Farm life

  In order to stay for another year, I had only one option which was to start applying for farm work near Cairns. After four days of ringing working hostels and emailing multiple farms and having no luck. I decided …

Sydney

Sydney was truly amazing, I found myself caught in the Bondi bubble like many other backpackers.

Beautiful Bondi Beach

I spent four months working in a bar named The Royal Oaks in Double Bay, it was great because the pay is so much better than the UK, I was earning $22-32 an hour, depending on the day. Back home I got £7 an hour and was happy with that!
However the cost of living is much higher, once I paid $5 for a pack of crisps in a convenience store, but that was before I discovered seven eleven, those one dollar coffees got me through many hangovers.

Other than working, I was partying, mostly with my room mate Pam, a Canadian girl who I had met on my first day in the hostel. Funnily enough, I had only spoken to her for about one hour at the hostel but exchanged numbers then we met up a few weeks after I had arrived, and we just clicked.

The house I stayed in was a big share house, so there were people from all over the world which is exactly why you come travelling, to meet people from all walks of life. Random but I’ve always wanted an asian friend and now I have two!
It was great living in an international house and seeing them improve their english week by week, there was one Italian guy who could speak better english than me.

He spent many days trying to teach me Japanese, unfortunately I can only remember ‘Arigato’ which means thank you.

After three months, my friend who I lived with in Ayia Napa, joined me for six weeks. At first, I was very apprehensive about her coming as I always travel alone as I didn’t know if she would settle in and I didn’t want to be faced with the task of babysitting. But in fact, she probably baby sat me, she was a legend when it came to cooking dinner, tidying the bedroom and also planning our trip up the East coast.

Georgia had some tan catching up to do!

Although I was making much more money than I do back at home, I didn’t save much as I was too busy spending it in the Cock n Bull, an Irish bar. I made many great memories there, and friends too. But one day which I will always remember was the Connor Mcgregor fight, the whole venue was packed, the atmosphere was buzzing and everyone went mental when he won.

 

Niamh and I – excuse the snapchat caption

I also spent christmas (or as the Aussies say ‘chrissy’) on Coogee beach which was the best day ever, I slept at my friend Niamh’s on the eve, and we cooked a traditional dinner before drinking over $200 worth of alcohol between four of us. The whole beach was pumping but then a lot of controversy was caused as majority of the rubbish (which was a lot) was left behind and locals cleaned it up. Of course, this was stupid of us backpackers as now there is a strict no drinking ban on Coogee, but I think everyone was just too drunk to have the courtesy to clean up (sorry!)

A friend I had made who was also from Birmingham.

Its crazy because i’m on the other side of the world, but have caught up with so many people who I haven’t had chance to see in the UK. It seems everyone comes to Australia and I don’t blame them because this country is amazing.

 

A little update

The feelings of fear soon disappeared when I got on the plane to Sydney, that’s probably because I was asleep for a majority of the flight.

Before take off, I was speaking to a man named Abdul, he gave me a few unrelated to Oz tips which were:

1. Don’t sleep around.
2. Find a nice guy but don’t bonk.
3. Get married after 4-5months.
4. Move out of your family home and live with him.
5. Have children.

And that was basically it. He then started showing me pictures of his children and their wives/husbands who were of a similar age to me.

It got weird, real quick. So I thanked Abdul for his ‘words of wisdom’ and avoided any more conversation for the rest of the journey.

When I arrived in Sydney, I was picked up by my cousin, Michael, who I had just discovered about 2 weeks prior to coming.

Fortunately, Michael actually knows a thing or two about Sydney and offered me useful tips (unlike Abdul). If it wasn’t for him, I’d be staying in the hostel which I had originally booked which was located in Kings Cross.

I haven’t visited that area yet as I’ve been warned not to but from what I hear, it is very much like Lozells in Birmingham (minus the black people, as there doesn’t seem to be many here).

So I am staying in Bondi, and I am glad. I get to wake up every morning to a beautiful view of the sea which just reminds me of how lucky I am to be here.

Breakfast with a view.

What I love most, is the fact there is always something to do during the day so by night, I am exhausted and in bed by 10pm. I’ve not had chance to properly party, probably for the best as the price of drink costs an arm and a leg, not to mention there’s rules. After midnight you can’t have shots or doubles!

