another letter

Day 28 — Someone that changed your life
Dear B,

I know who the majority of the blog readership is, through various means.  One thing in all my blog's existence that I have never been able to figure out is if you are a reader.  And for that reason, I am going to change the initial.  B, if you recognise that it's you, don't feel like you need to do anything.  Time has passed, things are different, and I've made too many mistakes.  I don't want this to be another.

As much as I am loath to admit it, you did actually change my life, both for the worse (in short term), and better (in long term).  And as much as I want to just forget it, you taught me some very important lessons.. probably ones I should have learnt a long time ago.


I don't want you to be all big headed about the fact you made a difference to my life.  I suppose that's partly the reason I don't want to put your real initial.  Not that an initial would give any indication anyway, but you never know.  I haven't seen you for quite a while, but thankyou for your surprises in the past - they were much appreciated.  I DO appreciate what you've done for me, really I do, I wish you well but I feel like things have changed too much for us to be like we were.


I am still grateful for what you did for me, but I'm too much of a scaredy-cat to say it to your face.  Some things are in the past, and stay there, for a reason...


But thankyou very much for the fun times we had, for the smiles and laughs we had, and for the things you taught me; you are incredibly intelligent and I don't want you to waste your talent.  If you're reading this and you know without doubt I mean you, please please please do not take the easy route and get a job where you just make a lot of money.  You have significant potential, I know it.  I've told you this before.  Whatever people say about you, I will still defend you to (most of) your critics.  I might not like you all that much sometimes, but you have good principles.


Thanks for being there when I needed you, and I guess, thanks for being there when I didn't realise I needed you.
with love,
Carol xo

"the most biologically intense place on Earth" : Corcovado National Park, Costa Rica

Let me preface these two emails by saying my boyfriend has just completed a trek around the Corcovado National Park in Costa Rica (quote in title from National Geographic) and I received the second email this morning.  If you are thinking of visiting the CNP, good luck!!!  I hope you enjoy reading this!


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I decided to spur into action and leave Uvita.


It happened like this. I borrowed a lonely planet from an annoying gap year child from Britain and set about deciding what the feck I am going to do with the rest of my time in Costa Rica. Now, I am personally of the opinion that you can't come to Costa Rica and not spend a good long time in the jungle, with machetes and snakes and pumas and the like; so I set about trying to find the best, most pristine, virgin rainforest to go adventure through. Turns out that is down in a national park called Corcovado, on the Osa peninsula, in the southwest of the country.


Seriously, check this out and see what you are missing.  National Geographic has called it "the most biologically intense place on Earth" .. It is widely considered the crown jewel in the extensive system of national parks and biological reserves spread across the country'. Fuck yeah. So, with a decision made, I sprung into action.


Before I continue my story: 'Corcovado is also one of the final strongholds of the Jaguar within Central America and several other felines are also present, including Ocelot, Margay, Jaguarundi, and Puma. All four Costa Rican monkey species can be seen within the park, including the endangered Central American Squirrel Monkey, White-faced Capuchin, Mantled Howler, and Geoffroy's Spider Monkey. Other mammals present include Two-toed and Three-toed Sloth, Northern Tamandua and Silky Anteater. Poison dart frogs and several species of snake (including the venomous Fer-de-Lance and Bushmaster) are also common within the park.' Mua ha ha.


Anyway. This place is seriously dangerous. People die here every year, so you basically need a guide. I went on google and wrote down the phone number of every company I could find that mentioned it, and set about rining them from the hostel in Uvita. Unfortunately, I had forgotten about the third-world-lack-of-organisation effect, which renders it impossible to organise anything remotely. In the end I only managed to get an answer on the phone from two companies, who wanted $1100 and $900 respectively for 5 days of hiking! Fuck that.


So I decided at about 1000 this morning to roll the dice and head down to the nearest town to Corcovado, which is a tiny place called Puerto Jimenez. I figured that I would be able to find a guide or something once I was here, if only by asking around in hostels and bars and such. However, the bus down here leaves at 1100, and so I had a mad hour running around packing my bags, saying goodbye to people, checking out, and the like.


I had a nice stroke of luck. I got off the bus at a place called Chacarita, to change for the bus down to Jimenez. Off the bus came another fellow, maybe in his fourties, the outdoor rugged type, and I struck up a conversation. He didn't speak a word of English, but I'm getting better at blabbing in Spanish and we managed to talk the whole way down here. Turns out he is a park ranger, been working there for decades. You should have met him, kitten; he was full of crazy stories of carrying people's corpses out of the park and people dying of snake bites and people getting stuck between two rivers in flood and all sorts of other adventurous mishaps. He knew exactly the guy to call, and when we got to Jimenez a tico guide called Felix met us there.


So I just spent the last two hours with Felix negotiating rates and making plans. He only charges $50/day, which is a bargain as near as I can work out (certainly compared to the nutcase prices suggested by the companies on the phone .. exploiting lazy Americans, I guess). He speaks good English, has been doing it for years, and appears to know his stuff. He showed me his three scars from where he has been bitten by snakes. I think he saw the gleam in my eyes as he spoke of the dangers, because he agreed to take me for a fairly serious expedition and not just dipping my toes in the water. We are going for five days, staying in the jungle the whole time, carrying our food and that, and hiking about 30km/day with full packs. We leave Sunday afternoon and get back next week. So if you don't get any emails from me, don't worry; I'll write a big long one with all my death-defying escapades upon my return :-)


So that is my news. At the moment I am in an internet cafe and there are two Americans who are under the impression that if you speak slowly and loudly, it automatically confers the ability to understand you upon whatever native you wish. The poor girl who works here visibly doesn't have a word of English, but that isn't stopping our intrepid customers.




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So I'm back! With some stories to tell :-)


Bags packed and hearts set on adventure, we left on the Sunday around noon. In the final group was myself, Felix (the guide), his girlfriend (to do the cooking), and a German couple. We were supposed to drive for about an hour to a lodge a few kilometres outside the park, do some hiking around there, and then set off early the next morning to bisect the park.


The adventure started a little earlier than planned when our jeep got stuck after half an hour's drive on a very steep slope. Try as he might, our driver couldn't get the car to grip on the pathetic excuse for a road. Well, fuck it, I was there to hike; it didn't bother me so much. So we ended up hiking the last ten kilometres on foot. In a way, I was glad, because the terrain we hiked through was quite open, and we got a better display of birds than is found in most aviaries: tucans, scarlet macaws, the Amazonian green parrot, and other birds whose names I have forgotten but whose plumage was spectacular.


