Most of the time, I’m pretty happy to be a woman. I get an entire fashion industry dedicated to clothing me in whatever the hell I feel like wearing, gossip is allowed on a scale that shouldn’t be legal and I can get away with a lot of things simply by showing off a bit of cleavage.

The down side to being a woman is needing to wear Spanx (aka The Wetsuit) when I want to look ‘amazing in that dress’, I have the same amount of hair as a man but unlike my counterpart, actually have to maintain it which is a serious pain in the ass (unless it’s Winter…ladies, you know what I’m talking about!?) (and when I say a pain in the ass, it really is if you’re getting a wax down there!) and once a month for about a week I feel like absolute shit because my body decides that since I’m not having a baby I deserve to have raging hormones and have the need to stick something cotton inside my fanny. Yeah, that week is ‘fun’ for everyone!

But I digress…

What I’m actually saying is this; on the whole, it’s pretty damn amazing to be a woman and since we take up about half the planet, most men would agree that it’s amazing to have us in their lives (stop rolling your eyes gentleman…you need us to have sex! And you know we’re always a better option than your hand!).

So, with so many of us out there you’d expect a pretty good level of ‘sisterhood’ right? That whole ‘let’s give each other makeovers, have a pillow fight and talk all night’. This sounds like an intro to a porn movie but you get my drift!

We, as woman, should be helping each other achieve our individual and collective greatness. We should be celebrating our successes, supporting our failures and cheering each other on so I was appalled when I read an article (which you can read here) where a female sport blogger wrote that she thought one of the cheerleaders of the game she was watching was ‘too chunky to be a cheerleader’. In the words of John McEnroe; ‘YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS!‘ Are you kidding me?? Are you looking at the same woman that I am?

Ladies, we need to have a little discussion about calling each other out like this. Since when is it ok to call anyone fat? Whether they’re someone you know, a celebrity or a stranger on the street? Sure, by all means, you can THINK a woman is fat, that they’re not dressed appropriately or even that they’re ugly but saying it to their face or writing about it online in such a blunt manner? Tasteless, crass and it does nothing but show how ugly YOU are!

Take Kim Kardashian for example. You’ve probably just rolled your eyes at the mere mention of her name but hear me out! What is wrong with her? I mean, really? So she became famous for a sex tape and now she’s just ‘famous for being famous’? So what? Is she personally affecting your life? No. Do I think that her fashion choices have been a little bizarre over the years? Sure! But who am I to say what she should and shouldn’t be wearing? If she looks in the mirror each day and likes what she sees and the way she feels, it’s none of our business, even if she is on TV. Just because she lives her life through a camera, it does NOT give you the right to attack her personally!

I mean, what the hell is up with THIS:

What is wrong with you ladies? She’s PREGNANT! Not fat, pregnant! Women put on weight when they’re growing another person inside of them. Sure, unfortunately all of her weight seems to have gone to her butt which was already pretty big but that doesn’t give you the right to call her a whale. Have some respect! Just because you may not agree with her life choices, love choices or family choices, don’t reduce your opinion to the level of spite. I would kill to have her pre-pregnancy body and I certainly wouldn’t say no to her bank balance so what exactly is your reason for all the hate? One word: jealousy and jealousy leads to nothing but an ugly soul.

If a strange woman walked up to you in a bar and told you that your dress (which you think you look and feel incredible in) made you look hideously fat and old, you would probably go into the toilets and cry so why do you think it’s ok to write on blogs or newspaper articles just how much you hate other women just because you don’t like who they are and you can’t be seen behind your keyboard? I just don’t understand why we’re all so happy to be so hateful towards one another? We all wear unflattering things at times or fall in love with the ‘wrong guy’ but why can’t we get a little compassion and understanding for it instead of outright criticism?!

Why don’t you try complimenting each other instead? When you’re in the fitting rooms and you see another woman looking fabulous in something she’s trying on, tell her! Everyone loves a compliment and it’s certainly refreshing to hear in a society full of criticism from the media and other women!

If a woman has her husband cheat on her, don’t say it’s because she ‘never paid him enough attention’; bake some fucking cookies, grab a box of tissues and be a girlfriend! If a woman falls over and splits her dress, don’t sit back and laugh at her; laugh WITH her and offer her a safety pin or some duct tape!

It’s easier to be nice than a bitch so why don’t you start acting like a lady! And the next time you want to tell a woman she’s fat; keep your mouth shut and look in the mirror!  As the old saying goes; if you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all.

True beauty always starts from the inside out, not the other way around!

Today: It’s ok to feel lost in life

Sometimes I worry that I don’t know where I’m heading in life.  I worry about it a lot.  I think, in secret, we all do.

