In which Demi goes there and back again.

A belated happy 2014 everyone!

(...pauses for odd stares)

Ahem. I realise I am beyond late, but quite how we're nearly mid-February I'm not sure. Last time I blinked it was New Year, and I was stood in the wind and rain and cold as close to the South Bank as I could get (not very, since we got waylaid by a pub and had to make do with watching the fireworks through gaps in the London skyline).

Now I'm home, home home, back in the North, and my London life feels like a dream. August to the end of November, as well as a hefty chunk of January - gone in a flash. I had the busiest and best, best, best time, making new friends and reconnecting with a whole bunch of people from University. There was an immediate shift daan Saauff (that's 'down south' for those who don't understand my pretty accurate imitation of my dire southern accent) in September 2012, after graduation, but I was part of the second wave - people who, like me, had been figuring things out for a year, or had been tied up in a four year course.

Jumping in at the deep end, I stayed with a friend of mine for the first week while I checked out potential rooms, and ended up living in the quiet area of Raynes Park with three complete strangers, who turned out to be ridiculously nice. Bonus! For a city-phobe like myself it was perfect - a fast train route straight into Waterloo, enough shops in nearby Wimbledon and Kingston for me to spend my non-existant income, and my best friend close enough for after-work visits. Yes, my darling Elf made the jump down in the September, and together we explored Clapham (Infernos and Aquum owe me some of my dignity), ate incredible food in Balham (and most other places actually) and spent a ridiculously fun afternoon meeting one of my writing heroes in Kensington at a film and comic convention.

Oh Aquum...

My adoptive southern family

Elf (R), her friend Natalie (L) and myself

My adorable little Raynes Park room

A family trip to Kew Gardens in the summer, when my parents brought down (more of) my stuff

Yes, yes he does. One of my favourite PR stunts, I moved down only a couple of weeks after Murray's historic Wimbledon win, to find that the local Morrisons had replaced their name to acknowledge his achievement.

I couch-surfed for longer than I probably should have in January - it's a good job Elf's housemates have practically adopted me at this point - until I had to realise that my drained bank account spelled out only one thing: H-O-M-E-T-I-M-E.

So with two more solid PR placements under my belt, I must admit I was disappointed to leave London empty-handed in terms of a job. A couple of near misses and several 'let's keep in touch' open endings have me furiously applying while supplementing myself with freelance work for my first placement.

[FYI, if you're interested in beauty and want to get some amazing behind-the-scenes interviews with top make-up artists, from Bourjois and Bobbi Brown to the legend behind The Lord of the Rings (I genuinely nearly died of excitement when he wrote back to me), then check out Warpaint, which I write for!]

SO, while I recalibrate myself and dust off the ol' blog (and journal, and writing notebooks - they've all been in a drought too), I'll leave you with a couple of songs which are currently being repeatedly blasted from my room, much to my family's frustration joy.

They've missed me really. xo.

'Can't Remember to Forget You' - Shakira ft. Rihanna. Two of the sexiest ladies on the planet, and two of my favourite female vocalists. Joy!

'SuperLove' - Charli XCX. Bubblegum pop perfection.

'Girls' - The 1975. I caught these guys at Dot to Dot Festival last spring, and they were amazing, even though they were suffering with sound tech problems.

'Happy' - Pharrell Williams. Because who doesn't love this song?

In which Demi goes mad for Malta

As I've mentioned in the last few posts, I embarked on a spontaneous end-of-the-summer-and-student-lifestyle holiday with my friend A., who I've been friends with since the middle of high school.

Flapper fancy dress at school

A. and I had several lessons together, when the year group started to get set depending on ability aged 14, including the core Maths/English/Science, and we soon struck up a friendship which helped to form a group of friends - my home girls - which still exists. Then we both, coincidentally, chose to go to Nottingham University, where we subsequently became even closer than we already were. Our third year at university was especially important to me, as we both experienced a lot of heartache, upset and joy which served to bind us tighter to one another, providing a comforting link to home and our past.

