La Tomatina - What the travel shows don´t tell you...

La Tomatina the ´World´s Biggest Food Fight´ is held in a small town near Valencia, Spain on the last Wednesday of August. This annual event attracts around 40,00 people, mainly Aussies, Spanish and a few middle aged British men wearing bras. Or at least that´s what it felt like in the pit.  

I arrived in Valencia on Monday to do a three day tour with a company called Fanatics, it included accommodation, transport to the event, a t-shirt and some crazy organised parties. The morning of La Tomatina everyone dragged themselves out of bed at 5am for a 6am bus to Buñol. Once you get to the town there are no toilets, we were told if you need a toilet when you get into the festival you just go in your pants as there is no way you will be able to get back out, nice. Four of us headed to the main section where we could view the greased pole with the ham in sight. 

The temperature was an easy 40 degrees as the morning sun started hit down on the half hammered crowd. By the time the cannon sounded at 11am to signal the start of the event people were pissing, shitting, spewing and fainting where they stood. Now when the tomato fight finally kicks off the first thing you notice before you see the large dump trucks is the smell. Its hideous. Apparently these wonderful tomatoes are not grown for human consumption, they are specifically for this festival. Truth be told it smells like they have been grown in a sewer.

As the huge trucks drive through the town the already squashed and sweaty crowd are rammed against the buildings in an attempt to not be hit by the trucks. People were crying, falling over and putting their arms out in an attempted to not get crushed. The the rank smelling tomatoes are dumped. The fight kicks off and if your not almost knocked out my one of these harder than usual tomatoes your eyes are probably burning out of your head. The charming Spanish lads start ripping girls clothes off while the middle aged half naked ones feel you up from behind.

At the end of it a cannon sounds to signal the event is over, the crowd is relieved and there a tears of joy at the thought of a drink and a shower. The exit out was perhaps the worst part. The people at the back started pushing and our section began to get crushed, not in a ¨ohh this is a little bit packed¨ way but a Ï am about to be crushed to death way¨. Some of the guys said it was worse than the running of the bulls. The general vibe was that it was hideous. 

Back at the Hostel I realise three showers in that there is still tomato in my hair and I am bruised all over. You also wake up the next day with what looks like the worst case of conjunctivitis in the history of humanity due to the acid that was pelted at your eyes. 

Getaway failed to mention any of the above.

The Diary of Anne Frank

Diary of Anne Frank you say? What could a blog about dating possibly have to do with a diary written by a young girl in the 1940's living through one of the worst events in human history? I will sum it up in two words- Secret Annexe.


The weather was warm, drinks were cold and the Rolling Stones were being pumped out of a high tech sound machine complete with linked video clips. I was getting drunker by the minute. So drunk in fact that I was playing pool and suggestively dancing to (I Can't Get No) Satisfaction with my best friend Sharon. We were at her old house mates den in Northcote; these guys were super nerds with gadgets, rockets and remote control helicopters not to mention stripper poles temporarily installed in the living room.


This house had seen a party or two in its day, there was even a small room under the stairs fondly referred to as the gimp closet (due to undisclosed events relating to previous party in 2007). It was getting late in the night and a guy had caught my eye. To be fair there were about 7 that had caught my eye but at this stage I was in no position to be fussy. A group of us went back to Sharon's house and kept on drinking, he was one them. Drinks and pizza continued for a few hours and I decided it was time to call it a night.


Now I have heard the old 'Im just going to slip into something more comfortable' line in films. The woman casually makes the remark, heads into the bathroom and reappears five minutes later in red lacy lingerie, long bouncy hair and immaculate make up. My version of slipping into something more comfortable usually means flannelette pajamas, no bra, no make up and my retainer. I left the after party 'to slip into something more comfortable' and 10 minutes later emerged very comfortable. I headed to the bedroom where i proceeded to snore and drool like some kind of wild mammal until around 6am at which point I woke completely panicked and disorientated.

I left the bedroom to find Sharon and try to place the night back together, the house was quiet and dark. I went to bathroom, took one look at myself (see below image) and headed back into the the room. 

Super nerd was there, I was confused woke him up and told him to get out. He said no, he wouldn't leave and just laid there. I was so mortified by the previous nights behaviour I wanted him gone. I told him I had been called out for work and he needed to leave, he wouldn't. Not wanting to be thought a liar I had to be gone when he got up and I knew I was in absolutely no position to drive. So I did what anyone else would do in this situation, I hid. I hid in Sharon's room, her and her husband Jeff didn't really seem to mind and I figured it would only be for a few hours or so.  

