But recently I read Chris Yates’ Nightwalk, and his tales of moonlit rambles inspired me to try and reclaim my winter nights. He describes – beautifully – this secret world that comes alive in the undisturbed dark. If you sit quietly in the woods when everyone else is tucked up in bed you’ll glimpse it – the badger going about its business, the owl passing overhead, the cold stare of a hare. As I turned the last page, I decided it was time to drag myself away from the hearth, ignore the stab of primeval fear and enter the night.

A cool breeze swished through the leaves. The stars showered and pulsed in the velvet dome of a sky, and to the west the last of the twilight slipped behind the hills. Ahead of me the lane was a pitch-black tunnel. Then almost imperceptibly, things began to take shape and reveal themselves – shadows and traces and suggestions of forms I recognised. I walked slowly, gingerly, towards the woods, the only sound the steady flop flop of my wellies.

In among the trees the darkness closed in, becoming deeper and denser. I found my way through to a clearing and stood still. The ancient oaks crouched in a circle around me. Timber creaked, something shuffled its way through the undergrowth, and, far away, the waves lapped the shore. Each noise was magnified by the silence and my sharpened senses.

I heard the snap of a branch on the hill just above me. It was most likely a deer. Still, my heart raced at the prospect of a face-to-face encounter with a beast out here in the dead of night. I was beginning to lose my nerve.  Just as I left the edge of the woods and began to cross the field, I heard a horrifying screech from the trees. The sound strangled and then swept out over the loch. I hurried home.

Go to any big city – Philly, New York, LA, even Minneapolis – and wander the streets or descend into the subway labyrinth and you’ll find musicians jamming out with their saxophones, guitars, and trumpets. They play covers and originals. They open their instrument cases, exposing the dull, red, velvet interiors, hoping passersby toss in a few coins or dollars. The music is good; the musicians are experienced and you find yourself tapping your feet to their beat.

This night was different. Walking down Nicollet, we passed a middle-aged man who pressed a trumpet to his lips. He peered down from under the brim of his fedora and played the notes in the book that sat on his shiny, metal stand. If I could have seen the title of the book it probably would have read Trumpet for Beginners or Playing Trumpet: Lesson One.

He played a single note, his forefinger firmly holding down the first valve. The tone skipped and chirped. His notes were sometimes loud and sometimes soft. Sometimes elongated and sometimes staccato.

At first I laughed at the simplicity, but quickly I recognized and appreciated the courage – guts – it took for this man to learn trumpet, not at home or in a class, but on the street for all to hear. His playing was simple, amateur, and heartfelt. I don’t know his story. He may have been hungry. He may have been homeless. He may have gotten kicked out of his house for learning the trumpet. He was brave. He was passionate. Maybe the next time I see him his case will be filled so much that he won’t be able to close it. Maybe it will be so full that he’ll have to carry the case in his right hand and the trumpet in his left hand. Maybe.

It has sort of become a tradition for us to go for a long night walk whenever we meet up these days, and last night was no different!

We stopped by Sainsbury’s to pick up some water, snacks and a bottle of baileys to get merry on, and we set off down the canal toward our final destination of Avoncliff 8 miles away.

It ended up being a lovely walk. We chatted about all manner of things such as what we’d both been up to for the last month, friends, relationships, politics, animals, and many more. And on the way we saw crazy ducks, glow worms, an awesome moonscape and a fog that seemed to merge into the sky like some crazy curtain across the valley.

We sat, chatted and drank for an hour once we’d gotten to Avoncliff after 3 and a half hours walking (it was about 11pm when we got there) and then head home again with my legs suitably knackered. It was 3am by the time we got back, and we both went straight to sleep.

Here are some ducks we came across:

The next morning and I was woken with a cup of tea at about 10am (I wasn’t woken up with the tea being used as a tool, it was just kindly prepared for me) and after freshening up and getting ready, a humungous task lay ahead.

Tim being the wonderful best friend that he is, had to get me and Jodi a wedding present like no other. It had to be unique and something that we’d have never expecting.

He came up absolute trumps when, the day after the wedding, we went around his for tea only to be presented with…..

A GIANT FUCKING MARLINS HEAD!

The thing stands up 4ft from the floor when laid with the beak poking into the air.

It’s awesome and has been named “Bev”.

