The Vaujany Experience. Part 5……”Ill Sleep In May!”

The familiar catch cry sung by all seasonaires, “Ill sleep in May!” became somewhat of a motto we all seemed to live by. The wicked tiredness that seemed to constantly lap at our feet, ready to consume us at any point if we didn’t fight it became a constant struggle. It was something to get used to, as there was no point in complaining about it, as everyone was fighting the same battle, you just got on with it and kept the image of your warm, cosy bed in May at the end of the tunnel alight. Burning the candle at both ends of the stick is inevitable during a ski season, its part of the experience and without it your season would be a fraud.

And now that May is here…thankfully. I am finally able to rest. To sleep until my heart is content with the memories of all the fun times lived, constantly with me. Bliss!

The Vaujany Experience Part 4.......Work, Ski and PARTY!!!!

When it came to night spots within Vaujany, there wasn’t much choice. We had Steif’s bar, Arsen’s café, and Ski Peaks’ the Rissou Hotel for après ski or quiet drinks after work. But our beloved Swallow Bar was the place we all marched off to every Tuesday night. We all filed through its saloon style doors to the university type bar, complete with sticky floors, toilets without locks, pool tables and arcade games! Every Tuesday night there was a band, of varying quality. And nothing would stop us from getting up on the picnic style wooden tables and have a good old boogie to shake out the cobwebs of the previous weeks work. It became our outlet and thankfully all Kick Ski staff had Wednesdays off, which meant that Tuesday nights landed up being rather messy and we were all thankful for the cold yet, sobering walk back down the hill to our staff accommodation in the wee hours of the morning.

The rival English Company in resort was Ski Peak and despite the undercurrent of the rivalry between the two companies, we formed a strong social network and became the ‘English Group’ amongst the Danish, French and Belgium groups within the Village. Part of the fun of Tuesday nights in the Swallow Bar was the guarantee that the Kick Ski crew would meet up with the ‘Ski Peakers ‘and we would all forget what company we worked for and have an awesome night together. We truly made some great friends amongst the ‘Ski Peakers’ and our season would not have been the same without their friendships.

The Vaujany Experience Part 3.......Home for 5 Months

My home away from home for 5 months was the small village of Vaujany. It is situated at the top of a beautiful valley, right next door to the much larger resort, Alpe D’Heuz. It sits at 1250 metres and has some of the best views and landscapes of the Alps, you could ever wish for. I was certainly blown away by the shear grandeur of the mountain ranges which surrounded the village and the quaint, picturesque village, complete with its original old farm buildings still intact, some dating back hundreds of years.

The resort itself is still very French. Retaining that authentic historic feel and small village essence with a true sense of community. You soon get to know the locals and become apart of the background as a seasonaire. I have made some great French friends as well as English friends whom were also working in Vaujany for the season. The rival English Company, called Ski Peak, employed loads of Australians as well, so I never felt alone amongst all the French and English!

The village, had everything you needed, complete with its own escalator system, claiming to be the longest covered escalator in Europe!! There was a great gym and pool too which was a welcome leisurely change from all the skiing and partying. I frequently used the sauna and spa for my aching legs. Or simply went to the gym or pool for a change from skiing.

To reach the slopes, we took the cable car, which could hold 160 people at full capacity. It took us straight up to the slopes in a swift few minutes, travelling from 1250 metres right up to 2800 metres at the second stage of the lift. The skiing in the Alpe D’Heuz/Vaujany area was exceptional. It hosts the longest black run in Europe, ‘Le Sarenne’, and has great open wide pistes. At its highest point, 3330 metres, we could see the tip of Mont Blanc and ski the glacier.

The chalet I worked in was called Franrick Lodge and it had prime position within the resort. Being only a 1 minute walk to the cable car and with spectacular views, facing out to the waterfall, named La Fare, which was obviously frozen during the winter and spectacularly lit up at night time. But as Spring came in, the waterfall started to flow again. Its noisy flow of water, a constant reminder of the changing seasons and the impending doom of the end of the ski season.