Hours went past, it was now early afternoon and I had never needed a bathroom so badly in my life. I couldn't cough, sneeze or even talk louder than a whisper. Finally a noise, Jeff headed out to investigate and super nerd had left. Relieved I ran into the bathroom and then spent the remainder of the afternoon placing the previous nights events back together like some kinda crazy version of Inspector Morse. 

Needless to say he contacted me for a date, despite the sobbing, the dancing, the hiding in the bedroom he wanted to see me again, nothing eventuated though and the search for love continues.  

Thirty Before Thirty... 

I never thought it would happen to me but in twenty two days i will be turning thirty. I have already started thinking about my next big list of things to do before i turn forty... geez!  My last list was extensive... Some of them i did, some of them i never got a chance to do but here is a list of the best and most memorable moments that i have had over the last thirty years...(In no particular order)

1. Sitting on a pier watching the sunset over Santa Monica Beach eating a big bag hot french fries covered in Ketchup. 

2. Dressing up as Kung Fu Panda at the 2011 Rutherglen Winery Walkabout. I wont lie to you it was hot, very hot but well worth it in the end.

3. Getting robbed in Barcelona Spain of everything that i owned...terrible at the time but still talked about five years on.

4. Graduating from University, the hard work payed off. 

5. Getting unbelievably drunk on straight Whiskey and playing cards with a 60 year old on a nine hour bus ride through South America.

6. Watching my little brother grow up into an amazing person who i couldn't be more proud of. 

7. Getting a tattoo of a moustache on my index finger. 

8. Starting up a program to assist women escaping family violence by providing short term accommodation to their pets. 

9. Falling in love. It didn't work out in the end but tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all...or so they say.  

10. Watching my mate Claire drink pint after pint at an 'all you drink in 15 minutes' special at a brewery in NZ. 

11. Spending every last cent i had on vet bills but ending up with a healthy and happy Siberian Husky.

12. New York, New York. Meeting Ricky Gervais, eating a huge slice of pizza in the street and taking hundreds of photographs of squirrels in Central Park.

13. Riding a bike down 'The Death Road' in Bolivia and simultaneously praying and crying into my helmet. 

 14. Freezing cold and jet boating in Queenstown NZ. 

15. Getting a true backpacking experience and having almost every inch of my body bitten by bed bugs.

16. Finding a best friend who can make me laugh more than anyone on earth. (Note not Guy Sebastian)

17. Arriving in Paris at 1am, getting a taxi to the hostel, turning a corner and seeing the Eiffel Tower for the first time and bursting into tears. 

18. Getting things pierced and thinking i was super cool.

19. Singing Journey's Don't Stop Believing at a Karaoke Bar in Little China Town.   

20. Walking the streets of LA until i finally found the Chevy Chase Star on Hollywood Boulevard. 

21. Catching my first fish...a trout at a trout farm. 

22. Playing with tiger cubs in Thailand. 

23. Wearing oversized undies with an offensive slogan to the Tom Jones concert. 

24. Playing with elephants in Chiang Mai.

25. Discovering Roller Derby and joining the Northside Rollers. 

 

26. Arm Wrestling Competitions in a remote village and winning. 

27. Travelling alone in Bolivia (Only for a couple of days but man it was scary).

28. Getting fit and passing my first martial arts grading. 

29. Being woken in the middle of the night by an unknown animal trying to get into my tent on the Inka Trail. 

30. Finally buying the car i had wanted for ten years. 

The Vampire Player... 

"Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring." - Marilyn Monroe 

I love Melbourne, I think it is the most wonderful place on earth. Amazing coffee, quirky lane ways, interesting people, oh and did i mention Ghosts?

A couple of years ago i went on a ghost tour at the Beechworth Mayday Hills Lunatic Asylum. It was excellent, the tour guide had a certain La Trobe University Arts degree feel about him and he kept us well entertained throughout the night. So i jumped at the chance to see what the Haunted Melbourne Ghost Tour had to offer.

After some Greek cuisine and a few brews myself and a group of girls from work headed off to the meeting point for the tour,The Haunted Bookshop. It was clear from the first few steps up those stairs that this was going to be an interesting night. The shop was a smaller version of what i would imagine the 'Magic Box' in Buffy the Vampire Slayer to look like, if it was real...(Yes i am a huge nerd). It was filled to the roof with books, statues, tarot cards and magic stuff for spells and what not.

Behind the counter stood a man dressed in black, much like the priest from 'The Exorcist', he had the whole get up; hat and all. He definitely had something about him. I handed over my $20 and eagerly grabbed my pass for the night.