The thing is so large that there was no way I was going to be able to get it home with Jodi in the car as well, so we had to leave it with him until a day when the weather was good and Jodi wasn’t with me.

Such a day was today as the weather was wonderful and Jodi was at home.

So Bev was loaded into the car in the passenger seat like so:

And off we went, attempting to avoid as many major roads as possible. The looks I got ranged from people laughing at it, to double takers to just plain bewilderment.

It wasn’t exactly inconspicuous…

Anyway, despite the difficulties of transporting such a beast, I did get Bev home and she’s now sat on a windowsill next to our real fish tank housing Ned the goldfish until we can find a better suited location for Bev.

Ned, meet Bev:

So a pretty interesting evening and early part of the day then!

Hopefully we’ll get Bev mounted somewhere, maybe above the toilet as the worlds most inconvenient toilet roll dispenser or something.

So that was my crazy day! A bit different I’m sure you’ll agree.

As a final note for this post, any guys that are reading this that have partners, get your other half reading 50 Shades of Grey. Just do it, don’t even question it. Seriously.

And in the spirit of that note, instead of a picture to end the post, here’s one of my favourite videos:

Night!

How much is that Scottie in the Window?

Scottie in the window

© Elizabeth O’Donnell

Adios amigos until next time….

BAYL…

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It’s been so long I didn’t update any news right. So much to share, so much happening and I don’t know where to start. I had promises a lot, I knew but I don’t have much time to write it all over here. Well, I did mention that I went to a camp last post aren’t I? I willing to share a bit of it, how does it goes and perhaps what is going on during the camp. I did enjoy every moment there and I didn’t misses any single activities carries by the organiser. So far the element that they try to blend in every task is obvious. It teaches me a lot, to show loves towards nation, my nationality, race, my Faith, my family, and most importantly to love myself.

We play a lot. The first day we arrived at night. Terenggun, Lipis Pahang welcomed us with its cool, raining night. It’s supposed to be breathtaking but I could not enjoy it much because I have to calm myself (I desperately need to go to WC). I could not bear any longer and I’m afraid I passed there. Luckily I don’t. Haha..

Well, I can’t remember exactly what we had done the next day but what makes it more fun are we doing night-walking that night! And what surprised are on halfway we got to walked on our own with guidance from the rope band and lights they placed all the way to the end. It is very tricky and adventurous. I had holes in my hand due to the thorns I gripped onto and I had scratches on my back (buttock) haha.. It’s extremely funny to remember.

And what I remember the most are we played paint-ball!! Seriously it’s totally fun and adventurous, tricky, not forgetting stunning. The war game is quite a craze to crave for because I do really loves adventurous activity. We played like a real war, trying to save our mates, and it’s quite a happening. With the bomb sounds, shots from various angles, it’s really looks like a war. I still remember what our tour guides told us; ‘shoot ‘em till the last breathe’. We did. And the verdict, our enemies are having trouble with the bruises we caused. It almost a week now but the marks remains.. We called it as ‘affection’ from us.

Saying about affection, what caused us to bond together are we shared foods in the same plate, same foods. We cooked and we ate together as one. Everything we do, we must do it as one. One hurts, everyone feels the pain. We lived for six days as a family, treat everyone likewise. No boundaries.

So much to tell but I’m quite tire now. It’s the first week of the semester and of course, it’s a busy week through all the semester. I gotta go now, I’ll try to find times to write soon, ’cause I believe this semester might be tough for me. So gotta to plan earlier. Better late than never, ever heard? Haha..

Oh, but before I leave, there is something I need to confess and will be my next post Insha Allah.. Regarding my new 2012 goal. There might be some changes and I need to fix certain things about myself and I really hope it work and suit me very well. I need an adjustment to make before I reach 21 next year. With new, refreshing year to begin I wish Allah grant me my wishes. I won’t change must but it might be useful for me and for everyone around me too..

so, till meet again. xoxo.

Assalamualaikum.. <3<3<3

P/s : Actually I try to post a few pictures but I had none with me right now, and some pictures of insect that I allergic to, e.g. leeches (just to take a peak freaking me to tremble) and just to think of it makes me vomit. Ugh!*sick*

Hungerford Bridge, Embankment

Tonight I arranged to meet my friend Robin on a boat in Vauxhall. I was in Covent Garden and had some time so I decided to walk. First I walked down the Strand to Trafalgar Square. I enjoy taking the time to be a tourist in my city sometimes. Looking at London with the awe it deserves.

