Discovering Venice

As all famous cities are mid Summer, Venice is a gaggle of tourists and tacky souvenirs. So if you’re not into group tours of more than 50 people following around a red umbrella raised above some unenthusiastic man's head (I have no idea why people find this an exciting prospect) then don’t follow the crowd, discover the real Venice.

Myth busting- Venice is expensive, smells of sewage, and is full of sleezy Italian men.  Walk the tourist route and yes you’ll pay twenty quid for a microwave pizza, get a few stenchy whiffs, and those risqué shorts and strappy top will attract a good few romantic invitations. So opt for a local haunt, avoid the dustbins, try to avoid the school holidays... maybe go in Winter and wrap up warm. A year of living in the sinking city and you realise that if you dress and act like a tourist then you’ll get the tourist experience, but don some jeans, trainers, and an unstylish purple shiny puffer jacket and the locals welcome you as one of their own.

Drenched in rich culture and history, Venice is architecturally inspiring and atmospheric. After a wander around St Mark’s square and a vaporetto ride at sunset you’ll realise that it’s more fairy-tale than the Magic Kingdom.

To me Venice signifies sensational wines, timeless fashion, delicious food and cultural beauty. Oh, and a drunken Erasmus year spent ‘studying’ the local bars.

Considering a day in Venice?  Have a look at my day plan:

• Begin the day early with a visit to a coffee and pastry shop. Tonolo, a local favourite hidden away by the university in Dorsoduro, serves fantastic coffee, miniature cakes and pastries which are so popular they often sell out by mid morning.
  
• Beat the hoard of tourists spilling off the cruise ships by getting to St Mark’s basilica as early as possible, ideally 9am at the latest.  Soak in the beauty and opulent design of the city’s most famous church. If you have time, go to the top of the bell tower opposite for spectacular views over Venice.

• Hop on a vaporetto (waterbus) to Ca’ Rezzonico and choose one of the local eateries to get a platter of ham and cheese accompanied by a glass of wine (don’t worry, drinking wine before midday is totally encouraged!)

• Grab a gelato from the best ice cream shop in existence, Grom. You will have walked past it not long after you got off the vaporetto. Take full advantage of the free tasters while deciding your flavours. Enjoy this in the bustling square of Campo Santa Margherita which is an ideal spot to people watch.

• Unless there is a particular gallery you want to see or if you’re feeling flush and fancy a cheeky gondola ride, I would spend the rest of the afternoon wandering around the streets taking photos, getting lost and indulging in a few more drinks. Maybe stop for a few cicchetti (snacks),or  try a Mozzarella in Carrozza (fried Mozzarella sandwich)  unless you’re on a diet!

• Jump on a vaporetto (waterbus) to Rialto bridge and take a snap of this must see bridge in its daytime madness.

• You will have noticed everyone sipping on a fluorescent orange beverage... this is not lucozade. If you haven’t already had the pleasure, I introduce you to Spritz- sparkling white wine or wine and soda, with aperol (or campari if you have no tastebuds). Have one at Muro bar by Rialto bridge.

• Find another local eatery and order a pizza. (Send me a message if you want a few recommendations) Wherever you end up, just make sure you don’t get a tourist menu as they are always poorer quality!

Got longer than a day? Try these too...

The small islands of Murano (famous for its glass) and Burano (famous for its lace and brightly coloured houses). Great for photographers and beautiful at sunset .

Lido beach. A great place to get away from the hype with a bottle of Fragolino.

Visit some of the many art galleries Venice has to offer.

Doge’s palace in St Mark’s square.

Go to the opera.

Giudecca’s women’s prison.

San Michele-The Cemetery island. A weird suggestion but really quite impressive.

Send me a message if you want any more tips!

Fight for what you want

As we get older, getting what we want becomes increasingly less frequent. This is probably due to the fact that our wants have upgraded somewhat from 'I want an ice creeaaam!' to 'I want to win the lottery'. Our wants grow bigger as we grow up.. 

But how do we know if what we want is achievable; are we just chasing dreams or is there a chance that we can make them come true? Unfortunately a date with Ryan Gosling or Sienna Miller is highly improbable no matter how much you tweet them, but a date with that cute barista at your local coffee shop, or that (can you be more than my) friend .. Why not?