At the moment I am lucky enough to have a goal and know that I’m doing what is necessary to achieve it.  I know where I’m heading in life and I’m well on my way to getting to the end of, what seems like, my never-ending dark and scary tunnel; I have more direction and plans in my life than I ever remember having and yet, for the past month I have felt completely and utterly lost.  Like Alice in Wonderland when she’s walking through the forest; she wants so desperately to find her way home and yet every path she takes leads her to being and feeling more lost.  And so she cries, overwhelmed by her inability to find home, not only because she IS lost but because she FEELS lost.

For the past month I have been lost in ways I couldn’t hope to describe and have shed more tears than I care to admit.  Whilst I have a strong path to walk in some senses, in others, for the moment, the path is broken and I don’t have the tools to fix it.  Certain things are out of my control and it both frustrates and saddens me.  The logic in my head screams at me to ‘make sense of things’, to ‘sort myself out’ but my heart says something else; it tells me to feel lost and be okay with it because it’s just how things need to be for the moment.  My heart explains that it’s strong enough to wait until I can fix my broken path and that it will get better just as I will; just as YOU will.

I know you’re upset at feeling lost; truly, I understand.  It’s horrible.  You feel like you should KNOW (in our adult age) what to do and how to ‘fix’ ourselves in times like this but sometimes you just have to accept that at the moment your feelings and heart are stronger than your head and that ultimately, your heart no doubt holds the key to feeling ‘found’ again.

Maybe you’re at Uni but feel lost or you’re in a job you hate.  Maybe you feel lost simply because  you’re not surrounded by good people.  There are a lot of ways society can make you feel lost but it doesn’t have to stay that way.  You don’t have to FEEL that way.  Modern age does not like us to get lost and actually gives us very few opportunities to do it.  And so occasionally we run away to get physically, mentally and spiritually lost simply so we can find our true selves again.

We buy the backpack and the plane ticket and we buy into the hope that along the way, we find ourselves once again. That we manage to answer the questions: ‘what do I want to do for the rest of my life?’, ‘where I am going in life?’, ‘who am I?’.  The BIG, yet deeply personal questions. But what’s wrong with not knowing?  What’s wrong with trying every job under the sun until you find the one you love?  What’s wrong with taking life day by day and waking up each day not knowing your physical or mental direction?  What’s wrong with spending your entire life learning who you really are?

Whenever I get lost or fear I’m lost, I remember something my Mum says: you’re never lost for long.

Sometimes you get overwhelmed by life (that’s another post for another day) and feel as though you have nowhere or no one to turn to but you do; the problem is that you are feeling so lost in a mental fog that you often can’t see what’s right in front of your face; YOU!  Ultimately you are the one who has the power to find your direction, your path if you will, and walk it strongly.  We can’t walk your path for you.  We can’t live your life or fulfil your dreams because that is something you need to do for yourself but we CAN show you our paths in the hope that it will inspire you.  We CAN help you build your path and we CAN walk that path with you, hand in hand, reassuring you that everything will be ok.

But for the moment, you’re lost and that’s ok.  Truly.  You’re not alone.  We’ve all been, are going through or will be feeling lost at some point in our lives and the only thing you have to remember is this: It’s ok to feel lost in life.  None of us have all the answers to our hearts and minds.  Though others may seem to be more ‘together’ than you, we all struggle on our own levels, we just don’t always admit it out loud.

(for anyone that has read my story, apologies if you feel I am repeating myself) In 2010, six weeks before I was due to backpack solo around Asia for three months, I suffered a miscarriage (not knowing I had been pregnant) and my world collapsed.  To say I felt lost would be a vast understatement.  Despite crying my way through security, I got on the plane and although I had some happy times, I really didn’t enjoy myself (I’ve never admitted that to anyone apart from myself).  I had moments that filled my soul with unadulterated happiness and I was the most care free I could ever remember feeling and yet, in the middle of a hotel room the night before learning to dive, I cried until I passed out; feeling so small and lost in this gigantic world of ours.  I spent more nights in hotels than hostels in those three months just so I could be alone and would lie on a beach watching the sun set as silent tears rolled down my cheeks despite being surrounded by happiness.  I had no direction in my heart, mind or life until I realised that I had had it all along; I just hadn’t seen it…my love of writing and helping people had been in me all along; I was the thing that was right in front of my face!

Will I find a job that utilises my path?  Who knows.  But even outside of work, I can still walk my personal path strongly.  Maybe, like me, all you need to do is find the key that opens the door to your path.  For me it was travelling because I NEEDED to not because I wanted to.  Maybe your key is discovering a hobby can be turned into a passion and a job, realising you are trying to follow other peoples dreams for you instead of your own or the simple realisation that actually, you’re pretty happy with your life and need something only temporary to lift you.

But if you can’t find your key for now; don’t worry…you can borrow mine.  You can walk my path a little and see how you feel.  Maybe it will show you which path you DON’T want instead of the one you do; both result in a clearer direction for you but remember this; it’s ok to feel lost in life.  It doesn’t last, it can be fixed and you’re not alone.

When you find your key and you’re ready to go through the door, I will walk that path with you, hand in hand, reassuring you that everything will be ok in the end.

