Tamworth, mini-bars, calamari and boarding houses

June 25 2011 

Sitting in the lobby of the Best Western in Tamworth with a family sized pot of black coffee and a muffin (free – I’m seeing a ‘free cake’ pattern here that is unnerving me).

I have become remarkably adept at living out of a suitcase in the last month. My ‘fuq-I-have-to-wake-up-as-check-out-is-like-NOW-shower-hairwash-makeup time’ is now at a record 27 minutes. Of course I now have three hours to waste in the lobby drinking free coffee and cake, listening to old country songs and fighting with my tantrum-prone AirPort (if anyone knows WHY my Macbook AirPort has been giving me the silent treatment for the last week, please let me know).

I love Tamworth so far, and not because of the free coffee (please see my previous posts about the price of espresso in Santorini to get a full understanding of my glee). I arrived here in an aeroplane the size of a coke bottle and I swear I was the only person on it who didn’t know everyone else. I forgot how awesome small country towns could be. And last night I watched a couple of movies (one of which had that guy from Dexter in it, I think it was called ‘Slayers’), ordered room service of Calamari and drank all the sparkling wine in the mini bar.

Anyway, CMAA school starts today. At 1pm. Hence why I’m killing three hours in a lobby. Am really excited. Can’t wait to learn the harmonica and have a couple of weeks solely devoted to song-writing and music. Fab. Fab. Fab. Seriously, I feel like I’m going on my dream holiday. Lying on the beach with alcoholic milkshakes is only good for two days max.

Ciao xxx

June 25 2pm.

So I’m in my room. It’s based in a boarding school and the girl who usually has this room has left a quote pasted on the wall that I think is worth repeating because I totally agree:

“I believe in those dreams. I think every woman should watch shooting stars while drinking champagne; then be put on horse back and galloped down a deserted beach in the moonlight – at least once in her life…Clothes make the woman feel sexy and confident and sophisticated and stylish…then a men feel like treating them like princesses…” Collette Dinnigan.

Espresso, Coke, deteriorating wardrobes, alcoholic milkshakes and random marriage proposals

Friday June 10

I’m writing this in my hotel room, travel guitar strewn across the bed beside me (have been working on a new song) and an open can of coke in my hand. Am highly irritated as I have just painted my nails in the sun (how ‘holiday’ am I?) and then promptly messed them up trying to open said can. My fab travel friend (fab not only because she somehow managed to turn bronze within an hour of landing but because she also brought my favourite eyeliner with her) is up on the roof terrace tanning.

Funny thing is, I don’t usually drink coke – like, fat coke. ‘Diet’ yes, ‘fat’ no. Can only put my new habit down to the fact that it would probably be cheaper to have a heroine addiction in Thira than an espresso addiction. No idea why it’s so expensive but it is, and I’ve already had three this morning with breakfast. Hence the coke.

We’ve found some fantastic little bars here, right on the cliff face – one of which is called Tropical bar and is the least pretentious of the lot with the best/most reasonably priced white wine and a very vocal/amusing American woman behind the bar. Ironically, despite their lack of pretence, I seriously think they have the best view.

We ventured out of Thira yesterday for the first time to Kamari and the other beach (always forget it’s name but it starts with a P and sounds a bit like the infamous Piraeus in Athens…). That was fab – seriously felt like a holiday destination with deck chairs, tourists and grass umbrellas everywhere. We caught a boat (so much more fun that I’d expect – kind of prefer small boats to ferries) and lay in the early evening sun drinking alcoholic milkshakes we’d created on a bespoke basis. Pistachio with white rum was brill, as was vanilla with Malibu.

Otherwise, having been here for a bit over a week I think I might be classed as a ‘local’ now. Doesn’t seem to matter where we go there’s someone waving or yelling ‘hello Pepa’ or ‘Aussie!’. It’s sweet really. Even had arguments with a few people now. Like when I arrived the beds in my hotel room where beyond bad – we’re talking springs poking out everywhere to the point where it was unfathomable that the thing still managed to look like a bed and not like a big spring ball. Anyway, one hissy fit and a few frustrated tears later a couple of new mattresses arrived. They are new and fantastic and I haven’t had a hissy fit since.

Hmmm, what else…went to a pilates class yesterday. In Greek. Which is fair enough really, since I’m in Greece. Anyway, was interesting but NOT FUN!

