Our Big Fat Greek Wedding

I recently went to Greece to attend a wedding. "A wedding!" you say. "This must have been a dear friend, a beloved relative, a close and important sibling for you to go such a way for their wedding!" And you were be right, if one's friend's cousin's cousin's cousin's wedding can be considered as such.

You see, six or seven years ago, N and her cousin stayed with N's cousin's cousin's cousins in Verdikousia, a little mountain village in central Greece (in the proximity of the city of Larisa, for those of you playing at home). N's cousin's cousin's cousin and his family put them up for two nights, drove them to Mount Olympus and generally showed them some sights and some great hospitality. In return, N showed her cousin's cousin's cousin around Sydney when he and his fiance visited a year and a half ago. And as a result, she and I (her +1 in this scenario) were invited to his wedding.

The plan was that we would arrive in Athens late on the Thursday, do some sight-seeing on Friday morning, catch the train to Larisa in the afternoon, book into our hotel, go to the wedding and reception on the Saturday evening, then back to Athens on Sunday and back to England on Monday. A flying trip, but how often do you get to go to a real Greek wedding in your life?

And at the last minute we found out - not only had we been so generously invited to this wedding, but the groom himself would be picking us up from the station and driving us to Verdikousia to spend the night with his family, before all going to the wedding together in Larisa the next day.

We were picked up right on time from the train by a very tired looking groom. Apparently the first Greek wedding tradition to be got through is a full WEEK of partying with family, friends, relatives, randoms (for instance, us) every single night. Every night, the groom's family makes food, sets up tables and people just show up for hours of eating, drinking and dancing until 4 or 5 in the morning - and then there is also all the wedding preparation to be done during the day. No wonder the groom just looked ready to get married and be done with it!

After a beautiful drive up into the mountains, we were greeted warmly and shown to our room. I don't have room here to do everyone justice, but the blanket statement that everyone was equally hospitable, and everyone treated us like simultaneously one of the family and also as an honoured guest should just about cover it. Most of the older generation didn't speak any English, so we had to get by with a lot of smiling and gesturing, but most of the people our age spoke English amazingly well (although every single one of them apologised for their poor English) and worked hard to make us feel at home. We learned about 10 words between us (N learned nine, I learned one) and one of my favourite moments of the whole weekend was being taught to count by a five or six-year-old who very earnestly wanted us to learn. Poor thing, he must have thought we werepretty slow. Anyway, now is not the time for dwelling on such things - instead, let's discuss what happens on the day of a traditional Greek wedding in Verdikousia.

- The groom sleeps until 1pm, having been up the previous evening (and all the other ones before that) until about 5am
- The children start having their hair done first, and getting into their beautiful suits and white dresses. This means that they have to be fed by the adults for the rest of the day, or risk spoiling their beautiful outfits.
- The adults then have their hair and makeup done, in time for the photographer and videographer to arrive around 4pm.
- The groom is then dressed by his family, who help him put on his coat, shoes, etc.
- Family photos ensue (including one of us with the groom...so maybe more like 'family' photos?)
- Then, the groom and his family, friends etc. have to go and invite the best man to come to the wedding. You need a clarinetist and accordion player for this, in case any dancing should be required. We had to stop once on the way to dance, so thank goodness they were there! We were welcomed at the best man's house with drinks and snacks and more dancing. Thankfully, the best man was free (phew!!) and came back up the hill with us to the groom's house.
- At this point, we had to deliver the bride's shoes. The groom's mother had these, inside a balloon (it sounds weird but it looked very cool) and a convoy of friends, family and cousins's cousin's cousins was required to deliver these to the bride. So we jumped in the car and headed down the hill (a cow, dog and some sheep wandered onto the road at various points and also a tractor, but we made it)
- We arrived at the bride's house and were shown upstairs, where her bridesmaids proceeded to put the shoes on for her, which is more difficult than it sounds - one of them needed to have some money and a rose petal inside, and on the sole of the other she wrote the names of all her single friends in ball point pen, the tradition being that after a night of dancing, whoever's name is still legible is the next to get married)
- The groom's family and friends are expected to steal things from the bride's house so we connived a the stealing of a sandal and photo frame
- There was more dancing
- As the bride left the house, she drank a glass of wine and threw it over her head and smashed it
- And then we went to the church for the wedding! All this took us up to 8pm, so it was a beautiful golden sunset as the bride arrived at the church, for the part this had all been leading up to - and I think it was worth the wait! (also, the children look adorable)

