#TBT | Five Inches of New York Meat

Throwback to when I was 16 and still a big time carnivore. Excerpt from my mandatory report on the DHS American Exchange Programme experience.  



Certainly the largest sandwich I have ever eaten, or should I say conquered as yes, I really did eat all of it and yes, I am proud of myself. Despite almost puking and not being able to move for several hours afterwards, I think it was worth it.

It was our first night in the city, and literally everything I saw, ate and did was making me squeal with disbelief and excitement. I mean, everything was just so...so American. XXL and supersized.

This sandwich was the first sandwich I ate in NYC and by the time it arrived I was at the stage of hunger where your mouth starts watering constantly and your stomach begins to ache. I was basically starving to death whilst surrounded everywhere by the smells and sounds of people eating delicious, enormous sandwiches.

We'd gone to the Carnegie Deli, which I soon learnt Americans pronounce wrong. Guys, Andrew Carnegie came from the same town as me, I am right, don't even bother screwing up your face at me, I know we're in your country but I visited the house he grew up in when I was nine, so there.

The deli is a kitschy little place, every inch of available wall covered with framed photographs of celebrities and tables squidged together so closely it feels like one giant dinner party, which I personally found adorable but anyone who gets claustrophobic might not feel the same way.

Disclaimer: for the full dining experience, you probably shouldn't eat anything for approximately three days before your visit, and wear stretchy pants.

#TBT | The Night I Left Egypt, For Good

*This is an excerpt from my diary just before I left Egypt for the last time. The six months that I spent living in Dahab on the Red Sea coast, working in a tiny little hotel, was one of the happiest times of my grown up life. Much later, after several sad goodbyes, a few naps, one enormous packing session and a good old scrub up of my soon to be ex-bedroom, I left Alf Leila Boutique Hotel for good, in the middle of the night. Over 36 hours later (after near misses with wandering camels and actually missing a connecting flight, a whole accidental day spent exploring the streets of Istanbul on two hours sleep and eating so much Turkish delight that I could've puked) I was back in my hometown.

A Mini Road Trip And A Night In The Forest

Last week my friend and I decided to go on a mini trip. It wasn't the sort of spontaneity that drives a person to take risks, or to do something crazy or out of character. But it was unorganised and unexpected and for someone who does not do spontaneity (aka me) it was nothing short of a miracle that just three days after a discussion about camping, a quick trip to Argos to buy a tent and a detour in the pet store next to Argos to squeal at hamsters and we were set. Off West we went in my little yellow car to camp for the night in the Trossachs National Park.

By some sort of rookie road trip magic we didn't get lost and only had to use google maps for about twenty minutes when things got confusing in Stirling. There was a minor moment of panic caused by a complacent pheasant, which caused both myself and Lauren to scream and duck simultaneously, as if our positions inside the car had any correlation to the glass screen on the outside. The silly bird flew so close that I briefly thought I'd have to window wipe it's dead body off the glass.