Westminster

I strolled on down to the embankment and over the Hungerford Bridge. Just happening to glance over my shoulder I noticed the sky behind me.

Over the other side I continued along the embankment towards the London Eye. I love the river. This time of year the sunsets are wonderful, especially when it’s been a gloomy day.

 

The Wheel and Westminster

Big Ben in the distance and the brightly lit wheel offer a marvellous juxtaposition of old and new.

The cheeky wheel peeks through the crowds

Cutting away from the river I came across a large crowd of people queuing to get into a silent disco. The wheel loomed magnificently overhead.

The Hs of P

I crossed over Westminster Bridge Road and found myself once again on the embankment walking West.

Everywhere you turn in this city is a photo opportunity. I know I have had this same thought about Venice, Barcelona, Paris – but here I am reminded that London is equally majestic.

I rather liked this sign I saw on a dustbin as I approached Lambeth bridge. Crossing over the main road I made it to the boat, right on 7pm. I enjoy arriving places on the dot. It is a delicate balance. It feels both like you are sliding into place, and arriving with a bang.

Robin was on good form. We drank and smoked and talked about all sorts of stuff, it was delightful.

Then we got the bus together and parted company at Clapham Common.

Goodnight, sweet London

“Taking risky walks in the dark…”

I’m glad I’m not the only one who does it.

Risky walks in the dark were my favourite adventures of my mentalist twenties. Before then it was drug taking and other things, and fair enough, I did a lot of boozing and a bit of drugs too in my twenties, but night walking was my fave. It was the acceptable risk that no one knew about.

When I was 22 it was London Fields and Hackney streets. I lived on the corner of London Fields and at the time was writing a music fanzine which meant I was always out late, getting pissed, reviewing gigs. My boyfriend at the time was pretty much chronically depressed, aka, all the fucking time, and deep, so I often was out alone. The nights would go how nights out alone always go. They start nervously, scared, paranoid. A couple of drinks in and I am fearless. I’d end up swooping on a group of people and talk to them until I was bored and lonely, felt there was no one in my world, not a person I was connected to. I’d walk off mid sentence and out of the venue, being pulled by the familiar lead of no-control, it pulls me from the chest and wherever it takes me I follow. Through the streets and dangers of alleyways and dark corners. Always to London Fields. I’d walk the long way round to the opposit corner of where I should be.

The mist was a bonus. Nothing as spooky in London as low mist. Everything is in the dark, or a shadow. And I’d set off from one corner, electric all over my body, knowing the middle was the worst place to be, and my nostrils would be flared and my eyes would be wide, wide, wide. And I’d get that feeling, the one that hits like a hammer in your chest when you hear footsteps, closer, and closer, and then they pass by you, and nothing. Just a person. You are not going to be raped. You are not going to die. And then the realisation, the same realisation, but in a different way. Not relief. Relief came first, now it is disappointment*.

Further favourite night walk haunts were the fabulously freakish Holloway Road (top to bottom, oh yes, what delights), Hampstead Heath and my ultimate: Grandma’s alleyway. My grandma lives in a little village out of London and has lived there for most of her life. She took me out walking when I was little and we’d always take the alleyway through the allotments, stream and playing field. It goes on for about half a mile. Dead narrow, cagey and chicken wirey in places, open allotments and playing fields in others. It has a little stream, it’s a brook really, with a rickety bridge. None of the lights work. It is fearsome, fairy tale and frightening. Grimm, not Blyton. Sometimes I’d take the dogs, if I was feeling aggressive, other times I’d walk it alone and hope that I wouldn’t come out of the end alive.

The same drill applied but this alleyway allowed for more theatrics. For instance you’d step in to the alleyway, like Alice down the rabbit hole, and once you were in, that was that, you could only go forward, never back, and if you look back be fine prepared to know every step forwards thereafter you will only think of axewounds and mallets in the back of your head. And so on you go, sometimes with the dogs, sometimes without. Without the dogs I felt less scared, I felt smaller, nothing in the world. A floating head, a floating neuron, a nothing.