Amsterdam

It has come to my attention that I'm going on a LOT of holidays this year - and maybe this is something worth sharing!

So I'm going to backtrack and start with Amsterdam, because that was first, and move on from there.

It has been said, and said again, that travel is not about the destination but the journey. I'm please to say that this isn't always the case. I'm sure we've all experienced a journey that was only made worthwhile by the destination; and my journey to Amsterdam was certainly one of these.

It was a 4-day weekend away with my two closest Cambridge friends, N and E, a brief window in our lives to spend time together, catching up, laughing, praying and eating (but not in an Eat Pray Love way because that book is seriously the absolute worst).

Our journey began straight after work on the Friday evening. We had to cut things pretty fine to get from work to Stansted for our flight, so there wasn't much margin for error in the plan - there was only one train that would get us through security with enough time to get to the plane. E wisely booked herself a cab to take her from work to the station, to make sure that she got there; a cab which arrived early and left without her. Thankfully it didn't go far, so she just made it in time, although the driver seemed surprised that she had expected a taxi booked for 4.45 to actually wait until 4.45 before leaving.

The next hurdle came at Stansted, with the liquids bags. Like everyone else in the world, we had booked carry-on only, and it was only at the security gate the N found out that her bag - bought from Stansted - was too large to go through the Stansted security gate. (Most memorable line from this experience was "That bag was 20x20! I'm a teacher! I use 30cm rulers a lot!") Unfortunately the security personnel were unbudging, so we emerged on the other side lighter by a deodorant, moisturiser, lip gloss and sundry other items. Luckily, our flight was delayed 30 minutes so N had time to duck into Boots and buy a new deodorant.

It wasn't until we were chatting in the boarding line that E casually asked, 'So does our airport transfer just pick us up from the gate?' I had forgotten to book the airport transfer, it seemed. By this time, we were all out of internet coverage and couldn't work out even if the transfer had been booked, whether it was included in our stay, etc....so realised we would have to take the train when we landed at 10.30pm.

Luckily, the train in Amsterdam is pretty straightforward and we arrived at the central station some time between 11.30 and 12, at which point we were too tired to work out the tram system and caught a taxi to our hotel, from someone who didn't seem able to tell us much about Amsterdam (what was a good local food, what we should do as tourists apart from visiting the red light district, etc...)

Our hotel room was at the top of a flight of stairs for which the word 'precipitous' might have been invented - I'm not sure we should have climbed up them without mountaineering equipment, let alone with three wheeled suitcases, but we made it. Discoveries upon getting ready for bed included: N had not brought either pajamas or toothbrush (these kind of things appear really important when you're really tired, we might have blown it out of proportion a bit) and finally, that instead of buying spray deodorant at the airport, she'd accidentally bought femfresh.

These things aside, we got into our pajamas and got ready for bed. It was at this point - at 1am - that N discovered that flushing the loo caused sewage to pour out of the drain in the shower.

The next morning was a brand new day, and while there was a lot of back and forth about the sewage room, we got there in the end. And I can say that, as tired, grumpy and frustrated as we were with the journey, the destination was absolutely worth it. Amsterdam is such a lovely city - canals, bikes, bridges (with lights! in the arches!), beautiful trees, tall skinny buildings, waffles, friendly people - it was such a fun and lovely holiday. We rode Dutch bikes, went on a river cruise, walked the streets and ate delicious food and it was an absolute joy. We might just need to work on our grasps of logistics before we go to Croatia...