I rarely have to explain anything to her - she always seems to know exactly how I'm feeling and, while she doesn't always agree, can empathise and advise. While I jokingly think of myself as a therapist to several people, A. is my own therapist. And because she's awesome, she got snapped up for a big accountancy job down in London, which she started on Monday (and I know she'll be kicking ass at, already), leading to our separation for the first time since we've been friends. She only left on Sunday, and I miss her already.

I love this photo, from when we went to Liverpool to visit O.

BUT, this is not a melancholy post. We had too much fun for this to be a depressing post!

Malta was brilliant. I had no idea what to expect before we arrived, after throwing it out as a random location suggestion while we tossed ideas around. We'd both been lucky enough to already have been to a lot of mainland Europe, and our big American adventure had to be put on the back burner when news of the mysterious and rather scary lump reduced my chances of getting insurance to pretty much zilch.

After the hassle of travelling hand baggage only, thanks to pesky Ryanair and their ridiculous charges, we staggered out of the airport to be greeted by the cheerful mini-bus driver, who informed us that there was a heatwave currently hitting the island... yup, back to 42 degrees. And this time, we'd gone cheap and our hotel had neither air-con nor its own pool. As I am not one who copes particularly well with extreme heat when neither of these are nearby, I was massively apprehensive of what the week would bring.

Luckily our hotel was kind enough to provide us with a fan. Unsurprisingly, it simply wasn't enough to properly contend with the heat.

Nice try.

Despite the heatwave making it more difficult, we had a great time exploring the island. Due to its turbulent political history (such as casual invasions and being "gifted" by various monarchs) the melting-pot of culture we found was unlike anything I'd ever seen. The majority of the population spoke English as a second language (handy, as their place names contained ridiculous amounts of the letter 'x' and far too few vowels!) due to the fact that the British were the last of the colonisers, but due to its proximity to Italy, it retains a largely Mediterranean feel - from the food to the older, Venetian-style decorative buildings. Which, in turn, rubbed shoulders with modern North African-style buildings, with their blocky silhouettes. 

The capital, Valetta, and the original capital city Mdina, were absolutely stunning. The latter was especially unique – after the capital was moved to Valetta following the great Siege of Malta, Mdina was rebuilt but somewhat abandoned; the streets were mostly deserted, a city frozen in time only interrupted by the wandering tourists. The entire city has been turned into something  of a giant museum, overflowing with history and treasures to be explored. Unfortunately I forgot my camera when we went to Mdina - d'oh!!

Stunning ironwork and columns

Brightly coloured window boxes punctuated the serene stone

The Co-Cathedral's interior was as impressive as it's exterior

Baroque decadence inside

We were fairly restrained with the many sight-seeing opportunities that were presented, choosing to visit Valetta, do a hop on/hop off bus tour (in which we visited Mdina) and a harbour cruise, interspersed by days at the beach. And by beach, I really mean rock...

It wasn't bad though, as we discovered Surfside, a bar/restaurant/club which had a bunch of sun beds (for free, yessssssss) and backed onto a stretch of these beauties:

I am not a fan of the sea AT ALL, so these were the perfect compromise

These rock pools were half naturally formed, half man-made - apparently originally used by Victorian ladies who wished to bathe privately, and each pool would have a tent over it. They were great, as you could dip in to cool down, and not have to deal with the open sea with the waves and the current. I will always choose pool over beach - not knowing what's in the sea freaks me out - so being able to A) touch the bottom and B) being able to see what's in the water made me a lot more comfortable.

And before I finish up, I HAVE to mention two places we ate at and adored. The food was amazing everywhere we ate (I don't think I've ever eaten so much in my life), but these were our favourites. First up was a cafe called Mint (in Sliema) - opposite Surfside, which was handy! - where we had lunch most days, and MY GOD, the food there is incredible. It's a traditional Kiwi cafe apparently, with a big chiller cabinet of savory choices and another for desserts. They constantly have new choices in the cabinets, as they have a 'once it's gone, it's gone' attitude, and simply replace the old choice with a brand new one. I loved it, as there was constant variety - never mind day-to-day, if you came back later in the day they would be serving completely different things to when you were there before! Everything was delicious, and I have a special place in my heart for their Snowcap cookies.