It was quite clear early on that this guy was for real, he was definitely not a La Tobe University Arts graduate.  He was quirky, charismatic and funny, one hour in I had quiet the crush. The tour continued on winding its way through the streets and alleys for over two hours with our stud muffin of a guide  pointing out significant places in Melbourne's Ghostly history.

After the tour ended the larger group scurried off and my group lingered back as we had a few questions about ghost's. While we chatted our new friend revealed his views on life, he was definitely interesting and unique and i was tempted to ask him to head out for a drink with us. I didn't. Instead i got home, added him to facebook and googled the shit out him.

As it turns out he is a kind of celebrity in night of the living dead land. He apparently hosted a television program about ghosts; a channel 31 equivalent of Master Chef or so im lead to believe.

I also discovered the following...

1. He is a vampire. Apparently he was declared a vampire in the Victorian Magistrates Court and no i do not have any further detail.

2.  He is a satanist. He is a leader at the Melbourne Church of Satan. He has also written a book on the subject- The Anti-Christ Bible. Not to be mistaken with the 'The Good News Bible'.

3. Perhaps my favourite; he is the Australian Ambassador of the Transylvanian Society of Dracula. Quite the introduction at next years Christmas Party...

4. Finally and most terrifying of all- In his former life he worked as an Advertising Exec and also trained to be an Anglican Priest.

I was in quite the predicament. I had met a man who i believed to be single, gainfully employed, well educated, funny and attractive. But on the other hand there was the blood sucking, worshiping the devil and frequent trips to Romania to contend with. My mind started bouncing ahead as so many single, almost 30 year old females minds tend to do. There was the meeting of the friends, no issues there as they have met countless ex boyfriends. The sleeping arrangements, would i have to trade in my Harvey Norman White Lauravale queen size bed for a coffin? Not to mention those awkward Christmas Party introductions. And the sucking of my blood business, i wont lie to you im not even big on hickeys.

So after careful consideration i have decided to put this one on the back burner...just for now. Though i suspect i will be back, in the words of Stephen Dorf "Vampires to me have always been very sexy".

Tell me, Clarice- Have the lambs stopped screaming?

So there i was, alone in a house with a 35 year old, unemployed psychopath from Brighton wearing 'Bam Pow' boxershorts and night vision goggles. I can't say i wasn't warned, i had been... many... many times. 




The Silence of the Lambs is a psychological thriller released in 1991. It raked in a total of five Oscars including one for best picture. It focuses on Clarice Starling, a young and inexperienced FBI agent trying to hunt down 'Buffalo Bill' an escalating serial killer. In order to catch him she is forced to seek assistance from Dr. Hannibal Lecter, a manipulative cannibal serving a life sentence for various crimes including the unfortunate eating of a 'census takers' liver with fava beans and a nice chianti. 


As far as i am concerned Clarice Starling had it easy. There is no denying a sexual chemistry between Hannibal Lecter and Clarice that starts in this film and proceeds into the sequel. He assists her in her quest to find Buffalo Bill and at the same time gets to spend time with her while getting inside her head. But it is made clear from the start that he is insane, an insane canibal. There is a big glass wall, security guards and straight jackets. There are no smiles from across the room, wine and small talk followed by the exchange of a telephone number. She knows what he is.  


Having said that i was also warned, not in the glass security cell and straight jacket kind of way, but more in a "he is bad news" kind of way. Dianna's notorious house parties had long been a favourite place for me to meet men and this particular occasion was to be no different. I got there late as usual and it didn't take long for Lance to stroll over and introduce himself. He stared at me like i was the only person in the room. He told me how he sued his old work place for bullying, got a pay out and now pretty much does nothing with his time, my heart skipped a beat. 


It didn't take long for the modern day Facebook add, phone number exchange and late night text messages. We started chatting on the phone and before long he had my address and was on his way to pick me up for our first date. It was 40 minutes before the agreed arrival time and i was quickly applying my last coat of nail polish. While i was sitting there i began to hear what can only be described as a race car circling my street. Then the phone rang, it was him, he was early. 


I headed out the front door an saw a black Lexus with tinted windows parked directly across from my house. I walked over to the passenger side door and attempted to get in, to my surprise the door was locked. I couldn't see in the car due to the tint so i just stood there as awkward as arse wondering what was happening. Out the corner of my eye i saw a light flashing on and off in the centre of the road, moving closer and closer like some kind of travelling light house. It was Lance, he had parked about 800 metres away and he was signalling me with a torch. An interesting start but i am in no postion to be fussy, besides i was in a new dress and the night was young. 


We headed off to the movies, romantic chick flicks were off the menu as he carefully selected an action blockbuster about remote control robots. He proceeded to pull out his velcro wallet complete with a hologram dragon sticker and removed his pension card with a proud look on his face. Not to pay, but to rather romantically ensure that i got a discount. I had been swept off my feet and i wanted more.  