We started the next morning at a place called La Tarde, intending to hike first to a ranger station inside the park called Los Patos, before continuing on to cross the whole park to the main ranger station at Sirena. Felix and I decided to take this way in because it is the most difficult way in, and I like a good hike. The terrain is extremely muddy, making every step an effort to lift your feet from the soft ground. Most of the trail was ankle-deep in mud, with significant portions of it knee-deep. At times the trail was blocked by logs larger than a man, requiring us to climb over them or cut through the jungle to find a way through. The topography is very hilly, with lots of climbing up and down; when combined with the mud, it makes for a very slippery and difficult trek.  It is also necessary to ford approximately thirty creeks; most of them are just ankle-deep, but some of them were up to the knee.  To make it worse, this all happens in the brutal tropical heat and humidity, and remember that this hike would be with full pack (including all the food we would need for the entire time). It was't incredibly long -- 26km -- but long enough, considering the above difficulties.


Before he agreed to take me, he looked me in the eyes and asked me if I was ready for it, and I said yes. He also asked the Germans, and they said yes, but in their case it was not true. I cannot readily apprehend the kind of confusion that would lead one to think that a monthly unburdened three-hour stroll through the cool temperate forests of Germany would prepare you for a hardcore expedition through the jungle. They weren't ready, physically or mentally. I have a healthy respect for things that can kill me, like poisonous snakes and frogs, but their fear bordered on terror. As soon as the trail became a little muddy, they started walking like grandmothers, taking every step as through with a zimmerframe; by the time we reached the first ranger station at Los Patos, 7km in, we were already an hour and a half behind. Felix was very patient, letting them take frequent breaks, and letting them set the pace, even though we only had so much daylight. A few kilometres after Los Patos, it was obvious that Dominik, the German male, was just not up to it. We were covered with a sheen of sweat, but it was flowing off of him like a river; his face was ashen gray, and his stride was weak. Felix asked him and I if we wanted to go on; I was dead set on continuing, and said I wanted to continue on, and if he wanted to quit he could walk back a few kilometres to Los Patos and stay there. He decided to stay (which turned out to be an awful mistake, as you will soon find out).


A few kilometres later -- 13km in, 14km to go, quite literally the middle of nowhere -- things came to a head. The two Germans broke down,saying that they couldn't go on any more, although quite what they proposed to do instead of walk I amn't quite sure. Felix was trying to assure them, and said that it didn't matter at what time we arrived at Sirena; we could arrive at sundown (6 pm), or 7, or 8, or whatever. That we were going to arrive after dark was obvious from our hindered pace, but this hadn't really sunk in with the Germans. At this point Dominik panicked. 


Dominik: "Excuse me, but I am not valking anyvere in ze dark! I am not going anyvere! Zere are snakes!" Oh dear, I thought. What is he going to do instead?  Stand still like a statue for the 11 hours of darkness?


Dominik: "Vell, can't a car come and pick us up?" At this point he was delusional. The trail was often knee-deep in mud, and regularly barricaded with logs. There is no vehicle ever built that could pass the trail, and this was entirely obvious to anyone with a brain.


At this point, Felix became furious; to be honest, I can't blame him, because they were rather infuriating. The reason we were to arrive after dark, he explained, was because of their snaillike manner of walking. He had budgeted plenty of time to do the hike in the daylight (we left at first light, anyway), but he couldn't help if they had said they were fit enough and they actually weren't.  If he wanted to avoid arriving after dark, then Felix would set the pace, and they would just have to keep up. Evidently their fear of snakes was more powerful than their previous collapse, and we set out.


The next four hours are best described as a forced march, more appropriate to boot camp than to a holiday. Felix and I set a hard pace, to make up for the time we had lost with their timewasting. We put our heads down and got on with it, forgetting all pretense at watching the wildlife. A jaguar could have walked past us, and we wouldn't have noticed. Even I found it very tough, and I am a regular walker. Dominik was sweating so much that he had drank eight or nine litres, and it still wasn't enough. I ended up giving him half of my water, which meant that I was rationing myself for this very difficult hike, and with two hours to go I had greedily sucked on the last plastic-tasting dregs from my camelbak. About four or five kilometres from Sirena, it finally became too much, and he physically collapsed. Felix and I talked about it (we were lucky that we could speak Spanish fairly well, while they understood none of it, so we could talk the truth without them hearing it) and we decided the only way out was to go on.


So we divided his kit between us, half and half. He had brought an incredible quantity of the most useless rubbish. Snorkel gear? You can't even swim in the park; there are crocodiles on the beaches. A pillow? Books? A laptop? Fuck sake. His pack weighed about 20kg, which surely didn't help his poor physical condition. Before adding his stuff, mine weighted about 10kg, and so by the time I took his rubbish I had doubled the weight I was carrying (this on top of giving away my water). We half-dragged, half-stumbled him the last few kilometres. By the time we got to Sirena he was delirious and semi-conscious, babbling and barely aware of what was going on around him. Those last few kilometres were an utter hell that seemed to last forever. I can't really describe it in words. There were few sights more welcome than the headtorches of Sirena when we arrived after dark. I was never happier to see a tap in my life, and filled my belly with water while Felix brought the German fool to the medic at the station.


So that was the hike from Los Patos. At this point, an aside is warranted. At Sirena, I found that quite a strict hierarchy of respect was in place among the people staying there, depending on how you had come there. Lowest in the pecking order were those who arrived by boat from Drake Bay. Typically just day-trippers who were spending an incredible amount of money to stay in an "eco-lodge", they were looked down on by ranger and hiker both as dilettantes and pretenders. Frankly, anyone who would come to a jungle wearing flip-flops deserves a bit of scorn. Medium in respect was the usual way most people came, by hiking from Carate via La Leona along the southern coast of the Osa peninsula; this was the way I left, and varies from fairly easy to brutal depending on the weather conditions prevalent. For the past few days the weather had been easy, and so it didn't garner any war stories or street cred.  The highest available way was the way we came, from Los Patos, and when people learned the way we had come they all wanted to hear how it was.  Many talked about doing it, but funnily enough most found an excuse not to, usually involving blisters or knees or what have you. There used to be a way that is harder than Los Patos, which was the hike from San Pedrillo; however, the rangers had closed it permanently because too many people were dying en route. This was the way down the west coast of the peninsula, where many rivers drain to the sea; to hike it, you have to time your hike very carefully so that the rivers are fordable with the tides, and stick religiously to the pace. Even if you did that, you still weren't guaranteed success, for a freak storm (common, and completely unpredictable, in the rainforest) could mean the rivers were uncrossable even at low tide. Many people found themselves between two unfordable rivers, and they were unprepared for staying out in the jungle overnight, for they were packing as light as possible. This led them to try crossing the rivers anyway, which ended up with them being swept out to sea. So you can't walk that way anymore.