Our staff accommodation and other Kick Ski chalet, La Maitreya, were situated 5 minutes drive down the valley, in a small town called Le Perrier. Despite our accommodation being outside of Vaujany, we were thankful to be able to escape the village and hibernate in our very own staff chalet at times. I can honestly say that it is the best staff accommodation I have ever seen. We were well looked after. We had a lovely 3 level chalet, complete with our own balcony with views down the valley towards Allemont, as well as our own kitchen, lounge and spacious bedrooms. I shared the upstairs mezzanine area with Sophie, a lovely, if not messy English girl.

The Vaujany Experience. Part 2……Living within a bubble

Having been back in Tuscany for only 3 weeks, and with the recent ski season feeling so, what’s the word, recent I guess, I am finding the task of writing about it a true struggle. It’s hard to write about such an amazing period of my life so retrospectively already. How do I begin to capture all of the many adventures, phases, ups and downs of the last 5 months? I simply can’t. I am scared I won’t do it justice. The intensity of the lifestyle which I have discovered and fallen in love with cannot be put into words. The limiting use of language cannot begin to help the reader visualise and experience what it is truly like. Only those, whom have experienced the seasonaire lifestyle and lived this intensity through their own eyes, will understand the world which I have found within a ski resort.

Maybe it has something to do with the grandeur that you are surrounded by in the Alps or the extreme alpine conditions which we are subjected to live in which make the experience of a ski season so intense. Maybe you could blame it on the sleep deprivation from partying too hard, the exhaustion of skiing everyday or the long hours spent cooking, cleaning, and pleasing the guests. I think the truth lies in all of the above, mixed in with the strong friendships and bonds which are formed by all seasonaires alike and the knowledge that time doesn’t wait for anyone. Spring will arrive and that these too short 5 months are here to be lived and not simply passed by. You quickly learn to never waste a day. When the fresh powder has fallen, we all drag our weary heads up to the slopes and find a new world above it all.

The Vaujany Experience. Part 1……The Next adventure

I embarked on my next adventure on the 1st of December 2008. I was to begin working as a chalet host within the small village of Vaujany in the French Alps. I was about to join a team of 9, whom I had never met, for the small company of Kick Ski to run their two well appointed chalets in the heart of the Isere region of France. I honestly had no idea what I had got myself into. Not in my wildest dreams could I imagine what was in store for me. Or that I was about to find a lifestyle that I would fall in love with and as you will read, arriving into a ski resort wasn’t going to be the only challenge I would be faced with…..

London…….Part 5. Being a Tourist

In my four days in London, I have to admit, I let the tourist in me come out. Although I was wondering its streets and pavements in the hope of finding its essence, I was drawn into seeing its ‘sights’. I was intrigued by the Tower Bridge, the Big Ben and the Thames. From such a young age, we grow up seeing the Big Ben Clock Tower on the television and hearing about the gates and guards at Buckingham Palace, so I guess it was only natural for me to want to experience London’s sights with my own eyes. Without trying to put you asleep by just rattling off a list of the sights I saw, I will try and find a way in which to describe them, in the light I saw them in.

Without a doubt, one of the best Friday night drinks I have ever had was with Jo and Jacinta at an intimate Jazz bar, just off Carnaby street. The bar was called something about Jazz or All in the Jazz, anyway, something like that. But it was brilliant, it was some of the best live jazz I had ever heard, the atmosphere was relaxed and full of life. It was just great. Sitting there drinking red wine with the girls I found myself understanding exactly why the girls loved London so much.