Instead of partying, I have been very productive by waking up early and site seeing or simply just getting lost. I’ve even had chance to catch up with an old friend who I lived with during my first year abroad in 2014.

Sydney bridge and the Opera house were first on the to-do list.

Being cute in the 200 year old garden.

 

 

I’ll get a real job, just not yet.

It has never been on my agenda to start my career straight after uni as not only am I unsure on what exactly i’d like to do, but I also think I need to let my hair down for a bit (acting like it has ever been up!)

Like most graduates who aren’t ready to commit to the working life, i’m going to Australia and as I am currently at the airport in Abu Dhabi, I thought i’d write a blog to save myself the time of texting everyone about my journey so far.

It has been stressful as I’ve realised I am not so good at geography.

I nearly missed my first flight from Birmingham to Amsterdam because I somehow thought Dusseldorf was the area in Dam where I was going so I sat for 45 minutes waiting for the gate to open.

Then I heard the final calling for my KLM flight to Amsterdam which was on the other side of the airport, I have never sprinted so fast in my life.

When I got there, the gate was closed.

I was panting like a dog and thought my adventure was over before it had even started, but fortunately the lady who checked me in told me to be quick and run down.

After that scare, I said to myself its time to concentrate to avoid getting stranded.

But once again, I avoid looking at the flight number and assume Abu Dhabi is actually Dubai. So I spent an hour going back and forth trying to find my flight and get a boarding pass printed (which turned out, I had it in my bag the whole time)

Once I worked up a sweat, I thought it might be a better idea to just look at my E-ticket and I then found out my plane was boarding.

So far, so stressful.

Thank you puberty!

We all hate it when “mum” wacks out the old photos, not only because they’re diabolical but because half of them are exposing your modesty (well mine are, apparently I loved getting my kit off when I was younger!)

*I’ve quoted mum because it is something I never say, it’s MOM but that’s just a Birmingham thing.

I find some pictures cute, others funny but mostly all embarrassing. However when looking at pictures from mainly my teenager years, I am thankful.

So in a way, this blog is saying thank you to contact lenses, braces and puberty. 

Aw look at them chubby cheeks and Chinese eyes.

Very poor quality BUT check out that foot work, you can tell I was going to drop some foot in the raves, back in the ballet days.

My harry potter glasses, wow I loved them.
As you can see here, I’ve always been sassy.

Now, this one is the crem de la crem of embarrassing photos. I always wonder, did my dad think; ‘my daughter is going to be a heartbreaker’ when she grows up.

The last photo was when I was in year 6 like every other girl in the 21st century, I discovered makeup and boys when starting secondary school.

Fake tan, tacky clothing and accessories; all a 14 year old ever needed.

Calmed down with the tan but piped up with the hair extensions and eye brow pencil, what are those slugs on my face.

This was just before going to a drum and bass rave; referring back to my year 6 picture, did my Dad ever say “Our lucy, is going to love raving when she grows up”.

Things were looking up when my braces were taken off, apart from my taste in men (and music).

When I wore ratty extensions and fell in love with air max during my 1st year of university.

I now have ginger hair, give me 3 months and I’ll be wondering why I joined the carrot top crew.

You wouldn’t drive a car uninsured, so why travel without it?

If you are planning to work in Europe, you can apply for an EHIC card which allows you to receive medical treatment as though you were a resident of that country, so it is likely to be free.

Nobody told me about this EHIC card before Ibiza.

And of course, me being me, had a trip to the doctors.

Here’s why…

One morning around 7am, I decided it would be great to have a morning swim in the sea, but rather than walking in on the sand, instead I choose to hit the rocks.

The rocks that were covered in seaweed on Kanya beach, the rocks that didn’t allow you to see your feet, the rocks that had SEA URCHINS.

I had no idea what an EHIC was nor a sea urchin before this summer, but if you’re wondering it is one of these:

This image sends shivers down my spine.

The spikes pricked my foot about 5 times, so I was left with what looked like splinters on my toes and heal.

After many hours, of random people at the pool trying to pick the spikes out using tweezers and sewing needles, I gave in and went to the hospital, where I had to fork out €120 euros for twenty minutes of the doctors time (which was claimed back through the insurance but no expenses would have been necessary if I had one of those darn EHIC cards!).

