Six Days from Suwon

Magazine

2010-11-06T17:52:00.007Z

Got into an alternative fashion magazine for Halloween. Article was written by my lovely friend Cat about the Medusa makeup range, and my friend Lynsey was the makeup artist. Awesomeness. Need to put more time and effort into my photos - I've spent so much time working recently and need some photo time!

http://www.cutoutandkeep.net/snippets/issue21/medusas-make-up

The Old Man of Storr

2010-10-15T22:56:00.000+01:00

Perfect Reflections

2010-10-15T22:09:00.004+01:00

Glen and Loch Etive.

Glen Etive

2010-10-14T07:55:00.002+01:00

It takes 40 minutes to drive from the main road to the lochside - single-track road all the way and the odd fisherman hunched beside the river, white-washed cottages every couple of miles. Loch Etive is glassy as a mirror and fun to jump into in welly-boots ^^

Thames Festival

2010-10-03T12:57:00.004+01:00

The last of the great summer weather ruffled our hair and blew the fluffy clouds away over the distant pinnacles of East London.

The Thames Festival lined up along the edges of the great meandering river, with a dizzying quantity of stalls promoting the foods and cultures of an equally impressive number of different countries. Spanish paella, Polish cakes, Korean kimchi with a free corresponding cookery book (score!), masks from Eastern Europe and a dude dressed as something resembling the Baba Yaga were distributed amongst the crowd, along with an abundance of ice cream cones and Pimms.

Later, the sun died down and the closing fireworks were set off in myriad colours.

A few more reasons to love London.

CO+K

2010-10-01T17:46:00.002+01:00

http://us1.campaign-archive.com/?u=e0ee2d55937b0969e2e8fc5c7&id=c4d46988a1

My good friends Cat and Tom.

:)

Laughing at yourself

2010-09-12T14:16:00.007+01:00

… it’s a skill.

A couple of weeks ago, I woke up on the floor of my local doctor’s surgery after passing out cold whilst having blood taken early on a Monday morning. A nurse and a doctor were racing around the room in a flustered fashion, arranging my feet up on a chair and placing a pillow beneath my head whilst repeating to me over and over “You’re ok, you’re going to be ok, everything’s fine, don’t panic now!”

I was, of course, both perfectly calm and perfectly used to the ever-so-slightly humiliating fainting process. After all, in my time I’ve fallen off balconies and smashed my face on the corners of radiators; frankly, waking up devoid of injuries, in the recovery position and surrounded by trained professionals was a definite win in comparison. I looked back up at them with an ironic grin, and retorted: “I’m fine, thank you. In fact, I can’t think of a better way to spend a Monday morning other than lying down with a comfy pillow and my feet up.”

Similarly, I felt slightly abashed whilst upside down, two metres underwater at the deep end of my local swimming pool during an impromptu round of the “can you make funny-shaped air bubbles with your mouth and then catch them before they hit the surface” game, when a confused looking man passed overhead and scrutinised me judgingly with his begoggled eyes. Apparently, grown women are frowned upon when they pretend to be dolphins and play “catch the air bubbles” whilst swimming.

Embarassment is subjective. It depends on so many external factors - culture, environment, company; however it relies just as much on those inside of yourself, such as personality, sensitivity and experience. From the point of view of an optimist, there are therefore aspects of the emotion which are well within your control.

My granny always says – if you didn’t laugh you’d cry. I wholeheartedly agree with this doctrine; after all, it’s got her through a healthy 97 years. And I don’t know about you, but I much prefer a good giggle over an embarrassed blush.

Joy

2010-08-07T11:17:00.004+01:00

No matter how heavy the world gets, how suffocating or hopeless... it never ceases to be beautiful, intricate and impossible in it's workings, and blessed by it's very existence.

Too hot to Handel

2010-07-25T17:00:00.010+01:00

Classical music is not popular. We've all heard the reasons - outdated, boring, uncool.

That's the thing. "Classical" is as broad and generic a term as referring to "people". The intricacies, idiosyncrasies, variety and emotional depth is simply not encompassed by the term.

Fair enough, I completely understand why certain "classical" musical styles bore the tits off the general public. I mean, Mozart and Beethoven were composing in a time where trousers could only be referred to as "unmentionables", and table legs were covered up lest they remind some poor gentlemen of a real female extremity or his own apologetic erection.