Fast forward a few weeks and i was pulling up outside the front of a huge Brighton mansion, metres from the beach, with gates reminiscent to a scene from The Castle. He met me at the gate and on the way in pointed to a beautiful statue of a naked woman and said 'thats my mother'. 


The house was a mess, not dirty but certainly messy. There were toys and gadgets, clothes and papers laid out in piles around the room.  One thing lead to another and before long there i was, alone in a house with a 35 year old, unemployed psychopath from Brighton wearing 'Bam Pow' boxershorts and night vision goggles. I can't say i wasn't warned, i had been... many... many times. It had officially become a scene from The Silence of the Lambs, i didn't know whether to run or to wait for Ashton Kutcher to arrive and tell me i had been punk'd. So i did nothing. 


The moral of the story is that with or without all of the warning signs, the flashing red lights and the sirens we still make the wrong decisions regardless of whether we are FBI agents or Social Workers. 

Hannibal: "I came halfway around the world to watch you run, Clarice.  Let me run, huh?  Tell me, Clarice, would you ever say to me, 'Stop, if you love me you'd stop?'"

Clarice: "Not in a thousand years."

Hannibal: "Not in a thousand years?  That's my girl."

The Older Man Appeal...

This morning i woke up in desperate need of a cold shower. I had spent what felt like hours dreaming about an older man, a much older man in fact. It was surprisingly the one and only Dick Van Dyke, all glorious 86 years of him. His wife also made a guest appearance (Make-up Artist Arlene Silver- aged 40), we were standing there arguing over him. He was rather unfortunately in a hospital bed, however i won the fight and proceeded to get in it with him.

Dick has been a recent topic of conversation amongst my friends, the recent marriage, the huge age difference, his appeal circa Mary Poppins and his current appeal, if any. I had no idea he was on the market, if i had perhaps i would have done something about it and risked being disowned by both my family and friends.


So whats the appeal? Recent studies by Oxford University found that women are looking for solid resources and social status, men prefer younger partners who are 'trim and beautiful' and women prefer older men, except for women in their 60's, who are for some reason after younger men. So it would seem Hugh Hefner, Rod Stewart and Woody Allen all have the right idea (statistically speaking).


Older men have a certain self assurance, the type that can only come with, well i guess being old. They know the importance of picking you up for a date, paying for the movie tickets and they know how to make a phone call, usually from their home phone (none of this text messaging business, to be fair they probably havent quiet grasped the concept). They understand how to charm, a skill that seems to be lost amongst generation Y.


Lets face it they know stuff, they were around when the classics were being made. They watched Caddyshack at the pictures and brought Journey on Vinyl. They have seen it all, traveled to the most exotic locations, paid off their homes and are now left with some rather attractive salt and pepper for their efforts.


The best bit...they will always be older. You will always be slightly more firmer and less wrinkled, you will be chewing steak with your own teeth while they look on with envy, you will not have to worry about them leaving you for someone younger and you will most likely be financially secure. With the assistance of Viagra men can continue to procreate well into later life. Take Paul McCartney who had a child at 61 or Charlie Chaplain who fathered a child at 73, sure its not ideal and the quality of the sperm is certainly deteriorating but they are not faced with the same limitations as women.


As for Dick i will keep my fingers crossed and hope that things fall apart for him and his new wife. And when they do, i will be waiting.

The one that got away...

From an early age i had a plan, by the time i was 27 i was going to be married, by 28 i was was going to be paying off my first home and by 30 i was going to be pregnant with my first of two children, a boy then a girl two years later. 

So how did i come to be 30, living with my parents, single and purchasing avocados and cat food on my credit card? Well to be honest i dont really know. I had lots of dates, month long stints here and there, when i was 19 i dated someone for close to five years and then at 25 another for two years. But since that ended it really has all been down hill. And by down hill i mean i have dated the works, from middle aged Jewish lawyers with OCD to grungy band members with too much facial hair and not enough deodorant.

Having said all that i do have a rather strick criteria around the men that i date, they must be tall a 6ft minimum, have brown hair and blue eyes (however i would be flexible enough to consider brown). They must be funny and outgoing and i wont lie to you i am partial to man that looks like he could kill a bear with his hands, why that is important i dont know, evolution i guess? 

It could be argued that i am too fussy but believe me when i tell you im not, like most people i just have a 'type'. These blogs will mainly focus on dates both past and present, with tales from travel and other encounters thrown in for good measure, there will be stories that will make you laugh and those that will make you cry (more than likely out of pity). Thats it in a nutshell...watch this space...