If you are going out of Europe, then you’ll need travel insurance, it may seem like insurance is an extra “unnecessary” cost, but it seriously isn’t.

Over the past two years, I have used Atlas Direct and paid no more than £40-50 for three months comprehensive cover. There are many options, but I’m not going to bore you (or myself) with a blog about the different options of insurance.

Let me explain why It is vital to fork out and get a decent cover with zero excess.

During my time in Cyprus, like many workers, I was in and out of the doctors; if it wasn’t a sore throat, it was a swollen knee, if it wasn’t that, it was a cracked rib.

I didn’t even know it was possible to do such a thing until I had one too many headfuckers during the notorious happy hour at Pambos pool party.

*An hour of all you can drink for €10.

Throwing/pushing people in the pool is all fun and games until the ‘thrower’ underestimates the distance. So basically, my head went in and body smacked off the side.

Thankfully, the strange 40 year old, ginger man who often wore AQUA cropped tops was there to rescue me out of the water.

My hero

I spent the rest of that Tuesday afternoon in hospital, on a drip. And to shut me up, the nurse gave me a laptop, so naturally I took a selfie.

High of morphine which is medically used to relieve pain.

Moral of the story: I didn’t come home to a huge bill as they claimed all the expenses off the insurance.

Bandeau bikini tops make a great sling by the way.

Pino Verde

Warning: this is not a blog about a wine; Pino Verde is the name of the accomadation block where I lived for two months.

A basic apartment if it were in the UK, but luxury for a worker on west end wage, the six bed apartment had an oven, two balconies and a swimming pool.

Who needs a booze cruise when you’ve got a blow up boat and goggles.

Oh and a pink shower curtain, but in all honesty, it was the oven that won us over (not that we used it).

*On the day we moved in, plans were made to make a roast dinner, which never happened.

It wasn’t hard to find our new home for the summer, I saw a hand written ‘se alquilar‘ sign on a window which means to rent, I know this because Fern (the girl who I had organised to live with on the Facebook workers page) could speak fluent Spanish.

So i jotted down the number on my ticket sale travels and we viewed it the following day, at the time it was clean, spacious and had two separate bedrooms meaning Fern and I had a wardrobe and mirror to call our own.

*We had initially lived in a one bedroom apartment and were given the short straw; we had a camp bed and sofa in the living room/kitchen/dining area. This is why we were over the moon, with basics at Pino Verde.

We noticed there was no air con but didn’t consider how hot it would be; it didn’t take long for us to find out.

Our rent was 333 a month including a deposit of the same amount; Fern’s Spanish skills again, came in handy as she managed to negotiate how we paid the landlady off.

My first encounter with neighbours was during the early hours of the morning when I was walking into the building, where I heard ‘LUCY, LUCY!’ from the top floor apartment.

It was a face I couldn’t put a name too, until I got closer when returning his boxers that had been threw off the balcony. It was Matt from the Pukka Up team, from that moment on, I knew we were going to have a blast in our new block.

I definitely didn’t expect to be greeted by a boy covering his modesty with a transparent bag but anything goes in Ibiza.

After a short time, we all bonded like a little family, sharing cheap vodka by the pool and talking like we had known each other for years.

When working until 5am, there was always a chance to make up for the night missed in Pino Verde, as someone would always be having an after party where everyone would always get weird.

The most memorable one was a planned parted hosted by apartment 201, they told the whole block to invite who ever they want whilst at work, which of course I did.

At first, I thought, it’s going to be awful as unplanned nights are usually the best. But 201, had outdone themselves, they had a DJ, a saxophone player and an apartment heaving with people.

We were all like tinned sweaty sardines in the small apartment but I wouldn’t have had it any other way, by 8am the police had arrive to shut it down, and everyone scarpered into different apartments and on to the balconies.

I am surprised they didn’t get kicked out of Verde as I remember a lot of cheering when glasses were smashed and the apartment being as tidy as a tip the following day.

If there was air con, I would stay here again, then again you could buy a fan like others but me and Fern were unlucky and had plugs that didn’t work in our bedroom, so I often slept in the shade by the pool of a morning.

BBQ on a cliff, it was all fun and games until the sun went down and a random dog appeared, I felt like I was it was going to be the start of a horror movie.

Finding the right summer job is all trial and error.