You’re never lost for long.

Whenever I’m in London, I nearly always stay at a hostel in Shepherd’s Bush. There’s nothing special to it and actually it’s pretty noisy and it could really do with some TLC but it’s familiar and cheap. Well, I’ve now found my new ‘home’: St James Hostel London. I really don’t know where to begin in telling you how awesome it is!

I could start by saying that it’s just been NEWLY RENOVATED (yeah, those are buzzwords every backpacker loves because you know that the ‘bad backpackers’ haven’t had a chance to ruin it yet) and that it’s in an old town house meaning that it’s spacious, light and feels like a home. Or we could talk about the lovely receptionist who asked me to pay by cash ‘when I came back later’ as she was new and didn’t want to use the card machine without her manager there. Why is that awesome? Because it shows trust in their guests from the beginning which I love! I could also tell you that the hostel actually uses their heaters so it’s both warm and cosy which was very necessary as it was freezing cold at the weekend!

I could go on and on about why I love this little place so much but let’s break it down to some easy bullet points:

Location:

Located at Earls Court Station on the District Line of the Underground, you’ll never have to wait long for a tube and being that it’s on the District Line, you have great connectivity with the rest of London.

Finally! A hostel that is literally 5 minutes from a tube station! Have you ever read a hostel description and you find that it’s not really 5 minutes away? It’s more like 15 minutes by the time you’ve crossed into Narnia and actually found the place? Well you don’t get any of that with St James. You literally come out of the station, turn left, walk passed three streets, turn left when you see Sainsbury’s supermarket and you’re there! It’s ridiculously easy and it’s one of the main reasons I love the hostel because it’s so easy to find….searching for the place is the last thing you want when you’re carrying everything you own on your back!

And speaking of the supermarket, the hostel is perfectly located for amenities. There are coffee shops, supermarkets, restaurants etc – everything you need to keep yourself happy and they’re all within walking distance.

Hostel:

There is a huge common room with a large TV, comfy leather sofa and a good-sized ‘table room’ (as I’m calling it) which enables all us flashpackers to whack out the laptops and do any necessary work we need to or contact home etc. I think it’s a great idea to have this ‘work space’ as people do use hostels to live in until they find places of their own and sitting at a table is much more comfy than on the dorm floor! There is also a whopping great big garden outside so you have a place to smoke if that’s your thing or you just want some fresh air in the comfort of your hostel surroundings.

There’s a brand spanking new kitchen with everything you need from a microwave to a whopping great big American fridge freezer to store your goodies and the hostel is accessed by a key code meaning that there’s no curfew to worry about when you’re out and about enjoying yourself!

The bathrooms are spacious and the showers are a standard cubicle size but you then have room to get changed so you don’t have to worry about walking around the halls half-naked – bonus!

The dorm rooms:

Yep, they’re huge and spacious. One of the worst things dorm owners do is overfill the rooms so that they can fit as many people in to make more money. My female-only dorm could have had at least another bunk in there, or maybe two if they put one in the middle but they held back and I’m glad they did. There’s nothing worse than feeling like you’re a battery chicken in a cage!

You also get your own box lockers. Granted, they’re not big enough to house your bag but because there is plenty of space in the room, you can store your bag under your bed and put anything valuable in the box. Also, the box comes with a key meaning that no one, except you, can get into that box and also saves you worrying about bringing a padlock with you. (NOTE: You pay a £10 deposit for your locker/dorm key which you get back at the end of your stay as long as you give the key back). The other great thing about the dorm? There are plug sockets everywhere which means never having to fight over a plug or take someone elses stuff out.

A bed here costs approxiamtely £20-25 a night depending on when you travel BUT you get breakfast included (cereal, bread, coffee, tea etc) and when you consider the location and all the other great points about the hostel, it’s more than worth it because as they say in life; you get what you pay for and actually, for London, I think that’s pretty cheap!

Now, there were a couple of negatives;

There was a general toilet up on the ground level that has just died a death and is dripping water everywhere but I have no doubt they’re getting ready to fix that because they had builders working on other things whilst I was there.

If I’m being really picky, the girls dormitory didn’t have any full length mirrors (or any mirrors) despite having the room on the walls for them. It’s something small but I know it would be appreciated especially when you’re getting ready for a night out or an interview.

And the biggest negative of all? I’m having to tell you guys about the hostel when I really wish I could keep it a secret and have it all to myself

I was allowed a discount for staying at St James Hostel but I hope by now you realise that I’m a honest blogger and you can bet your ass I’ll be paying full whack when I next go to London…I’ve just found my new ‘home’ for my city trips

And so I wrote a cheeky but pretty innocent (possibly naïve) post about ‘road romances’, saying how much fun they were and that they helped make my journey the amazing time that it was. I didn’t mean for the post to go ‘viral’; I just wanted to be honest with myself and my readers and have a giggle. What I got in return was a resounding ’round of applause’ for being so honest because no one else, up to that point, had been despite everyone admitting that having ‘road romances’ was a huge deal for so many people. So we all cheered, I bowed (naked, of course) and thanked everyone (yes, I’m joking…I never cheered ) but secretly I was taken aback by everyone’s appreciation of honesty when, naively perhaps, I thought everyone always wrote honestly.