The next day, I hit the pavement again and decided that I was going to walk along the Thames, exploring the Southbank of London. I found Parliament House and it’s gardens and walked right past as members of Parliament were being interrogated by the many journalists and photographers who had camped out waiting for there arrival that morning. I took in Westminster Abbey, The Big Ben and the London Eye. Walking along the Thames, I watched as the traffic on the river, ploughed away in its chaotic manner. I walked past the Tate Modern and came across Borough Market, just in time for Lunch. I can say without a doubt, that I loved this market more than any other I have experienced. It is a lively hub of activity. It is a food and produce market really where you can absorb so many flavours, and taste some of the worlds delicacies all under the same roof. It was packed, as people stood around trying to decide what on earth to satisfy their hunger with. You could have paella, cooked right in front of you, on the largest pan I had ever seen! Falafel wraps, your choice of roasted meat rolls, almost every type of fudge that you could think of, cheeses, olives, jams, chutneys, juices, ciders and I could go on and on, on and on! I couldn’t believe how much choice there was. Amazing!

I reluctantly left Borough Market and continued along the Thames, eventually climbing the London Tower Bridge and making my way over to a tube station and catching a train to Camden. I had been warned that I would love the Camden markets, so I headed to yet another distinctively different part of London and wondered through the many narrow alleyways of the market stalls. I loved it and instantly felt the vibe of Brunswick Street of Melbourne. Its punk, grunge feel took me straight back to my university days.

The next day, Jo, Sally and I headed back to Borough Market in the search of a good old Saturday morning brunch rendezvous. We tucked into a hot, roast pork roll, topped with sweet apple and cranberry sauce. Delicious! Next stop was Portobello Road Market, which consumed us for hours. I loved it and could have spent hours upon hours exploring all the stores and shops. I am sure I will find myself back there one day soon. That night Jo and I headed to Covent garden to meet Caitlin for dinner in a swanky, buzzing restaurant followed by an essential part of any London experience, the Theatre! The three of us sat and watched as contortionists, acrobatics, and magicians worked there magic in front of us. The show was called La Clique and it was more like a modern day circus show than an actual theatre show, but we all loved it and left feeling as if we had constantly been laughing and sitting on the edge of our seats. It was a real thrill.

On my last full day in London the girls and I all hit Harrods and explored its many levels. I was again overwhelmed by the amount of people, but no where near as much as I was overwhelmed by the grandeur of Harrods. Too much could be said about this world unto itself. So I won’t even start! We then wandered into Hyde park and warmed out hands on some mulled wine. The ice skating seemed appealing but a traditional Sunday roast seemed even more appealing at the time, so we all headed back to Clapham and tucked into a hearty roast dinner followed by a board game or two, to finish off my London adventure.

As I tucked into bed that night, I was too excited to sleep. With the next chapter of my journey about to start I could hardly contain the thoughts that were flying around in my mind. I was apprehensive and excited all in one. Yet again I was excited about the unknown I was about to delve into. I couldn’t wait for the sunrise and consequently didn’t get much sleep that night. I knew deep within me that the next five months of my life were somehow going to change me and ignite a passion within me that I hadn’t known was there. And as I waved and hugged Jo goodbye and made my way to Stanstead Airport to meet the people I would be spending the next five months of my life with, I had a deep sense that my new life was about to begin…..

London…….Part 4. A Wonderland of Everything and Anything

I love how diverse London is. Like Melbourne and many other multicultural cities it has so many different areas, which offer a different vibe, essence, flavour, its own people and inner hum, a different culture, class or status symbol. You feel like you can be transformed into anyone you want to be in each of its differing metropolises.

My senses were on constant overdrive. London is a city where you can get whatever your wildest dreams could think of. All you have to do is imagine it in your mind and you will find it. Your dream pair of shoes, the amazing dish you have been craving to eat, that perfect present that you haven’t been able to find anywhere. It is literally all here, you just have to know where to look.