We spent the next two days hiking around the ranger station at Sirena. When I say we, it was mostly myself and Felix, for the German was utterly bedridden with exhaustion. His partner sometimes came, and sometimes stayed to look after him. I was happy with that, because it meant we could hike as much as I liked, and we could see more with less people making noise and scaring away the animals. I had come through the hike from Los Patos relatively unscathed, and the hikes around Sirena were without pack, and so I enjoyed them greatly. Sirena has an incredible concentration of wildlife, apparently because it has an incredible concentration of fruit and nut trees that the wildlife like to eat. We saw an amazing variety of tropical wildlife, mostly because Felix had eyes like a hawk. Before I list what we saw, I will recount one event. We were sitting down in Sirena, eating; Felix had his back to the kitchen (which is raised off the ground). And yet somehow he spotted a fer-de-lance snake (deadly poisonous, with thousands of deaths a year) gulping down a lizard, in the dark space under the kitchen! I still don't know how he saw it. Anyway, I saw, in no particular order: all four species of monkey in the park (spider, squirrel, white-face, and howler; Felix greatly enjoyed making the noise the howler monkeys make, which pissed them off endlessly as they started screaming to defend their turf and harem), crocodiles, bullsharks, two chameleons (I have no idea how he spotted them while we were walking, for I had to look for several minutes to see them while he was pointing at them), iguanas, snakes (both deadly, the fer-de-lance and a boa constrictor), a sloth, an anteater, peccaries (a kind of tropical pig; the main food for pumas and jaguars), bush turkeys and chickens, agoutis (a kind of tropical rabbit), coatis (a kind of large tropical raccoon), and all different kinds of birds: tucans, scarlet macaws, lots of different (and spectacular) parrots, black haws, vultures, and many more whose names I can't remember ..


The monkeys are incredibly beautiful to watch. They are not afraid of much except pumas, and make little effort to hide themselves; once you know what to look for, they are fairly easy to spot. Such agility and grace, as they leap from branch to branch; they look so free.  The first time I saw them, I tried to get as close as possible to get the best view. What no one told me is that when monkeys feel threatened by you, one defence mechanism is that they start trying to piss on you to scare you off! Felix had deliberately not told me, as this is apparently part of your jungle initiation, and he was laughing so hard it hurt as I ran away from the streaming flow of monkey urine.  Fortunately it didn't hit me, and I stayed a healthy distance away from then on. He also decided that he liked me (I guess because I had toughed it out, when the others had collapsed) and decided that part of my initiation was to eat all sorts of random jungle stuff that he was to serve. The most interesting was when I ate about two hundred grams of termites. You have to crush them first, to make sure they are dead; otherwise they cause all sorts of trouble when you put them in your mouth. Once you do that, they are actually very tasty, with a vaguely minty flavour.


Sirena itself is primitive. The showers are cold, the mattresses are bare, and the mosquitos are ferocious; regardless, I loved every minute I spent there. One time, Felix, his girlfriend and myself were sitting down to enjoy dinner (for his girlfriend is a very good cook). She was idly playing, trying a piece of rope around his fingers. I said to them that, in English, "tying the knot" means getting married. He turned to her, looked her in the eyes, and said: "Will you marry me?". The poor girl doesn't speak English, and so hesitated for a second, before turning to me; I translated into Spanish for her. She smiled nervously, giggled a bit, and then said .. "Eh .. no.". Felix pushed her hand away and didn't say another word for about an hour, so I guess he was serious about it. Just me, him, and her. Definitely one of the more awkward moments of my life.


Anyway, the time came to leave. I had greatly enjoyed my time there, but we had run out of food, and that was that. By this stage the Germans had left via boat to Drake Bay, for they were in no state to walk anywhere.


While I was there, it was mostly dry, for which I was very grateful; however, the storm that had been building the whole time broke the night before I was to leave. I'm not joking when I say that no one in the station got a wink of sleep all night. The heat was incredible, and the drumming of the rain on the roof was louder than a Metallica concert: even shouting at the top of your lungs, you could hardly be heard. When the thunder came, it made the whole building vibrate for several seconds. It was intense.


It was still going strong when first light came and it was time for us to leave. I am not afraid of rain, and knew to accept whatever comes; but it made for a very difficult hike indeed. 


Firstly, to leave via La Leona you have to ford the Rio Claro, which is infested with crocodiles.  Normally it isn't too much of a problem, because you ford it at low tide. But because of the incredible volume of rain that had fallen overnight, the river was swollen and in flood, even at low tide.  However, we didn't have a choice, and so we hiked upstream to somewhere a bit more passive and waded in. It wasn't so bad, only up to my waist, and we didn't see any crocs along the way. 


Secondly, all the trails through the forest were rivulets, and we walked ankle-deep in water. That's not so bad; what is worse is that the walk involves long sections on the beach, which stretches for as far as the eye can see. With the sand being so wet, it sunk gloopily beneath my feet each time I stepped on it, and then sucked at my boot as I would lift my foot out again. It made for each step taking about three times as much energy as it normally would, utterly exhausting work. The fact that I could barely see with the amount of water dripping from my eyebrows didn't help morale, either. It was a long walk back to Carate, but we stuck with it and made it, tired but ecstatic. 


We had arranged for a lift from Carate back to Puerto Jimenez, a drive of about two and a half or three hours. But the taxi driver bailed on us, and so we were glumly considering the possibility of waiting four hours in the rain for what passes for public transport, which is a cattle truck. As luck would have it, there was a small jeep carrying a trailer full of rubbish back to Puerto Jimenez, and Felix knew the driver, so we hopped in the back. The smell didn't bother me, because we smelled very bad anyway. The drive back is crazy; even the cars have to ford rivers to pass through, and the road is so bad any European civil engineer would be ashamed to have his name associated with it.  Along the way we met one of Felix's friends, who was walking back, and hoping to meet someone he knew to give him a lift. He was hilarious, and we four spent the time in the back of the rubbish truck singing and dancing the whole way. I came back to Puerto Jimenez, paid Felix, got my stuff, and crashed.


Today I decided I wanted to see the Atlantic, so I rose at 0400 to get the bus to the other side of the country, to Cahuita. I spent fourteen hours in a bus today, and am even more tired than I was yesterday, but I wanted to write this email, and so stayed up to send it to you in time for the morning. As I left Osa I saw the Pacific, and when I saw the Atlantic for the first time in five months a song came to my mind:


(insert lyrics of song. Don't want to post it here, for privacy reasons)


Google will provide a translation, I'm sure. Not quite right -- the direction is off -- but it is close enough, for I will be home across the Atlantic before we know it!

under the weather

Day 5 — Your dreams
Dear subconscious,
You work in very very mysterious ways.  Mysterious as in, unsolvable.  I like dreaming.  I researched a little of the theory behind them a little a few weeks ago... women have better recall of dreams and few people dream wholly in black and white.  But... are you trying to tell me something?  Is there some sort of sign I should be picking up on, that you can't or don't or won't show me in real life?  I was quite into seeing signs in meaningless things a while back.. it was mostly weight related, (in a good way... or bad way, depending how you look at it).