Fast forward a couple of weeks and the guys over at TravelSexLife.com (who were new to the community) asked me to guest post and so again, I wrote about the sexcapades I’d experienced in South East Asia, relishing in my ‘new found fame’. But then, something happened; I got a reputation. I’m a ridiculous flirt at the best of times but add this to the post and suddenly I was the Queen of Road Sex despite having only slept with 4 men in 3 months and knowing (privately) people that were sleeping with about 4 partners a WEEK. However, I reasoned that I only had the reputation because, at that time, I was the only one talking about it.

Fast forward another 18 months and, just like a journalistic story that gets picked up 3 years down the line and goes viral (when it didn’t the first time), TNT magazine got in touch and offered me an amazing opportunity; to be a guest speaker at their travel show March 10 to talk about solo female travel!

For a few hours, I pondered over the question; I know I come across as a confident person but am I really brave enough to talk to an entire room of people who are only there to see me and hear me speak? Am I even qualified? But I quickly realised that despite being terrified of the unknown, I should accept exactly for that reason; to face that unknown and see what I think about it. So I accepted and began immediately dreading it.

Weeks passed and friends and family asked how my preparation was going; I told them I had a rough idea of how I wanted to break the talk down but that I would finalise things closer to the time; that never happened. I made an online presentation, wrote bullet points and left it at that figuring I would ‘wing it’ on the day. It’s not that I didn’t want to plan it, I just had so much going on in my life and head that over-thinking it was doing more harm than good. But I had, at least, come up with the name of my talk; The Good, The Bad and The Bumping Uglies. I wanted to talk about everything that solo female travel encompassed and above all else, remain honest.

In the meantime, the editor of the TNT magazine contacted me and asked if she could interview me separately (for the magazine) about my one night stands. How to make the most of them, how to keep yourself safe etc etc and instead of getting excited, I found myself really angry that I was getting a reputation in the travel industry of being ‘free and easy’ in the sex department when nothing could have been further from the truth. I couldn’t help feeling that this was the only reason I was being asked to talk at the show. It felt like all my other posts didn’t mean anything because they only wanted me for the sex talk. And sure enough, when the interview questions landed in my inbox, I read them open-mouthed. I knew TNT were upfront and ‘in your face’ in their tone but the questions made me feel like a whore with no principles when I am completely opposite to that! So after a couple of hours of talking to my friend wondering how I was going to answer these questions, or even if I wanted to, I got to work…I was determined to remain myself and make sure that I came across the way I wanted to. After a couple of edits, I was ready to send the answers back and when I re-read them to myself I realised that I came across as a romantic, sober backpacker who is always prepared with a condom in her purse and that suited me to the ground.

I anxiously awaited the interview to be published (which you can read here) to see how my answers would come across and overall, I was happy. I managed to get the ‘safe/sober sex message’ across and I sounded like a romantic at heart instead of a backpacker seeking her next ‘conquest’. However, they took me out of context on one of the most important aspects of the interview; my talk. The title of my talk, as I said above, was The Good, The Bad and the Bumping Uglies with the talk description of; solo female travel and what it means on the road, in your mind and between the sheets. I would discuss sex but it wouldn’t be the main stay of my talk and yet the interview insinuated that my entire 30 minute slot would be all about sex. However, I let it slide, telling myself that it was probably my own fault getting this reputation because what do you expect when you’re the only one being honest about it in their writing? I consoled myself that after the talk, I would retire the ‘sex honesty’ on my blog and would never mention it again (despite only ever writing about it once).

And sure enough, when I did the talk on Sunday, I met my reputation face to face. I met a friend, who works in the travel industry, who had spent some time talking to travel reps since he knew them; he told them he was going to see his friend do the ‘solo female travel talk’ and they replied with ‘oh yeah, the sex talk’. No what I wanted to hear at all! I wanted to scream ‘one post! I wrote one post eighteen months ago, this reputation isn’t fair by a long shot’. But I let it slide hoping that the ‘real people’ would come to my talk for my perspective, not a verbal strip show.

I walked into the seminar room and was told that the previous talk had been cancelled because no one had turned up. ‘Great!’ I thought; ‘if no one turns up, I won’t have to do this at all!’ And then, the first two people came in and sat down. And another 2 and before I knew it there were over 30 pairs of eyes staring at me, anticipating my words. ‘Oh God. This is it. You can’t back out now Toni.’. And so I stayed. I decided against using the media presentation (against advice), put down the microphone and stood in the aisle amongst them to begin my talk and what happened was truly amazing…

The first third, by both I and my friends’ opinion, was that it was filled with nerves and a little incoherent but that I had then found my footing, grew more confident and sounded more natural. I didn’t talk about over half of what I had planned (which I both regret and don’t regret simultaneously); I didn’t use photos; I just let the words come out. Sure, maybe they didn’t make sense all the time but I figured that even if I completely tanked and there was tumbleweed rolling around the room, this was an experience and a steep learning curve. Whatever happened, I would come away with mistakes made and lessons learned which isn’t always a bad thing.