Actually, lottery winning aside, plenty of our desires are achievable, but a lot of the time we are too scared to put ourselves out there and take the risk. Far too often we limit ourselves with the fear of failure and rejection. But fear is what makes things exciting (Hi I'm Laura and I'm a thrill seeker)! Don't be restricted by it, be empowered by it. You want a date.. Ask. You want a pay rise because you know you work twice as hard as that  lazy cow in the office.. Ask. And if at first you get shot down, put on a bullet proof vest and try again. Just because you didn't get what you wanted the first time around doesn't mean you'll never get it. 

Embrace your inner child: when you were six and you wanted to go to the park you would ask (aka 'pester') your begrudging parents if they would take you, knowing full well they would say no. You weren't afraid of failure, or the rollocking you would get off your mum, you kept badgering on, hopeful that there was a chance (all be it a small one) that they would cave in and you would get what you wanted (take off those rose tinted spectacles, I wasn't the only demanding child).  

So I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't be afraid to fight for what you want, embrace fear and accept that yes, rejection and failure is a fact of life, but 'feel the fear and do it anyway' (one of my mum's most memorable mottos). 

...and on the theme of lottery winning; remember you can never win the jackpot unless you play the game!

Conquer that fear!

There are the classic fears of spiders, heights, and enclosed spaces. The obscure and ridiculous ones such as a fear of socks, cotton wool or losing phone signal (nomophobia is a genuine a phobia...I told you there are some ridiculous ones). Worst of all are the subconscious ones which creep up on you in your sleep and terrify you as nightmares.  Whether you’re a hard nut who laughs in the face of danger, or a massive hypochondriac who squeals when someone puts mushrooms in their meal (like my fella), we’ve all got a fear.

Two years ago my biggest fears were spiders and heights. I had vivid nightmares about being on the top floor of a shopping centre and there being no railings to stop me tripping and falling off the side. I would pelt out a horror film scream if even a tiny money spider crawled past me.  With this in mind, my decision to go to Australia, a country famous for its deadly spiders and dramatic cliffs and gorges, may have seemed a little absurd. Yet determined not to let my fears control me, I booked my one way flight and prayed for the best (no point in wasting money on a return flight if I may not survive!).

It was very early morning when I arrived, but my spider sensor kept me exceptionally alert. It began with checking the bus seat before I sat down, and quickly escalated to insisting the windows be kept shut in the hostel room despite it being a sweltering 38 degrees (obviously spiders can only get in via windows and doors). As you may expect, I wasn’t the most popular person in the hostel. On my first night in Oz I managed a meager 3 hours of sleep, and that was just because my boyfriend lied and told me that he would keep watch to make sure no spiders crawled into my mouth while I was sleeping. The ‘every person eats an average of 7 spiders in their lifetime’ fact becomes slightly more petrifying when you’re surrounded by red back and funnel web arachnids (aka the killers!).

Yet somehow, amid showering with my poisonous eight legged friends and trekking to gigantic gorges and waterfalls in the Kimberley, I overcame my fears. The stupidity of having to be surrounded by an infestation of truly deadly spiders to finally overcome my fear of them makes no sense to me, but it worked. I now have two well fed daddy long leg spiders living above my front door, and rather than squash them, I leave them there to eat all of the pesky flies, and to remind me not to let fear stop me from doing anything. Give it a go; climb to the top of a tall building and peer off the edge, dare yourself to take the lift, let a spider crawl across your hand (maybe not a poisonous one though), and I bet you’ll feel proud afterwards.  Take control and conquer your fears!

Don't skimp out

I think we've all had our moments of ruthless skimping; when you buy the cheap tea bags over pg tips, despite the fact that they taste like dust, they will do because you're on a budget. You go 'own brand' throughout the majority of your weekly shop, save yourself near twenty quid, then meet up with friends and end up blowing fifty quid on a wild night out. You are left no better off, with a horrible hangover and bland tins of beans to nurse you back to health.

I skimped this morning and still haven't stopped cursing myself. My train to London was due to leave at 11:28am, so waking up at 8:30 I had plenty of time to make my way down to the station. I didn't need a taxi there, (italics)it's only a 7minute drive down to the station so it  wont take too long to walk(idiot!idiot!idiot!). Grabbing my handbag and wheelie case, at 10:45 I embarked on my 'little stroll'. At 11:25 I was running towards the station with minutes left, drenched from head to foot, face moisturiser dripping into my gasping mouth, a river of mascara cascading down my face and my back clammy with sweat. Not ideal for a  4 hour train journey. I had spent the past 40 minutes bracing myself against the bitter wind which continuously whipped rain into my face, reassuring myself that, well, it's good exercise and you've saved yourself £5!! As I clambered onto the train, face numb from the cold, and unable to see anything through my fogged up glasses, I slumped towards the cafe coach. Feeling VERY sorry for myself I purchased a hot coffee to thaw my icy face and a sandwich to ease my now grumbling stomach. 'That'll be £5.05 love'. As my heart sank with the realisation that I hadn't actually saved anything, I felt obliged to advise you this.. Do not skimp. Those cheaper jeans will shrink in the wash. That bargain barbers will butcher your hair. That cubic zirconia ring does not look like real diamond. And if you skimp on a taxi, that taxi driver will laugh and drive past smugly as you squelch towards the station.