Maybe it's a manifestation of subconscious stress.  I always have more vivid dreams when I am stressed about something.  I also wake up in the night and try to continue my dream as if it were real life, thus confusing P a lot on many occasions.  Or maybe it's overspill from the day's thoughts.  I also wake up from dreams feeling confused about what day it is or what time it is... strange.

Some dreams unsettle me, some make me sad, some make me feel a bit strange... maybe that's one of the things that makes us truly unique.  Our ability to dream and never experience someone else's.  I wish they were easily interpreted.  I don't think the mind does things for frivolity, so dreams must serve a purpose, more than some warped idea of entertainment.

If I could make them into a film, it would be so disjointed and yet amusing.  Though probably only to myself.  It is refreshing how there is still something that science cannot adequately explain.

Yours thoughtfully,
Carol xo

kiss me kiss me say that you miss me

Hello boys + girls,


A lot has been happening recently, but not had any time to write about it.  Thought I'd do this tonight, or early today.. as I like writing here; it helps me to compartmentalise various things that have happened in my life.  I seem to have finally reached the right balance of communication with my family (only taken 4 years).  When I first moved away from home, my parents used to call me quite often then we struck a deal of talking twice a week.  Then my mum figured out how to text, and send picture messages, and now I communicate a lot of information via text and pictures.  The main thing my parents are concerned about is knowing that I am alright which is why they want to hear from me often.  I think know I've said this a lot, but the more time I live out, and spend less time at home, the more I realise just how much being with my family means to me.  I get homesick less often, not that I did much to begin with.  Two or three weeks before I go home, I feel like I /need/ to go home, but it passes, and I think it's probably related to knowing I will be going home really soon.


I often think I wouldn't be that good at being domesticated, but I've only just come to the realisation that these past few months, I have become more domesticated.  As in... handwashing all my clothes, sweeping the floor twice a day, tidying up some part of my flat constantly... I quite like tidying as I find it therapeutic when the place is clean and shiny.  Whether it is linked to the boy being away I know not.. maybe I am just growing up (haha).


There are two books I have in my possession (sort of), one of which I read a few weeks ago.. it came exceedingly highly recommended and it was indeed really good.  Now I want to start another book, whose content links to that of the first book, but I can't figure out when to read it.  I'm not a travel-reader.. I can do puzzles but I can't read (much) whilst on public transport.  And I can't read for more than 20 minutes before bed, during my wind down time for the day.  I sense this second book is one that will require more than 20 minute bursts of reading...


Received a dress in the post, courtesy of T.. thankyou.  It fits lovely-ly.. er, wonderfully (I need to stop making up words).  I'm one of those people who wants to wear their new purchases very soon after they are bought.. but sometimes I keep some things back and wear them out of season.  Although, technically, most of the things I own are not in season.. I wear my summer wardrobe most of the time, with the addition of one or two extra layers in winter.  Maybe I will learn to dress appropriately for the weather one day.  I hate being cold, and I hate wearing layers in bed which is why I have more than one duvet on my bed.  Speaking of which, now I feel like it's getting cold again.. time to get my other duvet out.... I love sitting in bed with all my pillows and duvets.  I always sleep on the left side - always always - so I have a clock, some books and magazines on the right hand side.


These past few weeks I have been budgeting like crazy and eating at home lots and lots, so I could afford to pay for some skincare things that I needed... wanted needed.  So my diet hasn't been crazy or exotic or anything, just.. normal.  I also went with some friends to karaoke this eve - was very fun. =)  I guess at first you spend ages picking songs then no one wants to be the first to sing, so you need a great song that everyone knows so that they can sing along.  Sore throat didn't help - been feeling a bit ill this past week (all my own fault).


Had a surprise phone call from P during the week - verbal contact has, until now, been non-existent, so it was great to hear his stories firsthand until his phonecard money ran out. I also used a website a few months ago, which stores emails for a certain length of time and delivers it on a specified date.  Well, mine was delivered on my birthday;I forgot that I had sent it so it was a surprise to get it back, and a reply.  He signed off with "I made sure that when I moved to the UK that I thought of where I lived as home -- but now home is where you are".  ♥  (Yes yes, potentially very soppy, but shush.  I think it's sweet.  You wish you had a boy/girlfriend who thinks of you in this way.)




Hope you've all been well!
Carol
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Hawaii's Stairway to Heaven - insider knowledge

If you have googled some variation of some aspect of the Haiku Stairs, otherwise known as the Stairway to Heaven, and you have stumbled across this blog, please know that this is my personal blog.  This is an email from my boyfriend, who succeeded in climbing said Stairs in Oahu (Hawaii) on 26 July 2010.  This is exactly what he wrote... I hope this helps you if you're thinking of climbing the Stairs!! Good luck. Carol

My beautiful kitten, 

I just had the most awesome hike.

The Haiku Stairs is a huge set of metal stairs built going up a 900m-high peak on Oahu. The trail was originally built back in the 40's to install a radio station at the top of the island; a radio station so powerful that it could communicate with /underwater submarines in Tokyo Bay/! There are about 4000 stairs going along a ridge line, featuring some almost-vertical climbs; the fact that the top is usually shrouded in cloud earned the trail the name of the 'Stairway to Heaven'. Along the way up you are rewarded with the most spectacular views of the geography of Oahu.

Despite the trail being in very good condition (they spent a million dollars on fixing it up a few years ago), there are a few wealthy residents in the vicinity that have an intense irrational dislike of hikers and have a senator on their side. So while the trail itself is on public land, it has been closed off for many years now, because the city cannot arrange a public right-of-way to the trailhead past these selfish bastards and their bought-out senator.  Moreover, these same idiots have made an excellent campaign to wipe out all information on how to access the trailhead, even going so far as to make lawsuits against websites that advise unobtrusive and sensitive hikers to trespass across their land to get to the trailhead for this awesome hike.  Of course, the combination of unparalleled beauty and political controversy have made it an object of interest to hikers both native and foreign. There have been a few parties from the hostel that have attempted to find the trailhead, but none were successful.