So I talked about why you should travel as a solo female. I told them that yes, some days it really is shit and you want nothing more than to cry, give up and go home but that those bad times were the exact reason we travel in the first place; to find our comfort zones, push beyond them and learn invaluable lessons about ourselves. And against a lot of advice, I ended up talking about safety in an unconventional way. I explained that the world was an incredibly safe and loving place despite what the media would have us believe but that you should listen to your gut instinct just like you would at home. I told them to accept invitations from strangers but listen to your ‘sixth sense’ and have fun!

And then, as we were talking about risks; I began to talk about sex. The part of the talk I had been dreading ever since the interview. Would I be able to pull it off without sounding like a whore? Would it embarrass people enough to leave? Who knew but talk about sex I did. And I actually only spent about 5 minutes talking about it. I explained that getting to know someone beforehand is the absolute key even if it’s just for a few hours because everyone was more honest and open on the road. I explained that people told me things on my travels that they confessed they had never told another soul; not even if their best friends or family. So I suggested getting to know the person, talking about their travels and making sure that, not only did they carry their own condoms at all times but that they stayed tipsy or sober. I explained that good decisions were rarely made when ‘off your face’ and that the one time you’re incredibly drunk is the time you realise you have no condom but decide to ‘do it anyway’ resulting in a trip to the clinic or the maternity unit. I got my safe sex message across and I was very pleased with it!

It was at this point that I realised we were overrunning by about 10 minutes (the talk including questions should have been 30 minutes); turns out that I DID have something to say and, the fact that only 3 people had left the room, told me that people felt what I was saying was important to them. And when I asked if anybody had any questions, expecting there to be none, people raised their hands! They wanted to know simple things about me, my blog, my travels or travelling in general and I loved it! Interactivity; the thing that any decent blogger appreciates the most. I had made them giggle throughout, I had got them asking questions and at that end, they approached me to THANK ME! Me! A young woman ‘from the country’ who had simply started blogging to keep friends and family informed whilst on her travels. They called me an inspiration, they told me it was great to ‘finally feel I relate to someone’ and one even said I ‘embodied everything physically, mentally and spiritually that a solo female traveller should’. To say I was blown away would be an understatement.

In a room that had felt so cold and scary not an hour before suddenly felt like home and what a truly humbling feeling that was.

Our ‘gateway’ to these game drives was the bustling city of Arusha which was an experience in itself!  A busy city with way too much traffic, dirt roads and market stalls with people selling everything from shoes to animals; it was exactly the kind of city I expected to see when visiting Africa and I loved it!

Arusha markets

Whilst here we were staying at a campsite called Meserani Snake Park - a campsite that is helping lead the way in treatment of snake bits and helps sustain the local Masai community.  Nothing wrong with that is there?  Except there might have been a little confusion on our part from the ‘Snake Park’ title.  You see, we assumed it was only a name for the campsite; that the snake park was separate to our site (as we were told that a visit to the ‘park’ was on our itinerary) and that their treatment clinic was also separate from the clinic.  Oh, how wrong could we be.

We had just arrived at the campsite and were therefore setting our tents and camp base up as usual when our leader asked a couple of the group to fill up one of the washing up bowls with water, telling them that the tap was at the top of the camp area on the wall.  Nothing wrong with that.  Except, no sooner had the guys got to the tap and we hear ‘there are crocodiles over this wall!  HUGE crocodiles!’

‘WHAT??!!  There are WHAT over the wall?  You said what is over the wall??’  On the other side of a 3ft (only 3ft with no fence on top!!!!) wall there were 3 huge crocodiles staring back at us and in that moment we realised that Snake Park wasn’t separate to our campsite, it WAS our campsite.  *gulp*.  We would be sleeping with, not just crocodiles, but a collection of some of the worlds most deadly snakes on the planet, just the other side of a 3ft wall.  Balls of steel required!

Photo credit: Nele en Jan

Snake Park is a campsite set up by a couple (who are now ‘older’ shall we say but refusing to slow down) and they raise funds for the local Masai community as well as helping to set up and run the clinic which is one of the best (if not THE best) in the entire continent for treatment of snake bites, not least because they don’t charge for their service.  Each vaccination of anti-venom costs $200 for example and they don’t ask for a single shilling from their patients or families.  All campsite fees that the couple receive are donated to the Masai community and the Snake Park and a percentage of the camp bar tab is also donated so if you ever needed an excuse to get drunk, this is it because all proceeds go to a worthy cause.  A pretty impressive campsite all round if you ask me (though it would be even better if the most deadly snakes in the world weren’t the other side of the wall in just a glass cabinet!).