Cake

In the past week, I have realised that one of the biggest parts of my life in the UK has been cake. My life has always involved a fair amount of cake, e.g. the delicious vegan cakes cooked by my colleague at Macmillan (those lime and coconut vegan cupcakes have never been forgotten) and the various banana/pear/raspberry/strawberry breads that seemed to always appear at Glover St were amazing. But my consumption of cake has increased exponentially since moving, and I personally have only baked once. Here are the different places where cake is found:

- Work: every time there is a birthday, anniversary, leaving, new arrival, pregnancy, marriage, or someone coming back from holidays, there is cake. Also when people's gardens overflow with fruits that could be used to make cake. So yes. There is ALWAYS cake at work. The best example of this was the spectacular array of cake that we had for a recent charity cake morning. See below - I think the picture says it all. Because that is a cake. And all of it is edible.

- Choir: every week, a section bakes for everyone else. Deliciousness ensues.
- Bible study: last week, we all chose a cake that we would like to see at some point during the term. It was my one year-a-versary last week, so mine was first (see below) and it was certainly delicious.

- Home: there's no specific system for cake, but there always seems to be something around. There was a point when we first moved in that I think we had banana bread, chocolate cake, a different other cake and a fourth kind of cake sitting around the house and we had to have a house moratorium on buying new cake until all the old cake was gone. On Friday I saw one housemate for only 10 minutes, during which time she handed me a cupcake before leaving for the next 2 days.
- Out: one of the highlights of Cambridge is Fitzbillies, which has delicious cakes in it. When I don't know what to give someone, I go there and buy cake. It's always a winner.

I don't really have much else to say on this subject, so to sum up: there is a lot of cake, everywhere; it is all delicious and amazing; thank goodness I ride my bike everywhere when there is so much cake around.

ONE YEAR

One year ago exactly, I got on a plane at Sydney Airport and headed over to the UK. It's simultaneously hard to believe that it's already been a year, and that it's only been a year.

It feels like no time at all since I stepped off that plane and started my new life here - I feel like there's so much I haven't yet done, so many adventures still to be had, that it can't possibly have been a year.

At the same time, I can't believe that I have only lived here a year - I have made friends that I know I'll keep for the rest of my life; I've learned to love a new city; I've settled into work; I've lived in three different houses. I've also seen four completely distinct seasons, which is something you don't get back home. It's now changing into autumn, and I'm back where I started. In the past year I have:

- Travelled to London, Edinburgh, Derbyshire, Wales, Prague and Zagreb, often with family or friends from back home
- Swum in the Atlantic
- Coppiced
- Stood in a cathedral listening to a woman whistle 'Jerusalem'
- Climbed Arthur's Seat
- Fought with snow
- Picked apples off a tree and eaten them
- Walked 10 miles, singing
- Made a Christmas dinner
- Moved house a couple of times
- Learned to punt (sort of...)
- Made many many friends

In the next twelve months I will do some or all of these:

- Go to Munich, maybe twice
- Go to Devon
- Celebrate Christmas with some Australians in Cambridge
- Go to Africa
- See the Northern Lights (in Iceland? I hope so...)

And that's just the things I have planned. I'm sad because one year past means only one year left (probably? Possibly. I don't know) and that seems so short - but what a blessing this year has been.

Homesick (take 2)

Yesterday I wrote a post feeling VERY sorry for myself. The gist of it was that I'm homesick, but I expanded on the theme for a while. I posted it and then when I re-read it, it was so self-indulgent that I just had to scrap it and start again. The theme of that post was - woe is me, how homesick I am! But while acknowledging that I am homesick, maybe it's more constructive to say WHY I am homesick. So I'm going to copy a wonderful friend's example, and tell you about the very special people I have in my life, and I think this will help to explain why I might feel homesick when they're far from me.