I was interested in doing it, but it would be no fun on my own; the logistics of attempting an illegal hike wouldn't make it worth my while. But the night before last I got talking to these two Canadian girls, and we sort of convinced each other to give it a go, despite our unexpressed misgivings.  Having decided to hike it, I decided that I would do things properly, unlike the failures and losers in the other parties that went out. So I spent the day before at various libraries around town, consulting topographic maps, satellite photography, google earth, and googling furiously for any hints as to the easiest way to the trailhead from the various blog accounts on the net. It was fairly obvious from the satellite imagery that you have to access the trailhead from a dirt track running under the freeway; the question was how to access that dirt track from somewhere you could drive to.  Piecing together various clues on the net, I enumerated several choices; you can access it from the freeway itself, by jumping over the rail on the side and climbing down (but a taxi won't do that for you); you can cut through a high fence with barbed wire in the estate of the idiots who have made it illegal, but they apparently let vicious dogs to roam at night to deter innocent hikers, and that route also requires you to hack through a dense bamboo forest in the dark. That didn't sound particularly appealing. The third choice I gleaned from my researches was that the dirt track could be accessed by skulking through the grounds first of an evangelical church, and then through the grounds of the state mental hospital. Evaluating the options, I decided on the third, as the worst I expected to face was a bored human security guard, and if they kicked us out for trespassing I would revert to the second option. The worst outcome I had heard of was one hiker who got arrested for trespassing, spent a day in a jail cell with a Samoan murderer, and had had to pay a $250 fine; even he said it had been worth it.

So I went to sleep at 0015 and rose again at 0230 to set out. It was my good self and the two Canadian girls; three other people from the hostel had expressed much interest, but my instincts told me they were all talk and no trousers, and I was right. At 0345, we deployed at the street entrance of the church complex, and began our quest. Skulking along, sticking to the dark, unlit sections of the compound, we edged our way by compasswork to the fence we would have to climb. At one point we saw the white pickup truck of the security guard a few hundred metres in the distance, but we were well hidden in the darkness, and he passed without molesting us. When we got to the fence, our hearts lifted; it turned out to be pretty easy. It was only twice my height, and made of chain link that was easy to grip with a hiking boot. Before too long we had penetrated to the dirt track, with the minimum of fuss; I was glad I had spent those hours doing my homework.

Navigating along by my compass, with the H-3 freeway towering above our heads, we set out along the dirt track to find the trailhead. It was lightly grassed with occasional batches of shrubs, but it was fairly straightforward to work through. We found the trailhead at about 0430. Ignoring the 'Danger: trail is closed, trespassers will be prosecuted', we scaled a few more chain link fences, and there were the stairs. The stairs themselves are narrow, about 40cm across, and steep; most stairs lie at 45 degrees, and in parts they are vertical, so the trail there consists of ladders rather than stairs. There are 3922 stairs, and the hike itself is hard going, but we were amply rewarded for our exertions by the sight of the sun rising over the east coast of Oahu.  The best views were offered at an observation deck about three quarters of the way up, as above that the mountain thrust into the clouds, and the visibility plummeted in proprtion. Having taken our photos of the golden dawn, we pressed on, to the old radio base at the top. There, we talked with a few of the other early risers and asked them about the route they took and how they had come here; many were carrying machetes as long as my arm, and discussed the difficulty of hacking through the dense bamboo forest. We stayed for a while among the clouds, and watched the play of the vapour and the sun; it oscillated between dense fog and a light mist through which you could see the coast, at which point everyone breaks out their cameras again. After resting on the top, we started the descent, which offered even more spectacular views as we left the cloudbase and the sun shifted across the sky to illuminate the volcanic craters and ridges that comprise the island.

I should have mentioned before that the trailhead itself is watched by a private security guard from 0600 to 1800, and since we were descending long after his arrival, I was worried about if he would give us grief for our evident trespassing. I shouldn't have worried; his job was only to turn away hikers attempting to start the climb once he was there, and he had no instructions to interfere with those who were trying to leave. He was actually a very nice man, with a very easy job; he said that I was the second best-dressed hiker he had ever seen, with the first being a girl in a short-skirted dress. We egressed via a different route to the one we had come in, as the church services had started; fortunately, navigating through the woods near the church was much easier in the daytime, and so we had no problem hitting the road again. We had done it! We returned to a triumphant welcome at the hostel, just in time for breakfast, and to arouse envy in the people that had bailed on me.

Hope you are okay and tales of my travels cheer you up a little :-)

All my love

P

yy

SOOO jealous.
Carol xoxo 

same old thing happens every night

Had a lovely birthday celebration with some friends on Tuesday: thankyou to A for 'co-hosting' it for me and for buying me an awesome gift.  I hope you like what I got for you.  I have no idea where my phone is, but the presents you got me are perfect =)  We went to Cote in Covent Garden (there's a hat on the "o", which indicates a missing letter.  Just like fenetre is derived from fenestra), which was really good: the food was lovely, it wasn't expensive, they were really nice for booking a table, but then the manager proceeded to use my name every time he spoke to me.  There was great chat, particularly between D and I, for many reasons.  We always have good chat. ♥


Lots of people were dressed really smartly and/or summery.. probably initiated by R wearing a waistcoat, and I initiating a pink theme.  I fit into both categories by wearing a pink dress from F21 that P bought for me from Texas, which was sort of smart.  The photos I have seen thusfar make me look questionable... I wish I could tan better (I used to be able to) so now I look really white.  Not to sound vain or anything but I used to believe I was vaguely and slightly photogenic.  Now I just feel like I look less photogenic and by extension, less pretty.  People have potential to look good, and I don't use mine.  Maybe it's just because my weight/image issues have been on my mind a lot more recently.


I love a good excuse to get dressed up.  It always takes me ages to get ready in the morning, not because I'm not a morning person but because I can never decide what to wear and I am always doing stuff.  I don't sit down to eat breakfast: I am either sorting notes out or my clothes, or tidying up or cleaning or using lotion or cream etc etc.  I dislike 18 hour days.


I also got so many lovely gifts - really really wasn't expecting it.  There was a group card going around the table "subtly" which had the best card design ever.  It was of Chinese/Russian hybrid dolls (makes me want mixed race children!)  Everyone also sung "happy birthday": embarrassed me but thankyou anyway.  I got lots of lovely things.  To reiterate what A said, presents are sometimes really hit and miss.  There are always generic girl gifts, like jewellery, or bath/beauty stuff, or candles, or vouchers.  But I like it when people put effort in or ask me what I want.  Whilst I do feel selfish for asking for things, I do accept that some people want me to actively like what they got me.


I am a bit of a girly girl, but there isn't a generic "go to" gift if you were in doubt.  I don't know.. I should probably stop talking about it now.  It's continued from my feeling sad on Sunday, and realising there are still a lot of things I need to do in order to become a fraction of the person I want to be.