London…..Part 3. The Land of Opportunity

London seems to be the kind of place where if you stand still for long enough, you can be approached by anyone trying to sell you something, sign you up for a research project or offer you jobs. I was standing outside Topshop waiting for Jo to arrive one afternoon when all of a sudden there was a guy standing in front of me, holding up a camera in front of my face. The first thing he asked me was if I had done any modelling before? “Umm, No!” Next question….., “Are you wearing contacts or are those blue eyes natural?” “Umm, they’re natural! Why?” “You should be a model!” and with that, he thrust a card into my hand and said to call him, and on he went, to find his next wannabe model. And just like that, a new opportunity on your door step. That’s London for you. I wonder how many people actually believe him and call the number!?

There is a buzz about London which seems to sing ‘SUCCESS’. It seems that everyone is trying to make a break, to climb the ladder of career status or turn there 5 digit bank balance into a 6 or 7 digit number overnight. The city simply never sleeps. There is always something to do, always someone to meet or somewhere to be. Everyone is in a hurray and following the tune of their own agenda. Everyone seems to be out for themselves, living life to succeed!

London…..Part 2. One great big Ant Farm!!

I hit the pavements of London the next day with my enthusiasm high and patience restored. I was ready to be consumed by the city and wanted to walk its streets for hours, exploring. The next day, the train system didn’t seem so scary and I made it perfectly to Victoria station and walked towards Buckingham Palace, arriving just in time to watch the Change of Guard, which is where I got my first taste of the kind of tourists I was going to be fighting with throughout my time in London. I vowed at that moment to try and avoid all tour groups and bus loads of tourists and go in search of the Londoner essence. So I kept on walking and made my way through the gardens, past the Ritz Hotel, along Pall Mall Way up to Trafalgar Square. I ducked into the National Museum just before a big down pour of rain was about to explode onto the Square. In my efforts to escape the rain, I wondered through the rooms, past the sunflowers of Van Gogh, The Venus and Mars of Botticelli, Rembrants’ self portrait, and as if I hadn’t seen enough in Florence, more renaissance art from Michelangelo, Titian, Bellini, Raphael and Leonardo Da Vinci.

Next I was off to Leicester Square, in search of theatre show tickets. But couldn’t decide between The Lion King, Les Miserables, and The Phantom of the Opera! Too many choices so I continued to walk on and found myself in China Town, where I devoured some great Sushi and explored some Asian supermarkets. Always a favourite of mine, I find them so fascinating! From there I seemed to wonder along some back streets getting quite lost in Soho, which finally led me to Oxford Street, which I quickly decided again to avoid, so I ducked back into the streets of Soho and found some amazing little narrow alleyways, with some quirky shops and amazing fabric stores. I was drawn back into the pretentious, artistic, designer feel of Soho. I loved the street cafes and boutique stores. It had a community feel about it that I liked. It reminded me of Greville street in Melbourne. I eventually landed up back down in The West End and made my way up to Picadilly Circus. The Christmas lights of Regent Street caught my attention, so I followed the canopy of fairy lights along the rows of shops. I ducked in and out of stores like The National Geographic, and the amazing children toy store, Hamesleys. I bought a T-shirt that I thought said it all, “Find your Freedom!” It was written on the front and I felt it surmised exactly my existence at the time, it had pictures of swallows flying all over it and I loved it! So it became mine. I still love that T-shirt. It reminds me to keep pushing myself to find the next adventure, to keep pursuing the next challenge and above all, it reminds me to never forget that I am free.

Literally, the very next challenge I was faced with, happened 5 minutes later when I was due to meet Jo and some other friends at 5:30 by the tube entrance at Oxford Circus. I can honestly say that this is the one and only time in my life where I have found myself feeling completely overwhelmed by the amount of people surrounding me. I swiftly felt the full power of what a stampede must be like. A human stampede of the business suit variety! This is one moment in my life I would have loved to have become a swallow and flown above it all and watched everyone marching and struggling along, fighting to reach their own individual destinations and freedoms from the masses.