1. Mum (who should always come first in every list). Who can say what a blessing it is to have a mother who is simultaneously incredibly capable, full of good sense, funny, kind and a wonderful daughter of God? My mother does NOT like to talk about herself very much and will hate me a bit for this, but golly I'm glad to have her. She tells me funny stories about what the dog is doing, about her work as a school chaplain, about what's happening at church - and when I think about the way she talks about all these things I think, what a big heart she has. I am so glad to be her daughter. I have literally never wished for a different or 'better' mum. And perhaps I go my own way and perhaps I don't really look like I'm listening when she gives advice .... But what she says always has some impact. She always thinks of what is best for us - so when I had second thoughts and thought about staying in Australia because I was afraid, she said "I don't want you to go but I think you'll always regret it if you don't." What a mother.

2. Sisters (so different in who they are and also in our relationships, but I can't put one first or it looks like favourites). One is a mother of three who is also writing a novel. Um, what? How is that possible? THREE children AND a novel. Amazing. The other is a 13 year old who I have seen grow from a baby, who is such a big part of my own life and so important to our whole extended family that sometimes I think we couldn't exist without her. Also we are all identical.

3. Grandparents. A year or two ago they celebrated 50 years of marriage. They are such a faithful couple in serving the Lord, loving their family and caring for the people around them. And in September, they're going for a cruise through Russia to celebrate being nearly 80. I want to be these people when I'm nearly 80. They are amazing.

4. Friends. One best friend studying and working in Adelaide whose passion and fun and depth and frivolity make me laugh and think and be oh so grateful always. Another getting ready to move to Johannesburg to be an OT whose infectious personality and gorgeous smile and do-anything approach to life are something beautiful to behold - who also gave me the gift of the ukulele (the actual instrument and the ability to play it) and the inspiration for the musical voicemail. Another living out her dream job in Canberra and Darwin, with whom I've shared the details of life through emails for the past 6 years, and who has provided the soundtrack to my life through her mix tapes. Another who is grace and style personified, a feisty, passionate thinker who is equally committed to living thoughtfully and to having fun - and who really ought to move to England as she keeps thinking of doing! And SO many more. I have been so blessed with friends.

So yes, I am homesick. But I'm also so thankful. I could never be homesick if I wasn't unbelievably blessed; just as I'll miss Cambridge terribly when I move on, because I'm so blessed in my life here.

Next time I'll be back to a whimsical list but it's sometimes nice to talk about my feelings.

To do

I recently decided I need to keep a to-do list of all the things to do before I leave England. And then I thought, why not be properly gen y and make everyone read that list?* So here it is - including some things I have done and some others that I may never actually get around to. But hopefully I'll be able to tick off most. Please add any suggestions, and more importantly please help me to do these things if it lies within your power!

1. Leave Cambridge once a month, either on a day trip or holiday. Technically this is my New Year's resolution although I'm undecided on whether I've managed to keep it. I only passed January if already being in Scotland at the beginning of the month counts, and I've only passed April if already being in Croatia counts (unless I skive off tomorrow and go to Newmarket or something equally grim). I'm going to say they do count otherwise I'm awful at this resolution and I'll just have to try harder for the next 17 months. My reasoning is that it's ok if I don't use the same trip for two different months - i.e I can use Croatia for April as long as I use a different trip for March. Decision justified.
2. Go punting - this will be happening on Wednesday 8th, weather permitting.
3. Learn to punt. Or at least try to learn. I have little faith that I'll actually be able to do it.
4. Swim in the Cam. (4b - not get mystery illness from swimming in the Cam. 4c - research carefully and avoid the nudist section of the Cam)
5. White Christmas (by going somewhere snowy rather than by staying in England and praying hard)
6. Build a snowman and make a snow angel.
7. Christmas in July
8. Gain admittance to as many colleges as possible without being questioned.
9. Go to a May Ball - probably too late this year but I might be able to sort it out for next year.
10. Scratch Requiem. If I can find one.
11. Go to the beach.
12. Go hiking (or strolling) in Scotland.
13. Have my first Guinness in Ireland (because now I'm so close it would be weird to have my first Guinness in England).
14. Follow the path of the Orient Express from Istanbul to Paris. It's ambitious but it's specific.
15. Visit 14 Montagu St London, near the British museum, where a dear friend left her bible when she was 19 years old - it was restored to her 30 years later by a German missionary and his wife. Good story.
16. See a footlights production.
17. Go to an opera.
18. Go to a ballet.
19. Go to a garden party.
20. Drink pimms by the river.