But there was photo taking and birthday merriment, and many laughs and gossiping (standard between D and I) and fun ideas and recognition that my hair dye actually worked.  I dyed it "black cherry" and like last time, it shows up under bright light, and probably like last time, will last significantly past the 28 washes and will remain in my hair until it gets chopped off.  I ♥ my friends lots and lots: I love birthdays.  Not for the present receiving thing, but because it makes the celebrator happy.  There haven't been all that many birthday celebrations this year, not that I can remember.  (If there have, please forgive my massive oversight).


All in all, it was a lovely birthday celebration with A, hers late, mine early.  It served as an amazing substitute for not seeing my family on my birthday.  I could tolerate Easter without my family (I have done so already) and at a push, I could go without seeing my family for Christmas, but birthdays are a big thing for my family (well, relatively).  I've been with my family for every single one of my 21 birthdays, and this is the first one without them.  Seeing my friends was great.


I also rang my parents, and they told me about the first part of my birthday gift.  It was a lovely surprise, particularly because I got lots of things from my first birthday party.  It's probably the best gift ever.  ♥


Carol
xxoo


PS.  I think we need to have a dinner party upon P's return.  Looks like there will be months and months worth of good stories!  I have not edited the emails, only the names and some soppy romantic stuff that I am not comfortable sharing with the world.


PPS. Do the numbers and names of rifles etc mean anything?  Is it a boy thing?  Let me know!!! xxoo

Hey kitten :-)

Yay, glad to hear you had a nice day. What were you laughing about? 

I started off not liking Hawaii but it is picking up. My first impressions were that the natural environment is very beautiful, but the built environment is absolutely awful; the Americans are utterly incapable of putting a structure together in a functional or beautiful way. It's just one big long mass of parking lots, high-rise apartment buildings, car dealerships, MacDonalds drive throughs, and malls. After I've been here a few days, though, I found that the people in the hostel are really nice (except when they vomit on my rucksack .. ) and am getting into the laid-back vibe of the place.  (Actually, most people here are total stoners, whose only apparent obligation in life is to wake up in the morning.) 

On the first day I got myself oriented and explored the place; Waikiki beach is spectacularly beautiful, and I can see why it is the most famous beach in the world. On the second day, I spent the whole day at Pearl Harbour, visiting the USS Arizona, the USS Bowfin, and the USS Missouri museums. (One is a wreck of a ship the Japs sunk in Pearl Harbour, one is a submarine that killed lots of Japs in the Pacific, and one is the battleship on which the treaty ending WW2 was signed.) On the third day I went shopping (the first time since I left London) since I needed a few things: my headtorch broke, one pair of light pants ripped badly, and my camelbak started leaking, so I bought replacements for all those things.  And today I went diving off the south coast; we dived the wreck of the Sea Tiger, which was absolutely awesome. We got to do some wreck penetration, which I really love, and we saw white-tip sharks, a giant green turtle (twice as big as the ones in Japan), a spotted ray, a pod of about 100 dolphins, loads of eels, ... it was great. So tomorrow I signed up to go diving again, this time on the wreck of the YO-257, a Navy refuelling vessel that was sunk a few years back. Hopefully it will be awesome.

As for the medium-term plans, on Sunday I am going shooting with an NRA instructor; there are loads of rifle ranges on the main strip that cater for tourists, where you can fire off a few rounds from some famous rifles, but they are phenomenally expensive and the ranges are tiny. Instead, I got in touch with the local rifle clubs and they hooked me up with this fellow.  Apparently all I have to pay for is the ammunition I use, which is sweet. He said he has a Winchester M1914 and an M1 Garand, so I'm really looking forward to it. After that I might go parasailing or hiking around .. we'll see.  I'll spend maybe 10 days here in total before moving on to another island.

I hope my beautiful kitten is keeping well and not missing me too much.  And yes, you can thieve my heat when I get back :-)

All my love, for years and years of laughter and joy

P

----------------- 

My dearest kitten,

Yesterday I went shooting! I was picked up by an NRA instructor with all of his rifles and we drove out to the range. I had never been somewhere where high-calibre rifles were being fired continuously .. but I soon got used to it. We spent 5 hours there and the time just flew; I barely noticed it ticking away. We started off with the .22 semi-automatic, and I fired a few hundred rounds in that. He was amazed that after about an hour with the rifle I was putting every round in the black at 50 yards. Then we moved on, first to a 7.62x39 SKS, then to a .30-06 M1 Garand, and finally a .30-06 Winchester M1917. I currently have a bruise the size of my fist on my right shoulder .. the .30-06 rifles are fecking cannons. I was really pleased with my shooting: after a few rounds with the Garand, I was hitting a 2ft x 2ft steel plate at 200 yards 8 times out of 8 with iron sights (not a scope)! He even started asking me if I was lying about my previous experience, hehe.  I really enjoy shooting; I think I will try to keep it up properly when I get back home.

I will be home soon, because I know that kittens cannot fend for themselves for very long. I love you more than I can say .. I can't wait to hold you again. I am so grateful that you bring such joy to my life :-)

All my love, for years and years

P

i am insanely jealous....

....of this lifestyle.

 

(as always, names changed to initials)

Sorry for not writing more lately! It has been very hard to find any privacy or extended internet access to write you any email. G has just a USB dongle (we know how well they work) and is limited to the princely sum of 200Mb/month! So I basically had no net access and so had to suffice with loving you nonverbally.

I have had a wonderful time here; G is probably the closest member of my family in personality/temperament/interests to me. She nearly did a PhD in genetics (the funding ran out halfway through) and is a dedicated hiker/outdoorsy person. So we have had a lot to get on about and a lot to talk about. I haven't seen her in over four years, but we hit it off with no problems whatsoever. It's been fun!

I can't honestly remember the last time I wrote to you properly -- I told you about the mycologists on Queenstown Hill? And the crazy German girl at Milford Sound who started screaming? If not I will tell you next time. Anyway, I took the bus from Queenstown to Franz Josef to go hiking the glacier. I arrived in around 1500 and immediately went hiking around some of the walks that give you a nice view of it with a French girl I had met on the bus. Franz Josef is a real one-horse, blink-and-you-miss-it kind of town. Anyway, I got up ridiculously early to watch the Spain-Germany game and then went for the guided hike on, in, and around the glacier itself. It was really stunningly beautiful; hiking on the ice is really good fun, and squeezing your way through wormholes, tunnels, and crevasses was an excellent use of my time.  It was fairly easy going: the hiking was very easy, as a lot of the time you were stood around enjoying the scenery while the guide was there with a pick carving out the steps for you to take. But you wouldn't believe it if you heard the other people on the hike in the hostel afterwards! You'd swear they were the invalid ward from the Somme or something, the way they were carrying on about their legs and their knees and their blisters. A big bunch of crybabies and wussies: we only walked about 15km.