I was trying to reach the North East side of the Oxford Circus intersection and as I walked east along Oxford street I was literally bombarded by a stampede of people all exiting the tube, heading in the opposite direction of me. I simply wanted to walk an extra 10 metres in order to reach the pedestrian crossing to cross the street. I struggled through the masses of people and found myself being pushed along with the barrage of people. I simply couldn’t escape its strength, so instead of fight it any longer, I simply turned and walked in the direction of the stampeding business suits!! I was completely overwhelmed by it. It took me about 10 minutes to finally make my way over to the North East side of Oxford Circus. I felt like I had become a very small insignificant Ant, within a huge Ant Farm. All day I had been completely overwhelmed by the amount of people in London. How could one place have such an enormous population?

London…..Part 1. Heaven in a London Taxi!!

As I boarded the train to London from Devon, I was both excited and apprehensive about what to expect from such a place as London. As many of us love the life within big cities, I am not one of them. And after my seven months in Tuscany and six weeks in Devon, I had well and truly become a country girl; living the simple life, with little stress and hardly any stimulus from the outside world. I was certainly in for a shock when I arrived into Paddington Station at 5:30pm on a Thursday afternoon.

I was staying with Jo, an Australian friend, whom had moved to London and was living in Clapham Junction. She had kindly given me directions on how to get to Clapham Junction station via the tube. So off I went thinking to myself that this cant be that hard to work out, at least everything is in English, how can this be any more difficult than catching trains in Italy or all over Europe. Ill just find a map work out how to get there. But it was!

Can someone please explain to me how on earth so many stations in London don’t have escalators or Lifts! I was desperately trying to carry my 2 suitcases around with me while trying to sort out how to buy tickets, which line I had to be on and which platform I had to find. I headed underground and found the tube system and with it of course a rabbit warren of halls all heading in the direction of too many platforms to choose from. Anyway, after fighting with my luggage along corridors and up and down sets of stairs, I finally made it onto a train which took me to Victoria Station, which is where Jo told me to get off.

On the train, I had stood next to a group of policemen, who were chatting about their superiors rather unprofessionally. On the other side of me, was a man reading a paper, close up to his face and I noticed that he kept glancing over his paper at the policemen and kind of sniggering. I thought it was a bit odd. He kept doing it and then he caught my eye and discreetly pulled out a wallet displaying a secret service badge to me. I still have no idea why he showed me his badge or why on earth a secret service agent would risk getting his badge out on the train in London during peak hour.

When I eventually got off the train I was swept up by the stream of people heading to, well I didn’t know where I was going, I was just going with the flow of people, I had no choice. Then all of a sudden, the secret service guy from the train came up behind me and took one of my bags off me and said he would help me up all the stairs. He didn’t ask where I was going or anything, but just walked next to me and helped. I thanked him and he went off straight away again.

I was disorientated and getting a little agitated by all the people and having no idea how to find my next train. I found a map and stood looking at it for a while trying to match names of places to the directions that Jo had given me, but I couldn’t see any of them, so I went to find another map and then the secret service guy appeared next to me again. This time he asked me where I wanted to go and where I was headed. So I told him Clapham Junction and he looked on the map and said, “Not this one” and pointed in the direction I should head. So I thanked him again and headed for the stairs and looked up to see the torrent of people streaming down the stairs from the street. I just couldn’t believe how many people there were. I stood at the bottom of the stairs waiting for a gap to open up or the stream of people to slow down, but it simply never did. By this point, I was getting so sick of carrying my luggage that I was considering risking dumping it for a while and coming back for it later when I had worked out where I needed to go. But I knew it was a huge risk so I persevered. I somehow got to the top of those stairs and found myself completely lost again. I couldn’t see anything that was making sense. Then the secret service guy appeared yet again. At this point I was beginning to think it was a little weird. He just kept popping up all over the place, finding me again and again to try and help me. He must have been watching me the whole time, following me around for some reason. He pointed down towards the end of the station and said to turn left.