Add any suggestions for places to go, things to do and dares to try (bearing in kind I'm not all that daring). I'll try to get as many done as possible!

Aside - if you want to get a postcard from me, send me your address. Even if you just live up the road, I'm all about the postcards now.

*It has come to my attention that I am now treating what was going to be a blog as a series of whimsical lists. Apologies.

26

It's been a while since I did one of these, and I thought I'd better give it another shot. The idea for this particular one came when I bought peppercorns and realised I have no idea how to put them into the pepper grinder, and then connected with someone else's '21 things I learned while I was 21' blog (one of those blogs where someone comes across as high-achieving and motivated). This is not one of those, but perhaps it will make you feel better about yourself.

I consider myself fairly together as a person, but here are 26 things that I still can't do, aged 26:

1. Re-fill a pepper grinder (NB I know how to do this now because my housemate showed me - but how do you go 26 years without ever having to fill a pepper grinder?)
2. Change the oil in a car. This is a rich seam, actually, as I also can't change the water for the wipers or change the tyres or essentially do anything except put petrol in the tank, but it would be cheating to list absolutely everything I can't do with a car, except:
3. Reverse parallel park - I used to be able to but in the 7 years since I took my driving test, I have forgotten how.
4. Dive
5. Ski
6. Change the height of my bike seat (but please let me make this absolutely clear - my bike seat is currently the correct height and does not need to be changed)
7. Put darts in a dress that's too big for me
8. Tell the difference between section sewn and perfect bound books
9. Make a bed with hospital corners
10. Mow a lawn
11. Essentially, use any kind of power tool at all - is it because my mother once had an accident with a chainsaw? Or is it lack of interest? I guess we'll never know.
12. Breathe from, or with, my diaphragm when singing. Probably. How do you know if you're doing it? Is it from, or with?
13. Tell the difference between camembert and brie (I suspect there is none)
14. Use a coffee machine
15. Use a corkscrew (in all fairness I have used corkscrews several times throughout my life but I have to re-learn every time, screw caps meaning that I rarely get the practice)
16. Play 500
17. Translate pounds and ounces into kilograms and grams - this shouldn't be a problem but this stupid country is still using the old system
18. Cook fish
19.  Understand the appeal of Wes Anderson
20. Play 'Dream a little dream of me' on the ukulele - and not for want of trying
21. Play tennis - absolutely for want of trying
22. Anything to do with finance - because it's essentially imaginary numbers, and I don't trust them
23. Anything with a spreadsheet beyond basic data entry
24. Spell 'commitment' or 'amendment' without serious consideration, potentially dictionary involvement (I had to look them up just then) (I looked them up again when I read through a second time)
25. Understand preferential voting - I completely believe that it's the best system, and I have no idea how it works
26. Put a huntsman spider under a jar, slide a piece of cardboard under the huntsman spider and release the huntsman spider into the wild. I tend to approach huntsman spiders with large boots and end their lives, because the idea that the huntsman spider might continue to live in and around my garden is unbearable and the idea of sliding a piece of cardboard under the huntsman spider so that it is the only thing between me and the huntsman spider is also unbearable. I know they're not poisonous but one should always take into account the fact that they are a) terrifying and b) named 'huntsman'.

I should add a number 27 to this list - because I also can't figure out a good way to end this post. So I'll just end it here, which is pretty much in keeping with the tone of the whole thing.