The wooden, esoteric musings of the baroque and classical eras are understandably inaccessible to a modern audience. To a populace being spoon-fed lyrics like "Ooh, you's a sexy bitch!", why would you voluntarily put yourself through something as sterilely named as "String Quartet in G-Minor, K478 Rondo"?

BUT really, you've all been tricked! Because you DO actually like classical music (nay, love!), you just don't KNOW you do!

Film music (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pFS4zYWxzNA&feature=related, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vHAvjaHtlMA, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D8zlUUrFK-M) , the scores of TV shows (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aRYowiiAOhg), and other incidental music has evolved from our classical past. Baroque evolved into Classical, which in turn evolved into Romanticism, Impressionism and program music. Take a look at the sales of soundtracks and how many people turned up to the Doctor Who Proms last night at the Royal Albert Hall (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KgL2CZisFGc) and you'll see that people can and do relate to classical on a massive scale. Take a look at the footy coverage on a Sunday afternoon and how many English fans sung "Zadok the Priest" and "Rule Britannia" during the world cup as they wept into their vuvuzelas (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aaY6G-yX4YI&feature=related).

If you don't think you can relate to classical music then you don't know what it is. You relate to it everyday whether you notice or not; and it evokes the most visceral and intense emotional reactions. It's probably the most powerful and evocative musical genre of all.

If the sound of Davy Jones blasting out tunes from his church organ aboard The Flying Dutchman doesn't chill you to the bone (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FL1TGhQOcV4) or Elgar's Nimrod bring you to the verge of tears (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sUgoBb8m1eE) then, hell, your heart is hewn from the coldest sharpest flint.

And for anyone who doesn't think that classical music is sexy... haven't you heard how big Rachmaninov's hands were?!

Your hands would definitely have to be big to play these chords (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-qwJoFQ3qo&feature=related; see 2 min 25s). Imagine a gorgeous brunette playing this naked and then you'll understand how sexy classical piano can be.

Finally, a little giggle for you: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ifKKlhYF53w

Don't be put off by the uptight, abstinant Victorians! Whether you realise it or not, classical music is already an intrinsic part of your life - so why not experiment a little with it? ;)

♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪

Don't make me laugh bitterly...

2010-07-20T22:55:00.008+01:00

Humour is a bizarre thing.

For example, the ubsurdist-acrobatic-Harold-Pinter-parodying nude show I went to see on Sunday night. Billed as "sexy and very, very funny", I in fact cringed my way through the allocated two hours, quaffing toxic cocktails at half time and sinking despairingly into my seat as three men simultaneously simulated oral sex on the female cast members.

The peculiar thing is that people LAUGHED! A lot!

Similarly, when partaking of my Saturday night installment of You've Been Framed I've mused about exactly why we think an elderly man tripping over his pet dog and falling headfirst into a partially-frozen and scum-filled pond is FUNNY. I mean, he could have broken a hip.

But... it just kinda is.

Check this out:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-qhucVsq9CE

Please note the parents TRAUMATISING not one, but TWO of their offspring. And this has been watched by at least 450,000 people!! Upon showing this act of horrific child-abuse to a friend of mine, she laughed so hard she hyperventilated.

For more trauma and deprivation, please enjoy the following:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4u696R5GQEQ

:p

Sunny side up

2010-07-15T22:57:00.006+01:00

All this Vitamin D - apparently, it's rather good for you.

Although being Scottish is really rather cool (akin to being some mythical creature which everyone has heard of but few have actually set eyes on), there are disadvantages to being born in the dark and raised on deep-fried haddock.

Hurrah for the many physiological and mental benefits of extensive sun exposure!

All you need is...

2010-07-14T20:15:00.006+01:00

I love Trafalgar Square. My new favourite place to eat lunch in the sun or drop in on the odd national event.

Great city, great times and great friends.

2010-06-19T09:57:00.003+01:00

Wandering the big bad London streets...

Dean Village

2010-05-14T22:10:00.005+01:00

Jan - April 2009.

Not far from the centre of Edinburgh, tucked up all snug and out of sight underneath the Dean Bridge, is the picturesque little hamlet called Dean Village.

It's not really a village, since it's technically 2 minutes from the middle of a bustling international city. But it feels that way, wandering down Bells Brae to realise you can't hear anything other than the gurgling of the Water of Leith, the rush of water over the dykes and the quacking of ducks.

Atmospheric in winter and bursting with colour in the summer.

A Foggy Day on the Meadows

2010-05-11T21:08:00.004+01:00

The Meadows - Edinburgh, 2008.