At this point I had no idea whether or not I should trust him and was well and truly sick of fighting through all the people, so instead I headed for the daylight and found myself out on the street. I had decided to take refuge in the capabilities of a Taxi driver and promptly plonked myself into a London Taxi and told him “Clapham Junction Please” I sat back and thought to myself, what an ordeal! To this day I still have no idea what on earth the secret service guy was doing trying to help me or if he really was a secret service agent at all. Who knows, but I will never forget my first tube experience in London, that is for sure.

The Lost Chapters.....

Where do I begin to fill in all the missing chapters of the last 6 months? I guess as good a place as any is beautiful Devon, in the south of England.

As most of you know I left Tuscany in October last year and spent 7 weeks in the UK before I embarked on the most recent of my adventures, a ski season in the French Alps. I had originally planned to travel around the UK and make my way up to Scotland, but when I arrived in Devon and saw how beautiful it was, that idea quickly got thrown out the window. I also needed to stay put for a while, while I convinced the Brits that I should be allowed to have all the same rights as them, as I have dual citizenship with the UK and Australia. And I am happy to report that I did a fairly good job of convincing them, as I am now a fully fledged Brit, complete with UK Passport, National Insurance number, Bank Account and Medical stuff, which have all been handy indeed.

As my father is English, I have a strong family link with the UK, but for some reason, it is a place that I hadn’t thought too much about, in terms of what it would be like or what to expect from spending time there. Maybe I can contribute that to the fact that I had been living with an English family for 7 months in Tuscany and felt as if I knew England intimately due to the many conversations that were had. And because Australia is so linked with the UK maybe I didn’t expect it to be any different from Australia in terms of its culture and nature of people. So I arrived into Bristol airport without any expectations of what I might find and experience.

The first major difference I noticed immediately after landing in Bristol was that familiarity of being amongst English speaking people again. It was such a welcome change to walk back into a country which speaks your language. Everything feels and becomes infinitely easier somehow and that little bit of anxiety that you carry around with you all the time while you’re in a foreign speaking country quickly subsided with a little relief on my behalf. Although my Italian gets me by, it is by no means perfect, so it was so nice to be able to slip back into the ease of English again.

From the view of my aeroplane window, as I flew over the UK heading towards Bristol airport I had a birds eye view over its landscape and couldn’t believe how much the landscape looked just like a patchwork quilt. It seemed as if England was completely made up of small fields all divided by lovely stone or bush hedges. I was very confused, considering 60 million people live in England, I couldn’t work out where everyone lived!!! The amount of countryside and beautiful fields is overwhelming, as is how green and lush it is. There is every shade of green you could ever imagine. You can’t help but be immediately impressed by nature, which I was completely surprised by, as it was one of the things I hadn’t expected.

After arriving into Bristol, my destination was Barnstable in the North of Devon. I had been offered a place to stay with friends I had made at the Villa that Summer. I was so welcomed into their home and life that I immediately felt right at home which I am ever so grateful to them for. Sarah and I had quickly become friends after the few days that we had spent at the Villa and in Spain that summer. I was so looking forward to spending time with her and her family again. Unfortunately her Mum had just been diagnosed with Cancer, so my timely arrival also meant that I cold put my Naturopathic skills to good use again. Sarah’s mum, Chris and I spent a lot of time together and she became the perfect tour guide for me. Taking me on loads of day trips through Exmoor and Devon.

Of the little I was told about what to expect from my time in the UK, I had been told to expect beautiful coastlines, amazing fields and countryside but nothing could have prepared me for the beauty that I found in Devon. I felt completely at home there, I was so surprised to experience that feeling of familiarity, as if I had been there before. I felt completely comfortable and I found it easy to navigate around instantly. Maybe I can contribute that to my family heritage or perhaps a past life!!

Being in Devon during Autumn was just so spectacular. The Moors were a splendour of all colours and driving along the narrow laneways and country roads was an experience straight out of a fairytale scene, with the coloured leaves falling from the canopy of trees with the stream running along the side of the road as you drove along. Just amazing! I spent time travelling along the coastline of some of the best surf beaches the UK have to offer. Willacombe and Croid quickly became favourite destinations, as did Saunton. Willacombe reminded me of the seaside town, Lorne in Victoria, Australia. It had a great vibe and the surf was awesome!