The Last Minute Dash

No matter how many hours there are before work, food is wolfed down last minute as you scramble to put your shoes on. Although you know what time the train leaves, you always find yourself doing a little run walk to get to the platform on time.  The last minute dash crops up countless times in our highly scheduled days; to reach the post office before it closes, to get back from lunch break, to quickly write a new post before work (that last one’s for me).

This is a habit I am currently trying to curb (she says sat in her pj’s whipping out a quick blog half an hour before work). It’s tough because time is precious and there is SO much to do, but not leaving enough time for the little things like having a cup of tea and preparing for the day can leave you in a bit of a mess, despite having ticked off the important tasks. Arriving at your destination feeling fresh, confident that you aren’t emulating an embarrassing Bridget Jones blusher moment, and that you don’t smell like you slept in a bin, is underrated.  My LMD (last minute dash) tends to go something like this; take a bite of toast while tying shoe laces, grab make up bag for last minute application in car (not whilst driving though, don’t arrest me), hunt down front door keys (they are never where I think I leave them) and compulsively check that all of the household appliances are off (there’s a bit of OCD in all of us). My dad’s LMD tends to be; wake up (on couch still wearing yesterday’s suit), use one product to both moisturise face and style hair, and grab body spray and coffee to humanise himself on the way to work.

So the next time you crack out that to do list to plan your day, don’t forget to give yourself time to do the little things. That extra 10 minutes will see you arriving at work punctual and on your boss’s nice not naughty list, and will prevent any last minute mascara slip ups from frantically oomphing your lashes in the rear view mirror of your car when you arrive. Allocate yourself some chill time and eliminate that last minute dash.

Clueless!

Feeling more clueless than Alicia Silverstone as Cher Horowitz? Like someone must be using you as a participant in a psychological study because NOTHING makes sense? We all have moments in life when we are faced with impossible tasks, nonsensical assignments and mind boggling decisions. So how do we deal with them?

It's just the third day of my editorial work placement at the local paper (which I'm loving by the way!) and I'm already following leads, writing articles and proof reading pages before they go to print. However, diving head first into a sea of technical jargon I feel like a baby learning how to talk. Being fresh to the world of journalism I've already had my share of making it up as you go along and nodding enthusiastically at tasks I had no idea how to tackle. One thing I've discovered is that with confidence and self belief, the impossible is possible.

Whatever the task or decision, tell yourself ' I CAN do this!' (you may get a few funny looks for saying this aloud so yes, the voice in your head option will do). Stick on a smile, and even if you feel like a monkey with a rubix cube, just have a go and see how you get on.  Don't just close your eyes and hope for the best, open them and have a little faith. Chances are you will surprise yourself (monkeys are actually quite intelligent). And if things are just too much to tackle alone, don't be afraid to ask for some tips or advice; there's no point in wandering aimlessly in the dark when someone can turn the lights on!

Moving To The City

Warm sunshine beating down in the garden, birds singing, lazy river flowing, trees, animals and flowers galore. But not for much longer. In two weeks time I make the move into the big smoke, I'll actually be IN London this time. When people ask me where I live my answer won't be the usual 'oh near London, just forty minutes outside' (which is code for small, countryside village absolutely nothing like London but as a Northerner the closest I've ever lived).

City or country? Although I'm eager to make the swap, I'm curious to know..when you compare the two, which one comes out on top? I had reservations about country living to begin with; being awoken by horny ducks mating outside my window at half six in the morning did not sell it to me. However sitting on the balcony with a glass (or 3) of wine, watching the sun set over the fields is truly magical. With the weather so beautiful at the moment I can't help feeling like the countryside is acting like a bitter ex rubbing it in my face 'you idiot, you're leaving me? Well check out how spectacular I am!' 