Secondly, on an evening we would take the bus to the nearby town of St Julian's, which had more of a nightlife and an abundance of restaurants, bars and clubs. We were big fans of Paparazzi, an Italian/American themed bistro whose burgers (especcially the chicken burger with sweet chilli sauce) were incredible. Also, if you're ever there, check out Bar Celona (we loved it for the name if nothing else!).

Mega frozen strawberry daquiri!!

So, basically... Malta is amazing. I would definitely recommend!! My tan has mostly faded back into my usual pale Irish skin, but looking at my still-tanned feet (so brown they look orange against my pale legs...) reminds me that it did all happen. xo.

♥

In which Demi fawns over Frascati

I've been extremely lucky and been on two incredible holidays this summer - one with my family (minus my older brother) and one with my gorgeous friend A., before we are separated for the first time since we became friends aged fifteen.

Firstly, to Frascati. Just south of Rome, Frascati is rustic Italy at its finest. Barely anyone in the town spoke real English, apart from the lovely staff at our hotel, and was mostly made up of restaurants and a scattering of boutiques. Oh, and an incredible gelato parlour which was never anything but heaving on an evening. During the day, when we ventured out for lunch, the place was sleepy and deserted, shimmering in the midday heat as the locals (wisely) took shelter indoors. But on an evening, the place exploded with people; gossiping teenagers, shrieking children, couples - old and young alike - sat on the steps of the church, simply watching the world go by.

We did venture into Rome for a day, as it was only a short train ride away. It was beautiful and interesting, but my attention was massively crippled by the intense heat; we'd coincidentally picked the hottest day of the year to make the trip, and sight-seeing in baking 42 degree heat was painful - literally, as I got physically burned when I sat down on the baking black seat of the tour bus. I'd love to return in the spring or autumn... definitely not summer. There's a reason people escape the city in the summer months.

Castel Sant'Angelo

The Vatican

Our beautiful 16th century hotel

The biggest and most delicious pizza everrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

It was, as it turned out, the hottest week of the year so far. Which, for two easily burning Britons (AKA my dad and I), was not ideal. It was so hot that after the first couple of days the hills began to ring with the sound of fire sirens, as local fire teams raced to put out the fires that were springing up left, right and centre. Fire planes, like enourmous canaries, swooped scarily low over the hotel grounds multiple times a day on their way to the nearby lake to fill up. It was pretty worrying, and the best we could do was keep checking in at the hotel that we weren't in any danger.

Other than the minor fire worries, it was a week of relaxation and de-stressing. My parents from their busy lives, and me from my surgery two weeks prior. A week of slowly, carefully excercising in the pool (and a somewhat doomed attempt to hold off the carb calories; Italian food is incredible).

More importantly, it was the first family holiday we'd taken in a while, for various reasons. And, it felt like, the first time this summer we were able to really relax and just be a family again, since the months of June and July had been so hectic and fractured. I wish my brother had come along too, but he chose to stay at home.

Next up... Malta mayhem with A. xo.

In which Demi is a jet-setter.

Another blogging delay, I know! I suck. In my defence, I spent a lovely (albeit scorching hot) week in Frascati, just south of Rome, with my family, followed by a week of seemingly non-stop catch-ups, day trips and general time wasting with my friends and family.

And today I am off to Malta for another week, with A.! We booked it after I'd spent less than 24hrs at home, after the mysterious and rather scary lump put a massive dent in our America travel plans. We're celebrating our last summer together, before she swans off to London to live the high-flying life, in her gorgeous new flat in Clapham. Not that I'm jealous or anything. Although I don't envy the fact she's locked into a contract where she deals with tax every day. Ick.

More in a week. Photos, news, book/film reviews galore, I promise. xo.