My old therapist was quite obsessed with these night walks. What did they mean to me. I never really knew how to reply. I wanted to get hurt in the same way that I used to take ODs but I didn’t want to die of an overdose. The times I wanted to die I would take a fuck load of recreational drugs and booze and just see if I woke up the next morning, if I even went to sleep. Whatever. So the night walks for me were a challenge. To see if I was brave enough or not. To face up to fear and to provoke it. To find violence and to find something. Later PM (psychologist) took a better stab at what she thought these walks meant to me. The constant need for excitement and stimulation, no matter how reckless or dangerous.

*I don’t mean to cause offence to anyone who has had horrible things happen to them, or their friends or family. This is just me trying to explain how I felt and feel at certain times.

seat to feet without the shackles pulse to pulse refracted space
lose yourself in surf and drifts illumined breath in every face

find yourself wandering the bleak city, frozen to the bone, to come up under the eye of the world … nomads nurturing the home fires beneath

and for the first time the nightscape bat wings come to light

can almost hear them flap taking flight across birrungmarr

there is a haunting beauty to this place visible to ghosts that walk the night

Our particular interest this year is “Modelling”. Modelling is so critical yet not many NLPers seem to actively “Model”. NLPers who do model often are on their own in their endeavour and when they need assistance, experienced Modellers are few and far in between. This year we will organise special sessions for NLP Practitioners to practice Modelling. For members who are interested in running special modelling projects we are interested to hear from you and work with you outside of the NLP Café Brisbane setting too.

Another interest for us this year is the different ways to expand our sensory experiences, such as the Night Walking will provide.
The open coaching session with the public was a great hit last year and we will continue the session this year.

We will be adding cross-marketed events such as Jonathan Altfeld in April (scroll to April) and other great trainers as their events come up.

Be sure to watch for other schedules during the year as the training and NLP Cafe’s grows…

NLP Café’s in Queensland:

NLPCaféSunshineCoast.com.au

NLPCaféGoldCoast.com.au

NLPCaféBrisbane.com.au

Our particular interest this year is “Modelling”. Modelling is so critical yet not many NLPers seem to actively “Model”. NLPers who do model often are on their own in their endeavour and when they need assistance, experienced Modellers are few and far in between. This year we will organise special sessions for NLP Practitioners to practice Modelling. For members who are interested in running special modelling projects we are interested to hear from you and work with you outside of the NLP Café Brisbane setting too.

Another interest for us this year is the different ways to expand our sensory experiences, such as the Night Walking will provide.
The open coaching session with the public was a great hit last year and we will continue the session this year.

We will be adding cross-marketed events such as Jonathan Altfeld in April (scroll to April) and other great trainers as their events come up.

Be sure to watch for other schedules during the year as the training and NLP Cafe’s grows…

NLP Café’s in Queensland:

NLPCaféGoldCoast.com.au

NLPCaféSunshineCoast.com.au

NLPCaféBrisbane.com.au

The second part is on a good solid small road, with houses and it's a nightmare. The house lighting is all too bright (one in particular is lit up like a Christmas tree, which means that I'm dazzled, and can't see past it to see where my feet are going…) and at the time of night I was out, it's full of dog walkers with dogs in varying states of control. Never mind, it's the short bit.

When I come down the last bit of hill towards the house I can see Handsome backlit through the kitchen windows, cooking my dinner.

Ahhhh – It was good to do this unexpected trip. Just walking around in the night around London and talking to this girl who although young has travelled a lot. It was also good to see London at night, with less people (albeit more drunken people ) and see area which I haven’t been to, such as Soho. We walked through Hyde Park, down Picadilly Circus, into Leceister Square…By now Janina was hungry, so we stopped at Wagamama for something to eat. As we entered the restuarant, the manager told us: ‘We are closing in 15minutes…Why?…Emmm – It is late…What time is it? Midnight!’ Oh gosh! We had already been walking for more than 1.5hrs. Well, he said we could order something if we wanted (and was very nice about it), so I ordered some duck things, and she ordered a curry noodle soup. We had it down in around 15 minutes, and weren’t the last to leave (though only by a few seconds/minutes ). From there we walked on to Soho and Oxford Street, where we caught the N10 night bus to take us home. We arrived home after 1pm…after around 3hrs on the way.

See for yourself the way we walked: blue is walking; red is the bus…