A funny thing happened in Franz Josef; I met a guy I knew back in school! I hadn't seen him in about 8 years, and there he was, not only on the other side of the globe, not only in the same one-horse town, but the same fecking hostel on the same night. He only lives about 5 minutes away in Knocnacarra. Madness. I can't wait to get away from all of these fecking Irish people about the place. Half of the fecking Republic is over here.

Then I took the bus from Franz Josef to Nelson, which took about 12 hours. It should only have taken about 8 but the buses in New Zealand stop about every 10 fecking minutes.  Typical of the Kiwi attitude. Along the way, we stopped at a national park for an hour because there were some nice rocks to sele there! Fecking hell. Actually, if you had to stop somewhere, there was a good spot; the odd pancake-shaped rock formations were extremely beautiful. There was a path around the coast with big warning signs saying not to cross it. Myself and another Irish lad observed a very inviting track going from the other side of the barrier down and around, and I mentioned I was tempted to the bus driver; so he agreed to stand watch where we would jump the barrier, so that we could go down and explore without the Department of Conservation people coming to give out to us.  I felt like I was sneaking around stealing apples; it was great fun, and very odd to have a fifty-year old random bus driver keeping watch for you. We both went down the path and made our way through this incredible cave and came out the other side with a glorious view of an amazing rock formation; I could have spent an hour just watching the turbulence of the tide.

Anyway, I arrived into Nelson to find: no cousin. Turned out she had gone to the other place where the other bus company drops people off. I was busy trying to figure out the public phone booths (they don't take coins, what the fuck) when she drove up! So we drove about 45 minutes out to her farm. She had spent a few years travelling herself, and knew just what would make me happy: I came to her house to find myself setup with a room to myself, a whole double bed to myself, and even a /real towel/! Pure unadulterated luxury.

So we spent the past two days hiking around the various national parks and such (all spectacular, New Zealand is utterly blessed) and eating the extremely delicious food of her husband, who is a professional chef. One night their neighbours came over and we all had a few drinks, which was rather nice. The neighbour is a bit crazy and brought over his AK47 last night and offered to let me fire it a bit, so I happily took the chance to gain some valuable life experience by blowing a plastic target to smithereens. (It's a powerful gun!) I had actually planned to do a bit of shooting in Nelson myself; this morning I went out to a rifle range a bit out of town which offers firearms training. It was very educational; the guy was a New Zealand champion marksman, and an excellent teacher. I fired off a few hundred .22 rounds, first with the sandbag and then as I got better standing up, before moving on to the .223 calibre rifle, which is a very powerful gun and very loud. He actually had me shooting at targets 400m away up a hill, and I was very pleased that by the end of it I could hit a fairly small target 3 times out of 4. Then we moved on to using the shotgun on clay pigeons; that is very good fun, and by the end of it I was hitting most of the targets, which is very nice. And now I am in the library using their free internet to talk to you!

Hope you are keeping well; remember always that I love you to bits.

All my love

P

Pathology is /no/ comparison to this.

:(

baby don't you realise how beautiful you really are

Several things.

Firstly, another dream!

It was after school, on a sort of clody day, and I was walking with T and S to the school buses; T and I used to get buses from the other side of the road, and for some reason I was walking her to hers... It was 4pm and the buses were leaving at 4.10pm so I left them,  and turned back and left and went to mine.  I was stuck behind S and F, whom I didn't really like that much so overtook them and got to my bus.  I was part of the "back of the bus" crowd, but there was hardly anyone there.. just P and L, and L's "evil twin".  They were all sat apart on the backseat (5 seats) and very silent.. so I sat in the middle and asked them what was up.  L's evil twin was doing odd and mean things to P and L, and he took some sort of gas and oil and sprayed it on and between my legs, and he was making P cry.

Then he went to L's younger sister, who was sat near the front of the bus, and told her that L disowned her and this made her cry :(  Then L's evil twin seemed to have spent his rage and sort of disappeared, and then L said to me, "thankyou", and I said that I hadn't done anything.. like, literally nothing, but then he went, "if you hadn't had showed up, this wouldn't have happened", by which I think he meant that he was glad his evil twin was gone, and then I was like, "I know".

Then it was the next school day and I was sat in a classroom with S, T and F, the former two were the ones I walked to the school buses with.  We were talking about books, and I had one in my bag that I needed to return to S, and I told her I still had "the claw" book ("the claw" said the Toy Story way) which I would return to her at a later date.

Then it was time for assembly, but my class was late, so we went to get the prayer books and opened the back doors for the stage where we were meant to be sat, and where we would sneak to, but it was the prayer time, and I hoped they didn't hear us making any sound opening and closing the doors.  We rushed back to our classroom, trying to think of some excuse for us missing assembly.  Then our form teacher, Mr L, was flirting with S :/

Very weird.  I rarely dream of my friends, old or new.. I feel like my dreams tend to be very very odd, and so any semblance of normalness worries me.. so that's probably why you get random "how are you" messages if I don't see you much.

----

Secondly, a letter

Day 3: to your parents & Day 4: to my sibling (or closest relative)

Dear mummy and daddy and A,

Every child who has a good relationship with their parents believes they are the best parents in the world, although this is very subjective.  I am no different, yet I would like to say that you are the best parents for me.  There is nothing I could write that would express my gratitude and love and there's probably nothing I can do to show it, except be the best person I can be :)  And A, we've had many ups and downs and I'd like to think that with our parents' love and guidance, we have become so much closer these past couple of years, closer than I thought we would be as siblings: I like it.  With love, 女

----

I hate shopping.  When I purposely go out to look for clothes, I can never find anything I like.  How I have so many is beyond me, I have no idea how I come by so much when I can't find anything or the things don't fit!  Sometimes I hate my body shape, because a lot of the time I can't find things that fit properly.  Maybe I should shop like a man, and research things before I go to buy.

I went to see the new Twilight film; it was very good and an accurate representation of the book, but it was really cheesy in some bits, and it was annoying when little teenage girls were cheering when Jacob came on :/  I liked it though - the fighting was good and I wasn't as annoyed by Kristen Stewart's poor acting skills as in the first two films.  Before going out, I spoke to P via facebook chat - a rarity in itself - and he thought I was so eager to see it because I had no angst in my life and no drama, and that the film would be my fill of emotional angst.

Been watching Wimbledon and reading lots.. and having long naps.  Been reading Xiaxue's blog as well, and started watching Sex and the City to see what the fuss was about.  Pathology starts tomorrow - there are, like, 7 or 8 lectures :(  I hope it's not too hot!  A bit excited to see my friends again :)  Although, I am not so sure my note taking ability is as good as it used to be.  I mean, I write using a pen quite a bit but I don't write quickly or anything.

gahhhhh

I had dinner an hour ago but now I feel sick.  I feel like if I go to lie down again, I'll feel rubbish tomorrow.  So I'm looking for stuff to buy for my birthday.  Thought I'd do another letter thing.