You might choose to work in a country where you have already visited, but believe me, the only thing you’ll be doing that is the same as your holiday is soaking up the sun.

During my first summer abroad, I had every intention to work but found it very difficult to stick to a job as I didn’t want to miss out, on…well in Ayia Napa, there isn’t much to miss out on other than getting paralytic.

After a few PR trials, one even at a Scottish bar, I decided to give selling balloons filled with nitrous oxide a go, everyone on the strip loved laughing gas, so this should have been easy. But, no, I had to drink ‘the paralyser’ didn’t I, that drink sure did its job.

Following the craze has its risks, although it may be fun and games, know what you are doing. The nitrous oxide inside a ballon prevents your brain receiving oxygen (I didn’t know this at the time) which can be seriously harmful which is why they are now illegal.

So after sacking off paid shifts the following day or being asked not to return for every shot girl or PR trial, I decided ticket selling was the best (and only) option.

This meant, I could get up whenever I wanted, socialise with tourists and try and sell them a ticket to a beach party for 50 euros. It appeared, I wasn’t very good at this either, as I would always find myself at the shop buying a carton of 85cent wine and calling it a day.

A wine that would compliment your fish and chips by pouring it all over them.

So I gave up, and lived off the bank of Daddy, after all what are dads for?
Although I was attending weekly pool parties, chilling out on Nissi beach and going for a dip in the pool on a daily basis,  I was certainly not living the high life. I was a stereotypical worker (who had no job) living off 10-15 euros a day, which would sometimes be splashed out on a meal at a cheap restaurant, or noodles and a litre of paint stripper, I mean, vodka.

I have noticed that many first time workers, like myself, struggle to snap out of holiday mode, so it is probably best to pick a party resort which allows you to spend barely any money, or maybe just increase your overdraft.

Be sure to note, if you don’t work, you can’t stay for as long as planned, my time was cut short after 7 weeks.

My second summer abroad, I was left with no choice but to work if I wanted to stay in Ibiza, as it is anything but cheap.

My first job was great as it was ticket selling, unlike Napa, I was determined and believed in what I was selling, therefore I made a little bit of money a week but it wasn’t enough to keep me going. Therefore I thought I would juggle two, and made my way up San Antonio’s West end in search of a PR job.

EASY to find one, but hard to find one with suitable hours for myself and with people who I got on with.

After, working my way up and down the West end, completing trials with no intention of turning up the next day, I took a night off and decided to up my ticket selling game.

Until I saw the ‘staff wanted’ sign in Stereo’s window and thought i’ll give PR’ing one more shot.It was honestly the best decision of the summer.

Some of the stereo staff and I at work.

I had finally found a job with decent deals, making it easy to get the punters in, and a group of workers who were just right up my street.

My time in Ibiza had improved from that day on. It is so important to find a job where you can enjoy yourself, as the wages aren’t great so there is no point being unhappy.

Staff day out to the Surf House.

The after work parties didn’t finish until just before or after the 11am meeting, so I had to stick to one or the other, and as much as I loved free Together guestlist that came with selling tickets for Pukka Up. It was time to work six nights a week as a PR.

Ibiza is best known for being the party capital of the world, even the apartment parties are like no other, and the people you meet on a random rooftop terrance become more than just a familiar face.

P.S always save a considerable amount of money to pay for your first months rent and to buy food as it may take you longer than you anticipated to find the right job.

Another summer, another season.

There becomes a time, in ones life where the British weather becomes unbearable, or working 9-5 just isn’t satisfying anymore.

So what else is there to do other than book a one way flight to the party capital of the world; Ibiza.

It can be quite daunting for some to go alone but its for the best as going with friends will only prevent you from making the most out of your time; let me explain why..

Firstly, you may put a guard up as you already have your mate so there is no rush to meet new people or perhaps you get on great with Tom, Dick and Harry but your friend hates them, making things awkward.

Secondly, living with a friend from home may lead to arguments as you aren’t learning about them meaning their bad habits must be dealt with 24/7 whereas there is always the option of moving out when living with “strangers”.

And last but not least, you may end up having to babysit depending on who is the stronger character. But to me, if you need a friend to do something a little adventurous then Ibiza isn’t for you.

Ibiza differs to other party resorts as there is something for everyone, with a wide range of super-clubs and amazing events which cater for the needs of anyone who is up for a good time. It is a beautiful place where there is no time for ageism so you will find returning workers are not all in their twenties.