Edinburgh is a great city for atmospheric photography.

Sitting on the edge of the Firth of Forth means that it's frequently inundated by a murky haar which floats in from the sea, resulting in some top-notch eerie photo opportunities.

You've Got the Music in You

2010-05-08T11:20:00.002+01:00

http://www.intellectualpornography.com/2009/07/one-oclock-daily-bobby-mcferrin-and-the-pentatonic-scale.html

Moving out to Londontown

2010-05-04T16:49:00.002+01:00

Finally!

A job in London!

And a flat! Also in London!

And new friends! Predictably, also in London!

Yey for living in London!

May Day

2010-05-01T10:58:00.001+01:00

Today is officially the first day of summer. It's ironically looking much more grey a dreary than yesterday, with forecasts of wind and frost over the bank holiday weekend. Bleh. Oh well, you've still gotta love the metaphorical significance.

Our ancestors did. They would light fires, dance excitedly, and beat drums to chase away the spirits of chaos and darkness which ruled their lives over the bitter winter months. In modern Scotland, these ancient rituals have been transformed into the Beltane Fire Festival held each year at the top of Calton Hill, in the centre of Edinburgh. It's a big draw for tourists nowadays, as the costumed and painted participants carry out their ancient rites on the same volcanic earth our ancestors did.
(Check out the dude getting burned in this photo, oucheeee. That's what happens when you choose to be a representative of Chaos)

The White Ladies and the Blue Men, the Red Men and the Torchbearers, the Horned God of Winter and the Green Man all make an appearance. But it's the White Lady who always steals the show. She is the Queen of Summer (Mother Earth) and she leads the procession around the hill, through the burning gates, and finally vanquishes the demons.

Then, they set a bunch of stuff on fire, and everyone gets trolleyed.

Goodbye winter, hello summer!

http://news.bbc.co.uk/local/edinburghandeastscotland/hi/people_and_places/arts_and_culture/newsid_8655000/8655823.stm

Cute Food

2010-04-27T22:33:00.000+01:00

http://myfoodlooksfunny.com/2010/04/21/funny-food-photos-cats-love-bento-boxes/

Way too cute to eat?

When I was 5 I got a chocolate duck for Easter but felt too guilty to eat it. Interestingly, I never had that issue with eating actual duck... or that whole roasted guinea pig I ate in Peru. Or that live octopus in Korea.

The irony.

Memory of the Day (25th April 2010)

2010-04-25T12:17:00.000+01:00

Nazca, Peru.

I travelled there shortly after the devastating earthquake which shook the region in August 2007 (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2007_Peru_earthquake), and although Nazca was relatively unscathed the infrastructure from the north was heavily disrupted.

As a result, the tourist industry in the area had almost ceased to exist and the touters and tour guides were beside themselves when a handful of tourists arrived.

Also took a flight over the Nazca lines (and paid a good amount more for it than I normally would have, but didn't mind) and visited some cool museums with lovely pieces of pottery and some scary looking mummified heads with their mouths sewn shut.

Twitter Power

2010-04-24T15:19:00.000+01:00

Twitter has the power. Market researchers have been using the rate at which tweets are produced to estimate cinema takings of newly released films, and have seemingly been getting some pretty accurate results.

I wonder whether or not the same process could be used to predict who's going to win the election?? Obviously Twitter is only going to reflect a certain demographic but at the same time, it could be a nice little cross-section of the UK population. To be honest, I'm pretty certain someone somewhere is already doing just that...

A similar idea in a website I heard about a few years back: http://www.hubdub.com/

User-generated content has the power!

The London Life

2010-04-24T15:10:00.000+01:00

... Here I come!

A whole new city to explore, enjoy and photograph. A lovely little flat in Queen's Park and an awesome new job to keep me busy!

Yey to life!

Brand Interaction... and silly movies

2010-04-16T17:48:00.001+01:00

http://www.uniqlo.jp/uniqlock/

You can have fun with brands, honest.

That's the thing about the digital realm - people go there with the intention of being entertained, be it online shopping or watching a crazy little viral movie with a catchy song or a dancing kitten. And as much as there is a business-orientated slant to them, in the end this stuff is being made with the primary desire to just... make people smile. Then buy stuff. BUT firstly, smile :) That's what brand experience is all about.

Uniqlo reminds me of shopping in Myeongdong in Seoul with my chingus.

♥! :)!