We’re heading out a little later and I have no idea what to wear – not because I’m a woman, but because I seriously have so little left in one piece.

I got my washing back from the laundry on the corner yesterday and they’d shrunk a couple more of my tops to the point of un-wear-ability. Seriously, I arrived here with a suitcase I couldn’t get up the stairs, a suitcase that illicited amused looks and comments about my gender from all who saw it as it was so overstuffed. And I am currently destined to leave ‘that hobo girl who wanders around in a towel and a hat’. Fab.

But it’s not all bad mattresses, deteriorating wardrobes and overpriced espresso. In fact, I suppose if I had to summarise Greece in three ways, so far it’d be: free cake, cocktails and random meaningless marriage proposals. So fun really.

Ciao xx

Dior, ashes, umbrella hats, boxed wine and bad moods.

1 June 2011

Am sitting by the pool in Paros. I’m tired and grumpy despite the beauty of the place. I’m not sure whether my mood is a result of the fact that I just paid five euros for a glass of wine that came out of a box or that I’m not allowed to flush loo roll here. Sorry, I know that makes me sound like the most hideous of spoilt tourists, but I don’t care. I don’t like it.

That said, we’re incredibly close to a little place called Noussa (not sure of the spelling) that’s charming and just a little bit stunning – last night, just after we arrived, we watched the sun set over the harbour and it was just so peaceful. I’ve been surprised by how empty this island is, but perhaps it’s the season. So yes, here I sit with my boxed wine in front of a beautiful bright blue pool and looking out onto a stunning view of the sea. I really have no right to be grumpy. But I’m a woman and an artist – surely being vaguely irrational and moody is my prerogative?

Mykonos was amazing. I really didn’t expect to like it as everyone kept referring to it as ‘the party island’ – I took this to mean ‘the island where people wander around continually sun burnt and drunk, in skirts that are way too short with bellies hanging out over them, screaming at the top of their lungs and vomiting in the streets’. But I was wrong. It was fantastic. Had the best pina coladas ever in Little Venice right on the water and even managed to find my Dior lipstick. Brilliant. And I could put loo paper in the loo there. Priceless.

So am working on my tan (actually I’m sitting in the shade, under a hat so big it has already been referred to as an ‘umbrella’ by a local well-meaning man), reading a bit, playing a lot of guitar and writing this blog. Next stop is Santorini and I’m there for two and a half weeks. I met someone in Mykonos who goes to Santorini every year to visit his partner’s ashes – they’re in a Cathedral set half in the mountain and half outside. He was a Pisces and his partner was an Aquarius and they lasted 35 years. There was something so touching about the way he spoke of it all. Anyway we’re supposed to be going to dinner on the 12th but I think I forgot his details in Mykonos (along with half my luggage).

I think it’s an eclipse tomorrow. There are three in a row coming. Hope it means brill things!!!

Ta-ta…

xxxx

The grumpy blogger

Cherries, France, ferries, game shows and astrology in a church.

29 May 2011

It’s 8:34am and I am sitting in a cloud of Greek cigarette smoke (not mine) on the Ferry from Piraeus to Mykonos. Finally. We missed the boat (literally) yesterday and had to stay the night in Piraeus. This is an experience I’d suggest avoiding if at all possible…was not brill, although a gin and tonic drip certainly softened the blow. If, however, you ever ARE stuck there, please do yourself a favour and steer clear of the little man from New York at Smartchoice travel. This place, despite the name, is not a ‘smart choice’ – they will charge you more than double for a rather mediocre room and act like they’ve just saved you from the Ebola virus whilst doing it.

But we’re on the boat now and it’s only 3 hrs till we get there. Already had 3 coffees. There is a group of local musicians sitting to my left (refer back to my comment about sitting in a cloud of smoke) amidst 7 instrument cases of different shapes and sizes. Aside from their chain-smoking, they’re quite charming and laugh a lot. They must have seen my travel guitar and decided we were the safest table to sit near…

My last couple of days in France (before my horrible day yesterday in Piraeus) were awesome. We went to this little place called Vezelay that had two amazing things:

1) a church which was simply beautiful. I got the sweetest little Mary Magdalene bracelet there – and it was also really interesting because the church itself had the signs of the zodiac carved into the walls. How weird is that? I’ve always been led to believe that astrology and religion where diametrically opposed, but this made me wonder if that was actually rubbish.

