Monday, 1 July 2013

Anew. A New. Ah Knew. Atichoo.

Friday

Last day as a 'Client Relations Manager' for a boutique Law firm, Manchester. 
Parting gifts; Aspinal of London iPad case - swishy, Jo Malone (Pommey Noir - yum) and various gubbins one would associate with my new career choice. The departure libations came quick, fast and packed a punch. Venturing to my current watering hole of choice, Grinch, I was treated to gin grins, bubbly beguilement & general drink delights. I almost shed a tear.

Saturday

Started the day wondering why, so often, I insist on drinking on an empty stomach. Ignoring such familiar woe, I bopped to Sounds of the Sixties instead. Bloody marvellous. 
Sitting, standing and reclining was the order of the day. Beverage here, snooze there. Fixing a Mexican feast early evening, male and I watched Almost Famous - cracking flick. Indie enough to satisfy the most ardent of anti-Hollywood mainstream, but not entirely out of the realms of relatable. One criticism - Kate Hudson plays a 16 year old. Right.

Sunday

Mexican regrets.
Power walk remedy.
Hummus heave-hoe. That's the way (ah ha, ah ha) I like it (ah ha, ah ha).

Visited The Lowry exhibition space to see 'Unseen Lowry' and ''My Generation' - perhaps not logically
placed together - but that's by the by.

Wandered down to Media City - specifically The Dock Grill where we played Jenga, had a burger, can of Ting & listened to the Werneth Concert Band.

Attempted to watch Flakes. Claimed to have remained awake throughout (lies) & now cannot comment on the film - if but to say, both films featured Zoey Dechanel - flipping chameleon that one. 

Monday

New career - Teaching Assistant. TA. Not Territorial Army. Partial similarities. 

Wednesday, 26 June 2013

Wah ye.

Sometimes you get a mental block.

From time to time you deem yourself a little unworthy.

Occasionally you just feel stagnant.

1. I wear pop-socks
2. I brush my teeth on the toilet
3. I have an irrational fear of lisps

Phew.

Rather than look back in a nostalgia, pedal-stooling, regrettable haze. Rather than think the grass is always greener and things will 'happen' because I deserve them to. Rather than all of the former, I've decided to live in my own reality. Now.

I quit my job.

I'm going to learn Makaton.


Saturday, 9 March 2013

Marrakech, review.

I went to Africa darling. Africa. Bloody marvelous.

I wrote a review on Trip Advisor. They didn't pay me, honestly.


Aesthetically.

The site captured our vision of a luxury 5-star resort whilst retaining a solid heritage and Moroccan accent. To use the word magnificent would not be an overstatement.

Service/Staff.

From the moment of arrival, to the moment of departure we found the staff to be more than accommodating. I would urge you to disregard comments that Brits were/are ostracised due to it being a predominantly French resort, this is not the case and to be frank, this is a blinkered and ignorant view. The staff were courteous, altruistic and genuinely went out of their way to be of help – from the cleaning team to security – I couldn't find fault.

The variety of activities/services on offer was astounding. From the choice of 3 pools to going to the on site club after hours – Kenzi Club has the whole package; tennis, dance classes, archery, football and cookery to name but a few. The 'Animation Team' were superb in this respect – they planned optional activities from 10am – 10pm. A stalwart group with unyielding energy and passion for what they did.
There were also a most useful, free, shuttle bus to Medina Square (10 minute journey), which we used regularly.

Facilities.

To attempt to describe the layout of the site would do it an injustice. Whether you wished to indulge in sport or relax on the plethora of lounging options the options are a-plenty. I personally indulged in using the spa. Comparative to the UK, the treatment (Hamman Massage) surpassed I have had previously. Charging a very reasonable fee, I felt rejuvenated, reenergised and perfectly tranquil – smashing.

Food.

My friend and I had heard horror stories of all inclusive food. Kenzi Club quashed these; breakfast, lunch, mid-afternoon snacks and dinner saw variety, impressive presentation and something for everyone. As a somewhat fussy, yet inquisitive, eater I found my taste buds excited but also enjoyed the option of plainer food.

We did not sample the Moroccan set menu available in the second restaurant, but by all accounts it was descent.

Outside the resort.

There were many planned excursions available of which we id a short tour of the gardens and palaces. Though useful, it could be done without a guide. Note – do not go on a tour of the Souks, total scam.
As two 24-year-old girls alone, we were rather intimidated by the Souks/Square – this was expected due to our being in a predominantly male orientated, impoverished, Muslim area. This is not a slur on the experience or place, merely and observation. Once we had escorts, in the form of two fellow holiday-makers (male), we felt much more confident and thoroughly enjoyed shopping in, and indeed getting lost in, the warren-like Souks. The traders are persistent and rather cheeky (bordering on rude), but confidence is key and eye-contact is not recommended.

We ended up going to night clubs (555 & Pascha), having henna tattoos and trying unusual local delicacies – the orange juice is out of this world.

Summary.

I would regard myself as well travelled and I have stayed in a variety of hotels – ranging from 1*-6*, Kenzi Club was simply superb. I could gush further about my experience, littering my description with superlatives but in summary I would recommend Kenzi Club entirely – I would 100% visit again. We had an absolute blast.

Saturday, 5 January 2013

Arid.

I'm 'doing' dry January. Cue eye-rolling. 

As I awake, I won't say fresh as a daisy, I realise, with such clarity, that I truly am my mothers child, and she hers. My first thought? A hybrid of apprehension of the day ahead and the unmistakable craving for tea. When I say tea, I do not mean green tea, oh no hipsters I can't drink earth, not matter how many oxymorons are in there.*

I have turned into an Irish housewife. Fantastic. 

Still, a brew is truly polychronic. All I need now is a teasmaid. 

Women are like tea bags.They do not know how strong they are until they get into hot water. - Eleanor Roosevelt


As long as it is hot, wet and goes down the right way, its fine with me. - Sarah Fergerson
If you are cold, tea will warm you. If you are too heated, it will cool you. If you are depressed, it will cheer you. If you are excited, it will calm you. - William Gladstone


* amusing no