Memory of the Day (13 April 2010)

2010-04-13T20:24:00.000+01:00

Artist's commune in Berlin, Germany. Loads of cool graf and sculptures made out of old bits of scrap metal stuck together. Very cool!

Ah interuptz ur leezures to reports a hungrie

2010-04-11T21:51:00.000+01:00

Adult illiteracy - not a joke.

Kitteh lolspeak - awsum, akchooleh :D

I ♥ Doctor Who

2010-04-10T21:44:00.000+01:00

Anybody else out there spend their childhood choreographing a full-blown action sequence of gymnastic prowess involving various household implements to the melodious tones of the Doctor Who theme tune?

No? Oh.

My family loved The Doctor from a young age, even though the monsters he faced generally scared the pants off me and my siblings. Plus, I refused to believe that any actor other than Tom Baker was *really* The Doctor, and in fact proclaimed that the others were “just silly” or “too old to really be Dr Who” and that I was going to go play in the backroom and fight the marauding army of skeletons sent forth by the evil King and Queen of Timeland with my soft toys instead.

When the show returned to our screens 5 years ago, I’d spent a good decade without The Doctor and I admit I hadn’t lost sleep over it. The reruns and wobbly sets were a childhood memory and the videos in our cupboard a Sunday afternoon distraction.

But the new show! It was a genius combination of the exciting and the inane; cheesy, juvenile and daft but with an injection of serious sci-fi. There were times over the first 4 series that it crossed the line from nutty into cringe, especially when the scripts happened to have been written by a certain RT Davies, but most viewers seemed prepared to overlook those shortcomings in favour of the uncontrollable childish glee the show’s return to the screen brought them.

But most important are the principles that The Doctor brings to a new generation of children. He’s the ultimate kick-ass pacifist, who doesn’t want to fight but will in the defence of the innocent. He always gives his enemies the choice between redemption and destruction – he doesn’t fight with conventional weapons and rarely wields a gun; instead, he uses science and cunning to turn the weapons of the weeks villain against themselves. He betters each person he meets and inspires the meek to be brave. And best of all, he embodies a wide-eyed and deep-rooted wonder of the universe in which he lives, of the same ilk as that which permeates the hearts of travellers when they find themselves blissfully lost and surrounded by a beautiful foreign landscape for the very first time.

If you’re very lucky, The Doctor will also bring jelly babies.

Welcome to Series 5 then! What have you got for me this time?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UnPUF8an-XE

Cats are...

2010-04-07T22:27:00.000+01:00

... a liquid.

Memory of the day (March 28 2010)

2010-03-28T11:16:00.000+01:00

Catching sight of a pair of wild jaguars in Manu National Park, Peru.

I spotted them accidentally from the river boat we'd been travelling on. I'd gotten lazy on the looking out for wildlife front after two days in what was little more than a big canoe surrounded by caimans, and as a result was only using one half of my binoculars to drag my eyes along the edge of the Madre de Dios.

Suddenly, the viewfinder filled with spots. No jaguar shape or body part in particular, just an eyeful of jaguar spots and an instinctive certainty of having seen a wild beast. I squealed "OHMYGODIJUSTSAWAJAGUAR!"

The guide killed the engine and we drifted in a little. Where was it?? I KNEW I'd seen it, but now there seemed to be nothing but the sandy coloured dust and collections of driftwood by the water. Our guide giggled, and said "There's two."

There they were! The exact colour of the rainforest earth, sitting on the shore like an old couple on their veranda, and staring at us with an unimpressed air. Seems we had interrupted their afternoon date. The little girl jaguar eventually rolled her eyes, stretched, and wandered away into the forest with her boyfriend close behind.

They flicked their tails at us as they went, like a pair of grumpy kitties.

The Lost Generation

2010-03-26T22:01:00.001Z

You hear it everywhere you go nowadays; recession, recession recession. Economic apocalypse! Dismay, despair! The squandering of decades of growth! They are already calling us "The Lost Generation"; the bright-eyed, ambitious kids fresh from their graduation ceremonies, red cardboard tubes barely out their hands... and already on Jobseeker's Allowance with no hope of that glowing career they were promised in their impressionable youth. End of the road? Time to emigrate? Maybe.