Yes life in the country is beautiful, relaxing, idyllic, but here are some of the things I wont miss.. Getting a pizza craving at 10pm and discovering that not all ASDAs are 24 hour!? Going shopping in town and being limited to new look and super drug. Everything being at least a ten minute drive away (which means far too many sober nights out). Local entertainment being the obliterated drunks who do a round of the pubs dishing out painfully bad chat up lines like 'Do you believe in love at first sight or shall I walk by again?' (not as funny the third time around).

Despite this I can't help but love living in the countryside and have to recommend you give it a go sometime. Can I really survive in the city with the only tweeting being that of the nearest smart phone? Watch this space...

Restrained splurging

Sometimes there is no better solution than to throw caution to the wind (or money at the retailers) and splurge. Sometimes those shoes just have to be bought, that show needs you in it's audience, and that espresso martini needs a willing body to intoxicate.

When the money worries of attempting to finance life in London on a waitress's wage got too much to solve, the only answer was to grab my sister (aka fellow impulsive sporadic spender) and let go of some money worries by letting go of some money.

Disbelievers, don't mock it until you've tried it. While I wouldn't recommend splurging on Chanel and Mulberry (guaranteed credit card hangover the day after), a little luxury here and there certainly numbs the depression of realising that you're way over your overdraft. Just as contradictory as 'sweet sorrow', 'restrained splurging' is life's beautiful oxymoron. Getting out of the house for a coffee and cake may not seem the best idea when your bank account is so painfully anorexic, but it is guaranteed to brighten your mood. 

Be it retail therapy, a trip to the cinema (which I'm afraid is considered a luxury with London's extortionate prices) or that quaint cafe you always wanted to try, grab a pick me up! Let go of your sensible side and have a day free from your wise mother's warnings of consequence. What's life without a little splurge!?

I'm afraid you need experience for that experience!

After years of living and breathing tests, fuelled with the firm belief that education is the key to success, now that we have wrapped up our SATs, GCSEs, AS levels, A levels, End of Year exams, Mocks and Degrees, the job market has changed its mind..'erm, actually we don't care about your degree, experience is the new must have'.  Since when is the job market as fickle as fashion? 

It would appear that us twenty somethings are the unlucky generation who endured the tests obsession and education overload, and then graduated in the pit of the recession. Why do we have no experience? Maybe it was a little hard to fit in midst the endless exams and part time jobs we needed to fund our hooch jackets and new Nokia 3310s. We were sold degrees with the assurance that they guaranteed you a job, yet now they are so common place the 'essentials' bullet point 'Candidate must have a degree' reads as unimpressive as 'Candidate must be able to speak'. When applying for a job in a bar or cafe it's detrimental to your success; 'degree' reads as 'WARNING this person will leave you as soon as humanly possible'. Can I get a refund on that degree because it definitely doesn't do what it said on the tin.

Negativity aside, university is an incredible life experience and I still believe in the value of education. But a word of advice for employers out there; give us twenty somethings a chance. Remember we still worked for three, four, five years for that degree. Don't bin that CV and assume that lack of experience means lack of skill. Plenty of us are trying to get our hands on some experience, but apparently you need experience to get work experience nowadays!

Run Away!

So, I'm going public with some personal info ... I'm training to run a half marathon. I'm telling you this so that I can't back out of it, which is becoming an increasingly tempting idea (I'm not a quitter, I've just come to my senses!). After watching my boyfriend complete a triathlon in 2011, I told him how proud of him I was and (foolishly) suggested, ' hey maybe someday I could give it a go?'  (not expecting to be held accountable for my throw away comment). Two years later, after 15 months of indulging on Asian noodles and cheap beer, and in what can only be described as the biggest slump of my fitness ever, I am signed up to the 'Run to the beat' half marathon. Gulp!

My first run really can't be described as a run at all, more a steady jog...or a dad run, which is really just an exaggerated walk. I *ahem* ran along the canal, fuchsia faced and hair slicked back with what looked like wet look gel (actually a pool of sweat). I did all of the classics; striding along full pelt with a fake smile plastered across my face when a dog walker strolled by, forcing a cheery "hello!" and collapsing when they were finally out of sight.  

The biggest fear of a non runner braving a run has to be running into someone you know (pun totally intended). Running into your ex would of course be the worst. Nobody wants to  bump into an ex when they are an unfortunate shade of beetroot, wearing ugly ill fitting, thigh enhancing Lycra sweat pans and an old Nike hoodie. Thankfully this is something I have managed to avoid (touch wood!).