The main reason workers keep coming back for more is because of the money that can be made!

Unlike smaller places, a ‘good’ basic isn’t 25 to 30 euros a night or ticket selling for the super clubs isn’t difficult as most packages sell themselves.

And getting a job is easy, there is no rush to fly out at the start of May as Ibiza gets the better of many due to partying to much and not getting into the swing of a job but for most it is all trial and error. Although it can be frustrating working at different bars and quitting before payday, it is always best to leave straight away if you don’t automatically like the people and place you are working for.

As everyone knows, Ibiza isn’t cheap so saving for the rent and a deposit is a must; there is always a space going in an apartment due to the ‘flakers’* not having the motivation to work nor the funds to live.
*someone who couldn’t quite handle it.

Finding accommodation can be done before hand on the workers page online or once you’ve arrived, which would be ideal for someone who has never been to the party island before as it is one hectic place. And if you enjoy a bit of peace and quiet, but agree to live in Es Vedra on Facebook then the whole experience could be ruined or you may turn into a top sessioner* which is all part of the process.
*Someone who parties all the time, they can’t stop and they won’t stop.

Working abroad can teach you a lot about yourself and how to deal with different types of people which is a great skill to gain for every day life.
You won’t get on with everyone and for some it may be tough to find the right set of friends from the start. Nevertheless, workers in Ibiza are friendly and just want to have a good time by two stepping to their favourite DJs in the best clubs, followed by an after party; where everyone is welcome.

The ‘Shit’ Party, a yearly fancy dress events for workers only.

In my opinion, seasonal work is the best way to spend your summer, you meet a countless amount of people, attend many events where DJs from all over the world attend, see the odd celeb, don’t get me wrong some days are repetitive but who could ever get bored of the beach, bars and banter.

There is also plenty to do that doesn’t involve partying such as visit the famous Es Vedra rock, Ibiza town (Evissa) for a bit of shopping or just popping down to Cafe Mambos to watch the sunset.

Driving

I’ve finally passed my driving test and it only took me six months!

I started to learn how to drive when I was 19, considering you can have lessons from the age of 17 in the UK, this is quite late. But like anything, you must want to do it, in order to pass.

Firstly, I can’t stress enough how much easier it is to book your theory first and leave two weeks to revise, download the app and delete Instagram, Facebook, Twitter and whatever else distracts you on your phone. Then go on the app as much as you can a day, and eventually you’ll start to select the answer from reading the first few words!

Once you’ve passed your theory, then start your lessons, there is no point getting ready for your practical when there is a chance of failing your theory first time.

Avoid crash courses, I drove for 30 hours over two weeks which meant some days I drove for five hours with a 45 minute break.

Although it was a quicker way to learn how to drive; corners were cut. As time was limited, the instructor let me get away with little things meaning I had bad habits.

Even though I learnt all the manoeuvres perfectly over the two weeks, my driving in general wasn’t great therefore I failed my first test.

This was disheartening but persistence is key when learning how to drive, I actually failed again before passing. This was down to the cramming everything into a short period of time and an instructor with a negative attitude didn’t help.

It is so important you have a friendly instructor who you get on with, after failing again, I swapped to a female instructor who my friend had previously passed with.

Instantly, she noticed I had bad observational habits, I only used to look behind my right shoulder before setting off whereas you’re actually meant to do a five point check.

*Remember, you’re learning how to pass your test – you actually learn how to drive after you’ve passed.*

After around 10 lessons with my new instructor, I eventually passed. In total, I had about 55 lessons, as I wasted more time and money with my old instructor before realising his teaching techniques didn’t suit my needs.

If you can gain any advice from this, it would be persistence and patience are all you need, if you fail once, twice or four times always book a test as soon as you get home; never give up. As you’ll only forget and have to spend more money.

I also practised a few times, in my sisters car this increased my confidence as I knew I had no option of making rational decisions as I would have to pay the costs of damage as she obviously doesn’t have a break and clutch fitted.
Also before my test, I used calming spray, to be honest I think this physiologically worked and I also watched some hazard perception films to refresh my memory.

In the end, I got there and couldn’t believe my luck that I had passed after stalling twice on my test, but as long as it is not causing danger to anyone then you are fine.

Good luck!