There's a lot of anger out there among the expanding unemployed graduate population as competition rockets and opportunities remain beyond the reach of the average young person. Employers have a greater pool of candidates to choose from, and as a consequence the demand for higher levels of experience is growing. And just who has the required experience, you may ask? First - those who have been working for years and have recently lost their jobs. Perhaps not a huge percentage (unemployment stands at 7.8% in the UK at the moment, but considering it was 5.5% at the beginning of 2007 the increase has significantly affected the job market); second, those who are fortunate enough to be able to fund themselves through periods of internships and work experience where you can be expected to be paid very little, for months or even years.

A skewed and unjust trend. What about all the others, with perfectly good degrees and a desire to work but being of a more tender age or humble beginning? Aren't these the inequalities our Labour government strive to stamp out, not exacerabate?

But there is the third option of candidate. Oh yes! They are the wily underdogs of the job market, the cheeky charming coyotes who started from the dusty bottom of the employment ladder and defiantly hauled themselves up. This is the person I aspire to be - the one who made their own way, fought for their place in the world and proved their right to it. To quote some cheesy BritPop (courtesy of The Feeling) - "it's better that you come from nothing, than nothing comes from you." Just because the world isn't on your side, doesn't mean you can't change its mind.

I'm getting stuck in, folks, like a woolly mammoth in a tar pit. And I recommend my fellow "Lost" peers do the same - get your ninja faces on guys, because you're not lost; just temporarily misplaced down the back of a banker's couch.

Memory of the day (March 26 2010)

2010-03-26T11:40:00.000Z

Camping on Namhae Island in late summer 2009, with Matt and the Gwangju Crew.

Lots of soju, sunsets, and some naked meercats...

Memory of the day (March 25 2010)

2010-03-25T20:21:00.001Z

Yale class - Yonsei Junior English Camp, in the snowy mountains of Wonju Korea - Jan 2010.

Another New Start

2010-03-25T19:59:00.001Z

It's ironic that when you are really, truly enjoying your life, you don't reflect on it as much as when those nasty, frustrating or sad little things happen. So it's been that a contented little Scottish girl roaming the big wide world with a camera and the desire to be a decent writer did not, in actuality, write very much at all.

Suwon rocked my socks, for a very wonderful year. Now it's London's turn to rock 'em even more.

Many many more photos to come, and maybe even some decent stories...

One Blink, One Third

2009-08-19T14:30:00.000+01:00

Being thrown headfirst into a different culture was a cathartic and bizarre experience, with all the prettiness and shock and excitement and anxiety and shiny-shiny twinkling lights all squished up and rolled out together like one mighty long existential kimbap.

Before I’d blinked, a month had passed. Then two. Then four.

I realised quite suddenly one morning, waking up a little clammy and lethargic in the Korean heat, that I was really quite thrilled to be alive. I was thrilled to see the kindergartens tugging at my sleeve every morning, even on the days that Social Studies stole Bunny the teddy bear and hid him under a pile of books (and then told me that he’d died), or when I looked down to behold several 5 year old boys from my Cafeteria class lying on the floor giggling exhuberantly as they looked up my skirt.

I was thrilled to jump on a bus or train every few weekends and go on an adventure into an unknown district to converse with an as yet nameless stranger and take photos of mysterious fluid imaginings that would always take me by surprise and never be quite what I was expecting.

Swimming in the Pacific, staring astounded at a temple complex teetering on the edge of an ocean cliff, touching the hand of a hareubang and drinking too much soju under the bright lights of Seoul on a Saturday night… crying at the lady selling baby bunnies on the subway, and the time I saw a woman skin an eel alive and chuck the squirming dying pink body into a bowl of a hundred others just like it; chatting up boys on a night out in Itaewon, getting spanked by a naked lady halfway through a body scrub at the jjimjilbang, or the time I stripped off in the little hours of the morning in Busan and ran into the sea, only to have a giant wave soak me up to my shoulders then have to sit in a cab for 20 minutes dripping and covered in sand while we headed back to the hostel. All in all, some decent memories made.

And the best bit was knowing that I was ONLY four months through, with just as much to come and more… and being oh so very ecstatic about that.

Autumn next...

May.

2009-06-26T16:05:00.000+01:00

Soju on the pavilion. Not illegal to drink in public here. Score.

Seoul City is mobbed. They love their neon lights and blinky signs. Epileptic’s nightmare.

There’s a big yellow thing in the sky. I’m from the Tundra and therefore can’t be certain of its motives.

Kimchi is orgasmic.

The best part of Korean culture must be the jjimjilbang. The worse is selling bunnies in plastic bags on the street, and skinning fish alive.