Anyway, the reason for broadcasting this is to encourage you to get out there and do it. Swim, gym, cycle, run. Get active and get that serotonin flowing! Even if it's just fifteen minutes around the block, get your heart pumping and get some fresh air. You know you'll feel better for doing it!

Emotions are contagious!

Emotions are contagious; worries are transferred from daughter to mother, giggling is infectious and one person's negativity can ruin a whole evening. The phrase 'I feel your pain' is often very true; if someone upsets my sister, they upset me too, and I know it's the same for my mum so god knows how she coped with two hormonal monsters during our teens (total mum respect).  Watching a sad film, whilst cathartic, really doesn't make you feel any happier. Whereas a romantic comedy is bound to turn that frown upside down (no, 'Marley and me' does not come under the 'romcom' genre).

A couple of days ago I contracted happiness when I jumped into my boyfriend's cloud nine success bubble. He was offered a fantastic job: exciting, great team of people and impressive starting salary. His feelings of elation, relief to finally launch his career, and joy at being able to chill out in his free time rather than job hunt, seeped through my skin. So much so that I had to prize the celebratory bubbly out of my hand and remind myself that I'm not the one who bagged the dream job (yet!!). I didn't experience an ounce of job envy (ok, maybe a tiny bit on my way to complete a hectic split shift at the pub). More than anything I was proud, excited, and soaking up his happiness like a dry sponge.

Although surrounding yourself with purely upbeat, positive people, is probably an unreachable goal, do make sure you spend some time with the people who can make you smile and feel like the world is your oyster. Try not to get dragged down by other people's negativity. Channel your inner Mr Cheerful and when you pass someone in the street, offer them a cheery grin; smiles are as contagious as yawns! (warning, this may not work on the streets of London)

The Power of Sleep

Ignore the people who say 'you get enough sleep when you're dead'. They are wrong. If you hadn't heard that phrase before now, pretend I didn't say it because it's ridiculous. Sleep should be appreciated, savoured, and given the time it deserves, 6 hours is just not enough!

Today, with the power of 8 hours sleep I have been transformed from a grouchy, migraine suffering, puffy eyed, runny nosed mess, into a functioning human being again. Yesterday's heavy lidded, heavy hearted state of misery has been slept off (mum breathes a sigh of relief - no teary skype calls today!). Today I woke up fresh at 7am, on my own, without moaning or the incentive of a cup of tea in bed (yes, my boyfriend spoils me). Half of you will think that getting up at 7am for no reason is madness, and the other half of you will label me a lazy slob for having a 7am lie in, but for me this is progress. I'm kicking the late to bed late to rise habit, investing in some beauty sleep (it worked for princess Aurora), and remembering that there are two 7 o'clocks in the day. It would seem I have reached the age where going to bed at 9pm is totally acceptable, encouraged even.

Sleep is not a symptom of caffeine deprivation. Don't deprive yourself of those forty winks because you're too busy, because sleep is what keeps you going. Get your eight hours and make sure at least one is before midnight as I swear that makes all the difference. Not sure if sleep is all that important? Sleep on it and I'm sure you'll see sense in the morning.

Just keep going

The most useful, vague but valuable advice there is. When you're panting, sweltering and fantasising about collapsing into a pool of icy water half way through your run. When you have another two thousand words to dream up to finish your mind numbing, tedious essay on French politics. When you've been dieting for six weeks but have yet to loose that stubborn stone which hugs your hips like a needy child not letting go. It can be the most annoying advice to hear; of course you should keep going, but you just don't flaming want to! 

Today I hit a brick wall (metaphorically of course), I was moaning about work,fed up of internship hunting, and had a severe case of writers block.  Bad combination. All I wanted to do was to spend the morning lazing in the sun (which I continue to be amazed is still here and hasn't gone into hiding again). I compromised and took my work outside with me. In true English fashion I developed strawberry pink shoulders and wonky T-shirt tan lines. Yet somehow, between intermittent groans and sipping on the most delightful coconut bounty smoothie I've ever tasted, I managed to finish my work and tick off my never ending to do list. 

I'll keep this one short and sweet so you can get on with your own to do list (which I'm almost certain you have).  Whenever you feel like giving up, remind yourself of the reasons why you're doing whatever you're doing. Re motivate yourself; visualise yourself at the finish line, handing in your essay, a trim size 10.  If you're writing like me, don't over think it (something I'm totally guilty of)! Most of all just keep going... And if you happen to venture to Biggleswade (which is probably never going to happen) try a bounty coconut milkshake, they're amazing!