2) a brilliant photographer called J-C Gadreau. He’s seriously talented, I’m not sure if he’s on the net anywhere – I got the feeling that it wasn’t really that sort of town – but look him up if you can. He has all these shots of provincial French life and they are stunningly charming in an off-beat/60s/French sort of way.

Other than that I am now totally over cherries. If I never have another one in my life it’ll be too soon. If you’re ever on ‘who wants to be a millionaire’ and get a question about the regional fruit of Clamecy/Burgundy, call me. Or maybe don’t, since now you know the answer. But seriously, in the last week I’ve had fresh cherries, cherry booze, cherries soaked in booze for dessert, cherry pie, cherry salad, cherry steak, cherry toothpaste – okay now I’m exaggerating, but you get the drift. They’re bloody everywhere and in everything.

Speaking of TV game shows, I’ve been thinking (dangerous, I know): after managing to drive from central Paris to Clamecy at rush hour, sans map and with a sat-nav woman who had clearly been programmed by the devil; after surviving a night in Piraeus without flinging myself out the window; and after successfully changing the language on the TV at an airport hotel in Orly (Paris) to English via a remote control with only one battery, I’m pretty much ready to go on some sort of urban version of the reality show ‘Survivor’. Offers are welcome.

Am joking, sort of.

xxx

Jean Patou, champagne, travel guitars, a hat and a million baby ducks...

May 22, 2011

So here I sit in provincial France, typing away on my beloved mac. It’s truly stunning here. The house we are staying in is big and bohemian, with wooden shutters that open onto a beautiful canal – I’ve never seen so many baby ducks in my life!

And it is silent here except for the birds, the odd rogue fly that’s found its way indoors and the sound of one of my more enthusiastic companions yelling ‘bonjour’ at every barge that goes past. We had champagne at 11am and I’ve finally had the opportunity to wear a rather beautiful hat I bought a while back and never got the chance to sport – I’m totally in love with it. Want a million hats now!

The only true negative is that, being an old house (I’d guess about 300 years old but I’m no historian), the doorframes are extremely low. In truth I think I might have concussed myself in the middle of the night whilst trying to find a glass of water. And stupidly I didn’t bring mosquito repellent with me - luckily I found some in a drawer. However, I’d say from the packaging that it was a relic from sometime in the late 60s and just one squirt is so pungent it’s sure to kill every insect in the northern hemisphere. Not even Jean Patou can save me now.

But my travel guitar made it in one piece and I’ve figured out how to work the coffee machine. So the essentials have been covered…

xxx

Okay, so this has to be quick as SO MUCH IS HAPPENING!

RAGE (really big video hits show in Australia) have picked up my video for Just Five Minutes and have been playing it. Which is so cool! Thank you so much to everyone who helped put that together. And how amazing are we to have done it all in less than a day? You are all brilliant. Not joking.

Also, the LA International Film Festival have accepted it under the Music Video category - how fun is that?

AND I've been accepted into this Country Music Academy in Tamworth (Australia) which will be so much fun. It also means I'll be performing at the 'Hats Off' music festival in Tamworth on July 9. So come along if you're that side of Oz!

Also, someone sent me a link to something one of the emerging artist judges had said about my song "Pippa Drysdale - Just Five Minutes - This song was the most infectious catchy song on my list. It's a snappy radio friendly piece of power pop".

YAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAY. Funny thing is I haven't sent it to radio yet. Perhaps I will.

No time to wax philosophic at the moment as, what with being completely indie, my brain is one long 'to-do' list at the moment. But I have some time in France/Greece in June and am bound to come back all contemplative/wanna-be wise after that.

Hope you're all awesome!

xxxx

The Experiment, shows and instant coffee

So I lasted about two hours with no digital contact. Then I broke down and logged into my email. But, in an effort to justify my clear addiction/reliance upon facebook/twitter etc I had a thought: I wonder if the reason we all love this stuff so much (love knowing what everyone else is thinking/doing/feeling 24/7) is that it allows us to live many lives at once. We don't have to skip the country anymore and move to India for a year to paint because there will be someone on our facebook page who does it for us, reports back hourly and puts pics up to illustrate. Just a thought. Have too many of those though...

I have a show later this month at Bloomsbury Bowling Lanes, I've never been there before but it looks cool - I mean they have a Don Draper room. How can that NOT be awesome?

Am sitting here drinking instant coffee, wishing I could finally remember to order some pods from nespresso for my machine.