Snake Park is most famous for its treatment of black mamba snake bites – people travel for days (sometimes sadly dying on the way) to get treatment but also help with other bites and constantly look into new ways to try and help people faster in receiving treatment and when you think of the logistics and lack of infrastructure Africa offers at time, it really is impressive to see what they have achieved.  Though maybe their next fundraiser could help move the campsite a few more feet away from the most dangerous reptiles in the world?

We got to have a tour around the park which is actually very small but packs enough venomous punch to knock all our lights out!  They house reptiles and other animals that have been found and need homes and also study the snakes etc – rather them than me that’s for sure!  It certainly didn’t make me feel any better seeing the crocodiles up close on personal in the park – all 6 feet of them with their chomping jaws full of razor sharp teeth! Don’t they know crocodiles can jump?!  So I held one to make me feel better…all 2ft of him

Well, you’ve got to start somewhere right?!

And here is where I pass on a great piece of advice for anyone going to be animal park…never be at the front of the group because you know what happens?  You talk to someone in your group and when you turn around, the guide is putting a mother-fucking snake around your neck!  Small snake yes?  Have I held bigger? Yes (insert dirty joke here).  Still scare the crap outta me?  You’re damn right!  It was a little cutie though and was about the only snake in the park that wasn’t poisonous so I thought it was quite sweet.

Thankfully we only had to spend one night here before packing our bags and heading out to the amazing national parks of the Ngorongoro Crater and Serengeti and those are posts you REALLY want to read

Well, YOU might call them internet friends since most of them I haven’t met but for me, they’re real friends whether we talk online or in person (or a mix of both if we connect on Skype).  I name-drop them in conversations with other friends, we have in-jokes, we share advice or a listening ear when we need to; they are no different to the friends I have made at home, there’s just a little physical distance between us.

The problem with my ‘internet friendships’ comes when I have to explain them to ‘real’ friends and family. ‘But how can they be your friend if you’ve never met them?’ ‘What do you really have to talk about’?  The list is endless and you know what, a few years ago I would have understood the questions.  I was lucky enough to grow up with a computer in my house meaning that I was one of the first people I knew to get the internet when it became readily available.  This then meant that I was in chat-rooms aged 13 making friends; such good friends that they (and their parents) travelled for miles so that we could meet each other.  Even family members thought I was a freak for ‘believing’ that anyone on the internet could be a) real b) a true friend c) free of serial killer tendencies.

Times have changed and technology has become a daily part of our lives without us even realising and yet people still question how a friend online can be called a friend at all.  It’s called conversation and effort.

I’ve met so many people through Twitter which has lead to meeting them in ‘real life’ as well.  When I go to London, as much as I detest the city with a passion, it’s full of people that I love.  At the end of last year after a visit to the city, I spoke to one of my ‘internet friends’ and said that seeing her had reminded me how much I missed her.  Her reply explains it all:

“I forget that my internet friends are just as real and important to me as the friends I grew up with (if not more important sometimes!)”.  Never a truer word has been spoken.

Over the past year, as I often wasn’t well enough to even leave the house, my ‘internet’ friends became one of the most important things I had and without them and the technology to be in touch with my best friend at home all the time, I would have struggled to keep my head above water.  They became my lifeline.  My joke-tellers.  My voice of reason.  The people I turned to when I had no-one else.  You can’t let me tell you that and question whether or not they are true friends.

I may never meet some of my friends but doesn’t mean I don’t carry them around with me in conversations or in  technology that’s sat in my bag. My ‘physical’ friends were great, truly, but my internet friends became more important in some respects; possibly because of our shared love of travel.  Many of us share the same dream of being able to ‘live the life’ and travel for as long as we can and they also know what it takes to do that; things that my ‘real ‘friends didn’t know which meant that when I struggled to see what I needed to do to help myself; they were there with suggestions and advice.  That doesn’t meant that my ‘real’ friends were any less important to me as a whole but we all become more and less useful to each other at certain points in friendships.

We all seek different things from friendships at different times according to how we’re feeling or what our situations are but realising that our friends are not defined by ‘real’ or ‘internet’ is the key to appreciating all the friendships that we are lucky enough to be part of.  It doesn’t matter if you’re the other side of the world or just up the road; I’m still your friend.

So how about we stop calling each other ‘real’ or ‘internet’ friends and just accept that friendships come from all over the place and include a huge variety of people.

We’re just as special as each other

The local children were pretty curious to see a bunch of white people in the guesthouse to came over to stare at us, play amongst themselves and giggle with us; they were very cute and loved seeing the photos that we had taken

This church just outside Stone Town is built on top of the old slave market (which you can visit) and is a testament to both gorgeous architecture and the hideous trade which used to take place here.  The church was built on the old slave ‘living quarters’ so that the island of Zanzibar could learn to try and forgive the negative past and look forward to a positive future.