Haejangguk will cure any hangover.

Only in Korea would you find a group of teenage boys sitting in the local park practicing their origami.

I am not mae-guk. I am yon-guk. Now quit staring.

Suwon

2009-06-24T15:22:00.000+01:00

When Paldalmun reared up in front of my taxi a week after landing on the Spring-kissed shores of leafy South Korea, I finally got that existential knuckle-sandwich I'd been needing for a very long time.

I got out. Stared. Pulled the perfect startled-bunny tourist face.

"Oh."

This was, of course, a fairly substantial understatement.

What I meant to say was "Holy shit... I'm in Asia!!"

20/20 Vision

2009-06-22T14:45:00.001+01:00

A soft blue light loitered around the edges of the river, shifting bleakly amongst the afternoon snow. The river trundled by, aloof, gargling a befuddled ditty to itself and sending a shiver through the long grey heron that sat perched on a nearby rock. The heron glared at me when I spied it – clearly, in no mood to be bothered. That was fine. Neither was I.

The beautiful city of Edinburgh had captured me in its frozen economic tendrils a few months earlier. Waitressing hours had petered out after the mediocre Christmas rush and the real threat of homelessness and permanent unemployment had settled ominously over my head. In lieu of anything practical to do, wandering the city with a second-hand camera and a miserable countenance was always an option. Pushing against the snow flurries, putting my welly boots through the skin of ice that covered every puddle on the way – it wasn’t long before I received only radio silence from my toes but hell, you’d stop appreciating that soft feather duvet of yours or the wonders of hot water coming straight out the tap if you didn’t, on the odd occasion, set out to make yourself thoroughly uncomfortable.

St Bernard’s Well reared up on my left – a stunning piece of Victorian neo-classical architecture, tottering on the edge of the Water of Leith just 5 minutes from my tiny flat in Dean Village. Edinburgh never ceased to amaze me. But in that moment, I felt a very real stab of resentment towards my own country for putting me in this horrible and unfair position, and I really hated being made to feel like that.

I was huddled beneath my mosquito net deep in the Amazon rainforest, terrified at the night-time grumbles of the jungle erupting around the feeble wooden hut, the giant insects crawling all over the floor and up the walls and the possibility of hungry jaguars prowling outside. The guide had told us that the camp keeper was eaten by jaguars two months before we arrived. Talk about making yourself uncomfortable, Blackwood. Will this do?

Edinburgh was my home and my true love. But over a year and a half spent there after graduating, and I had nothing to show for it. I had become decidedly uncomfortable in an entirely different way - uncomfortable with sitting still, waiting on the economy to get a bit better on the off-chance that I could nip in and get myself a mediocre office temp job for less than 15k a year. No. That’s not what I spent 4 years at university to achieve. Life is just too short.

Nobody is too privileged to be eaten by jaguars. The last thing I intended to do was spend the next year unemployed or waitressing while the job market continued to vomit out the half-digested remnants of the last 10 years of corporate malpractice.

It was DEFINITELY time to leave.

Arrival.

2009-06-21T04:05:00.000+01:00

Dear Louise,

I picked this card for 2 reasons: firstly, it reminded me of the day in Dysart when you took such beautiful pictures and I just sat and thought. Secondly, I thought it would be nice to have a little piece of home stuck on your wall or fridge to look at when you get homesick. I remember when I craved home and how comforted I felt when I looked at pictures. I hope this card brings you the same comfort when you need it.

I am going to miss you so much. You have been so instrumental in welcoming me to Scotland, Edinburgh and into the Blackwood family. Christmas time won’t be the same without you. I am SO proud of you for taking this chance and you can trust me; it will change your life forever. Here I impart 3 pieces of advice:

Don’t give the time of day to random boys – S. Korean or otherwise. Always listen to your gut.
Try everything and accept every invitation (except when it contravenes with piece of advice no. 1)
Enjoy every day – savour the sweet moments and learn from the shite ones.

Call/email/write anytime. Big hugs and kisses. Your (very near) future sister-in-law,

Kaki xoxo

Just below, my brother had scrawled a picture of a cat saying “Rawr” along with the following:

Be safe and make the most of it, because when you get back you will have to get a real job! Love Dave.

I laughed a little into my fourth glass of orange juice. The Glaswegian sitting beside me snorted in his sleep.

Says it all really.

I closed the shutter against the cloud-sprinkled Himalayas, and went back to sleep.