Day 2: your crush
To be honest, I don't think I have had a "crush" for ages... Okay okay.
Dear J, I dislike how we don't talk anymore, but that's not my fault.  I remember when we first met, like, 5 years ago, you told your friends you fancied me ( :s ) and then they decided to tell me.  Then, like, a year later we started talking again and you were hinting pretty strongly about your feelings towards me, and I guess I let myself get a bit caught up in the childish romance of it.  Yes I had a crush on you... Because your background was/is similar to mine, I think I identified with you a lot back then; we were similar, we used to talk a lot and flirt and have fun and it was all harmless.  We had two dates, it sort of fizzled out into friendship, we had a frank discussion, and then I made a wise mistake of being incredibly indecisive. (not in a bad way)
Looking back, I am 100% sure we would have been unsuited as at that time, I thought I wanted something casual, and you thought you wanted something very serious.  Turns out we each wanted the opposite of what we thought.  I went to visit you, and I still have those stars you made for me in my heart shaped box, which is filled with little mementos.  But you flaked out a lot more than I did.  I'd like to say I miss you... but I don't.


Cordially,
Carol




PS.  Please understand that I'm writing these letters as a form of catharsis, to get closure from certain things in the past, and to let them lie.  I am NOT a mean spirited person, I am NOT saying mean whatever anyone says.  I'm treating these as a psychological experiment type thing.

letter writing

Saw this letter thing on someone's tumblr, which looks to me sort of like a twitter blog.  You have to write a letter to someone every day, but I probably won't do it /every/ day.
In such a flaky mood today.  I dislike hot flushes very much.. I dislike all the stuff that comes with being of the sex that reproduces... and the weather isn't helping the flushes :(


So.. here we go.  Letter numero uno!


Day 1: to your best friend
I have several best friends.. who are each my best friend in different ways, and for different reasons...  I don't think I need to tell them how much they mean to me.  I love them each in their own way, and I love that they are all very different to each other.  It reflects different parts of my personality.  If I bothered using speed dial, each of these people would be on it.  There are people in life who you regard as acquaintances.. people you say hello to but the conversation doesn't go much past that.  There are friends with whom you have fun, but are not in your life all the time.  And then there are best friends, who know lots about you, and don't judge you (much.  Hey, the human nature is secretly judgemental).  So I would like to tell each of my best friends: thank you.. for being there for me when I need you... and I suppose I have needed each of you in my own way in the time I have known you.


F, you've been my friend since I was 9, I love you dearly and surely and you are my partner in crime, il y a photographic evidence! I held Matt Dillon's hand and I believe you got Jude Law to wave at us... who said we didn't live a glamorous life?!??!
S, thanks for being the voice of reason time and time again when I have been a bit crazy over various things, you'll never know what it means to me!  I am so proud of your achievements; there is no saner person than you.
A, you are lovely and I am so glad I know you - this seems like a generic thing to say, but believe me when I say it isn't.
I, if ever there was a "carol" imprint in a person, it would be you!
M, everyone deserves their rights to have secrets, thank you for keeping mine and for being there at a time when I didn't really have anyone... I hope I have done the same for you
A, sometimes I despair of you, but I don't think I would if I didn't consider you one of my best friends!  For your faults, you have ten fold great qualities.
R, as the one from this list most likely to read this, I shall just say: one of the most intelligent people I know... the highest compliment that I could give to you.
P, no explanation necessary.


love,
your friend Carol
xo

she'll make you order fresh champagne

Had a thought yesterday that I am actually very ditzy.


On Sunday, M, P and I were in Caffe Nero, where we went to wrap R's birthday gifts, and I was asking him about praying and Patrick was like, where's Mecca? And I said, how does the compass know how to point to Mecca? (I mean, I do actually know that compasses point north, and you have to do some calculations in order to work out where Mecca is, from where you are in the world).


Went to Sainsbury's yesterday to buy pastries, and put them in the fridge. I only brought my pure over, usually I bring my bag. So it made sense to carry my purse back home in the Sainsbury's bag. Except my purse went in the fridge too. And I only realised like three hours later, upon opening the fridge.


Oh dear.


--


Dear sun,


Hello, it's so good to see you! Finally! It's great to see that you are indeed still shining, that's awesome, I don't need to tote my umbrella around so much anymore. Bonus, my back won't ache so much. But could you refrain from shining on days where you KNOW I have long work hours. It's just way too tempting :( You are very lovely, keep on shining. Our world depends on it. I mean that literally.


love,
someone who likes the sun


--


Dear Boys Like Girls,


Please can you come back to England and do a tour? I sooo wanted to go last time you were here, but I was doing an on-call, and in retrospect, wouldn't have missed it for anything - it was so fun, but I adore your music. My blog is named after one of your song lyrics :) It's a song that never fails to cheer me up :D So.. you know, October/November would be cool! Oh, good luck with the new album!


love,
a dedicated fan


PS. Please don't sue me because I've used your lyrics around my blog.


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Dear X,


I had a very philo moment today, and it made me concerned that I still can't work out what our friendship means to me. I can't explain why you make me feel very.. confused, and you don't realise it.
Things happen, it's part of the learning experience. But I thought we were good friends, and I'm sorry I haven't kept in touch better :( We're both busy people, but it's nice to chat once in a while. But not of the "hey what are you up to? not much, you?" small talk variety; let's get past that. I don't even think you read this thing anyway, so the chances are I'll just keep feeling like this every so often and you'll never know. And I can't think of the words to say to you in person to tell you about this. I'm so lame :(


from your friend Carol


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Dear Whole Foods Market,


Your store on High Street Ken is awesome, I love it, you have lots of free cheese everytime I go there. Everything looks so yummy and the baskets are cool. But why is your stuff so expensive? :( Organic does not mean expensive. American does not mean expensive. In light of the current "credit crunch", please would you reduce your prices, so that my boyfriend can buy us food for a nice dinner in, and not have a panic attack when he sees the price of the bill.


from,
a concerned shopper


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Dear sugar,


Increase your prices by epic amounts. It's one of the few ways that we are going to stop this obesity epidemic. Keep it in the countries that need it the most. The Western world is way too fat, and it's immoral and disgusting. Sugar is nice yes, but it isn't necessary. Obesity is a disease and it's going to be a huge problem very soon, even more so than it is now. How are we going to treat a nation of fat people who are too lazy to go out and walk, who are too lazy to walk to the end of the aisle in the supermarket to look for the healthier options? It makes me feel ill thinking about it,


love, a potential doctor in the making