A monument outside of the church stands there to remind everyone of their history and how they have moved forward.

Want to know how you get fresh coconuts?  Stand away from tree, let this guy do the climbing and don’t get hit by falling coconuts!

A couple of the local children decided it was time to get some fish!

A short but powerful storm decided to create a bit of a sandstorm and churn up the waters before I went for my dive!

Sunset falls on the last day of my time in Zanzibar – such a beautiful country!

I was so pissed off that I unfriended her; something I’d been considering for a while but her off the cuff comment totally enraged me because she represented everything I’m so against.  Since when did honesty in life become something to run away from?  Sure, at times, I do have a ‘wobble’ and think, ‘jeez, if a potential boyfriend reads everything from my sex posts to my deepest darkest thoughts before they’ve really got to know me, they’re going to run a mile’ but at the end of the day, if a man is worth anything, he will respect my honesty and realise that yes, I have talked about those kinds of things openly but only because I wanted to help inspire people and documented my physical and emotional journey, however brilliant or crappy those times may have been because I want to be able to look back and see how far I’ve come.

I don’t want to attract a boy who’s level of emotional maturity is deciding whether or not sleeping with 3 girls a week is acceptable or not.  I want a man that appreciates that I’ve had life experience and that it gives me a unique perspective on life.  Sure, I know I’m asking a lot because let’s face it, most men do just want to get drunk and have sex but that’s not to say that they can’t do those things with me whilst appreciating the type of person I really am.

Honesty shouldn’t be something that we hide from, it should be something we celebrate.  When the day comes and I meet a special guy, will I tell him about my blog?  Sure but maybe not straight away.  Despite it being in the ‘public domain’, my blog feels like a very private place to me.  The place where I connect with special, like-minded people (like you) and where I can be brutally honest with both myself and others.  It’s my eyes – the ‘window into my soul’ as Edgar Allen Poe believed.  I want them to meet me in person and judge me for that version, not some version they’ve read about online and already made their minds up about before we’ve even made eye contact.  Just like anything you read online in news for example; words may tell you a story but there is always another story to be told in between.

This is me; the same person online as offline!

And yet, I’m as honest on here through my writing as I am in real life.  On my first date with my ex, I told him about my past and he told me his and it only served to connect us more not create distance.  When it comes to life, I’m an open book whether you’ve known me for years or just met on my travels.  For me my blog is simply an extension of my personality offline; I’m no different so if people can’t handle my honesty either off or online then that’s their problem not mine.  Besides, from my experience, most people that run away from honesty are the people that can’t bring themselves to be honest in the first place.  Yes, I’m not going to lie, sometimes it’s incredibly scary being honest but isn’t life about doing things that scare you so that you can get over those fears and accomplish things?  I’m honest in the hope that it might, just one day, inspire even one person or at the very least make them realise that they’re not alone in both their euphoria or sadness.

The person you meet on here is the person you’ll meet offline.  I can be funny, sad, honest, frightened and fall over myself helping you and that’s what personal writing should be about; personality.  I can write ‘things to do’ lists but I’ll add in my sarcasm where I can. I can write deeply personal thoughts in a serious tone.  And I can write rants that really make you laugh.  And yet, yes, deep down, I do worry that a man won’t ‘get it‘, get ME, especially if he’s not a blogger and wonders why I’d write such personal things online (but if he doesn’t get blogging then I’m not dating him but that’s a whole other blog post).  Whilst I may be a travel blogger, as I’ve said to you before, I truly consider myself a writer.  I don’t say that to be a snob or belittle blogging, I just mean that my love of writing covers all genres as you have no doubt seen on here.  I write for you, I write for others and I write for myself; I have and will always be a writer at heart.  It’s not something I can describe; it’s just part of me.

So am I undateable?  To a lot of men, sure.  Confidence and honesty isn’t something a lot of men can handle and I worry that at times I just won’t find someone special enough to appreciate those qualities but until the time I meet that Special Someone, I am The Undateable and PROUD OF IT!

After weeks of campsites, okay hostels and the guest house of Stone Town, we couldn’t believe it when we arrived at the hotel and walked into our room…

I felt like a princess and despite the huge room and bathroom, only had to share it with one other girl from my group.  We had a balcony, air con and fresh towels…I couldn’t believe it!  Spoilt and loving it.

After getting over the shock of the amazing room, we ventured down to the beach which was just yards away and couldn’t believe what we saw.  Bright blue sky, white sand and turquoise sea; it was everything the holiday brochures advertise and more!  Oh yes, I could get used to this!

We had roughly 3 days in this picture perfect paradise and I used them wisely by spending as little time as possible with my group (more on that in another post) and by having fun instead.  Our bar had a lovely area full of cushions which was so relaxing…especially when there was a power cut and you wanted to chill out with a good book so I did just that.  Every day I took my journal, book and music to the beach and I just relaxed.  It was just what I needed.