While in the UK I also wanted to get a head start on learning how to ski, so I enrolled myself in for 3 dry ski slope lessons in Plymouth, South of Devon. My ski instructor was brilliant and I was pleased to find that I was apparently a natural! I seemed to pick it up very quickly, which gave me some confidence and put my mind at rest a little as my nerves were mounting at the thought at having to actually try it all for real on snow, and be able to ski host for guests within a few weeks. As long as I could stop, snow plough and turn I was happy for the time being!

While in Plymouth I stayed with Sarah’s sister Nikki and her partner Mike and their adorable dog, Max. Mike and I spent a day at one of his favourite beaches called Bantham, which was just beautiful, with some great surf also. I explored the city of Plymouth while finalising my National Insurance number and stocking up on Ski gear.

As the end of November approached I was becoming increasingly more excited about the ski season ahead. But before I could head out to France I wanted to go and explore London. So I sadly left Devon, with emotional goodbyes to all of my new and much beloved friends, and I headed towards the big smoke!

So i have become a "blogger!"

I have given into the world of online blogging and become a so called ‘blogger’! I was once scared of all this online social networking business, but all of a sudden I find myself embracing it whole heartedly. A blog has been described to me as a personal diary, a collaborative space, a place for your thoughts or memos to the world. For me, I prefer to think of it as more than all of those things and as more of a memoir. And to that tone I hope to withhold here on this page.

So where do I start? Where do I begin the huge task of trying to recapture some of the amazing adventures I have had. Do I go back to the start of this adventure, this amazing journey that I embarked on in March 2008? Or do I start from today and start afresh as if it all hadn’t been before? As some of you know, the emails which I composed of my time in Tuscany last summer were affectionately dubbed the ‘the Kimba Chronicles’ by a close friend of mine. But for some season I cant help but want to call this blog page “the Kimba Chronicles Part II” For it feels as if the Kimba Chronicles indeed needs a new chapter as I embark on my second year overseas and I find myself back in Tuscany for a second beautiful summer. But maybe I feel the need to move onto another chapter for more personal reasons than just time and location. For I know that the Kim sitting and writing this to you now, isn’t the same Kim that sat at the same computer last year and started the Kimba Chronicles.

My only dilemma is whether I add the previous Kimba chronicles that have been written and sent to inboxes all around the world should take presence here on this page. For some reason I feel that they should. As a traditionalist, I like to see where I have come from and to learn from what has gone and been before. If nothing else they tell the story of what has been before here in this amazing place that I call home, for these precious months of the year.

The seemingly endless task of trying to keep in contact with all of my friends and family whom I cant be near at the moment is sometimes overwhelming and almost impossible, and with so many friends dotted all over the world now, this blog page seems to make sense; an intimate way for me to keep all of you informed on what is happening in my life and on my day to day journey through this time in my life.

Being back in Tuscany, I seem to have rekindled my love for writing again. Now with the time and patience for it all to pour freely through my fingers onto the keyboard, I once again find myself wanting to write about my day to day happenings and the thoughts that pop into my head. And writing all of these down on this page seems to make my life here feel all the more real; having an audience to write for seems to validate it somehow. I have never been very good at keeping a personal journal; the task of writing into a diary always seemed a chore and the novelty quickly wore off. As life became more familiar and routine, I seemed to rely upon it less and less as a way of documenting my new life here in Tuscany.

So I hope that this page will continue to inspire me to write. But more than anything, I hope that this page can inspire a sense of adventure in all that read it. I hope you can all be inspired to go and find a new place to explore, to find new territory, embrace it and get to understand it intimately like I have been able to. Find the freedom and sense of adventure that comes with travelling and new experiences.

Enjoy…..