I also did something I’ve always wanted to do…get henna!  I’m not sure why but I’ve never got around to doing it before but this time I took the plunge and went to one of the huts on the beach which had some stunning designs.  Each hut had 3 or 4 women in them all talking amongst themselves and smiling and the lady that did my henna was so fast!  Almost my entire hand was covered in 5 minutes and I fell in love with it!

After a while of letting it set, reading more of my book and just generally relaxing the hell out of Nungwi Beach, I headed over to the scuba diving office next door to ask about their dive spots and prices etc to see if it was something I wanted to do.  One informal chat later and I’d booked a dive the next day before I even realised what I was doing – another amazing place to brag about when people ask where in the world you’ve seen the better side of the ocean

I spent the rest of my day sunbathing and taking photos on the beach before enjoying a lovely dinner in the bar and finishing the day off with a shower and a comfy bed; not much else I could ask for

The next day was D-Day – Dive Day and I couldn’t wait!  I’d heard so much about the beautiful waters off North Zanzibar with its fantastic wildlife and visibility but someone clearly forgot to tell the clouds about my dive because there was a short but strong storm about an hour before my dive and I wondered if it would be called off but thankfully, the clouds disappeared, the blue sky came back out and before I knew it I was getting into my wetsuit (which wasn’t a pretty sight let me tell you!) and jumping into the dinghy for my new dive experience!

It wasn’t the best dive for a couple of reasons…the storm had affected the visibility and my dive guide had over-loaded my weight belt meaning that, not only was I sinking quicker than the Titanic but tilting to one side like a fish with an inner ear problem.  However, it was a great experience  I got to see an Octopus change colour and saw 5 turtles including the resident 3-legged one and another one scratching his butt on the coral – very cool!  Not a bad way to spent $50 of my travel fund that’s for sure!

And how did I spend my afternoon you ask?  By getting another henna tattoo of course…I told you I fell in love with them  This one extended from my ankle to my big toe – beautiful!  So I did more sunbathing, more reading and more writing in my journal taking in the beauty of my surroundings for my last few hours.  Relaxing and making sure I did what I wanted without spending too much time with the group was exactly what I needed and I was sad that I would be leaving the next morning.

I spent my final night on the beach enjoying music, sending emails (to make sure Mum knew I was still alive) and watching the sun set on one of the most beautiful places I’d ever been to.

And let’s not forget breakfast on the beach in the morning where I had one more little photo opportunity

If you think these photos are pretty, just wait until the photo essay!

We spent 3 days and nights driving from the Western border of Tanzania, right across the country to the East Coast of the Indian Ocean.

Before I knew it we were at the Dar es Salaam campsite waiting to begin our 4 day adventure on Zanzibar…even the name sounds exotic and with cheap flights available, you can get to this paradise too!

The next morning, we stepped on to the ever-so-comfortable Catamaran ferry and prepared for the sound for we had been warned about; vomiting.  That’s right folks.  The water in the Zanzibar straight is extremely choppy and the local people don’t seem to appreciate the ‘high water’ so when sick bags are handed out, you know you’re in for a rough ride in every sense.  Thankfully I fell asleep not long after leaving port so avoided the retching.  A delightful image isn’t it?!

Soon enough we were greeted by the harbour of Stone Town…

We were allowed some free time to roam around the famous alleys of Stone Town and their certainly didn’t disappoint!  There’s something about small alleys, cobbled streets and ‘secret doors’ that awake the curious in all of us and Stone Town has that in abundance!  Zanzibar, and in particular Stone Town, is famous for its wooden and intricately-designed doors and they don’t disappoint; they’re so pretty and show such amazing craftsmanship.

After spending the afternoon wondering around the alleys and relaxing with the most amazing chocolate frappé I’ve ever had, we started our evening at the famous Africa House for sundowners (drinks at sunset) which has the most perfect setting to sit, sip and take in the magnificent views that Zanzibar has to offer.  It’s a must for anyone in Stone Town which is why it’s always so busy but the cocktails, seating and views more than make up for it!

After watching the sun go down on another day of my beautiful adventure, it was time to eat…one of my favourite things to do!  So we headed back to the gardens on the harbour front to the famous night market which serves sooooo many goodies it’s hard to decide what you want first!  Samosas? Check.  Calamari kebabs? Check.  Zanzibar pizza?  Check…and eaten  The Zanzibar pizza is the signature dish; essentially its a crepe with a filling but it’s yummier than you think!  After stuffing myself silly, it was time to head back to the guesthouse for a good night’s sleep before the adventure really began!

We started the next day with a spice tour but since I hated it, I’m not even going to dedicate a sentence, never mind a post to it.  Moving on…

It was the afternoon when I really fell in love with Zanzibar.  We all climbed into a matatu (Africa mini-bus) and drove for an hour through villages and plantations until we reached the North of the island; the place that honeymoon photos are made of

But if you want to see THOSE photos, you’ll have to come back for future posts.  Trust me; it will be worth it