Sometimes, this place kicks my arse. Just when I think I am 'learning China' - much like Hamish & Andy "learned" India in lead up to Comm Games - something happens to make me realize that not only am I still crawling in terms of understanding this place, I still have a long way to go before I understand myself.
I am a person who is pretty accepting of where my weight/body shape/size is. Sure, I could be thinner, lighter, tighter, flatter in parts but ultimately, I'm okay with who I am and my 5'6' size 8 frame. I made peace with my body a few years ago - around 30 - and promised to stop trying to wear current fashions if they didn't suit me, and stop beating myself up about the things I can't change (height, shape etc).
Over the weekend, I was in Shenzhen for a work function and so decided to spend Sunday AM shopping, before I returned 'home' to Guangzhou. There was a mall a short walk from my hotel, and with dodgy weather forecast, I decided this was my best shopping option. Central Walk Mall had lots of stores, including a very disappointing Zara and uninspiring Esprit store. The local designer stores were full of gorgeous things, but it wasn't long before I realised, they weren't for moi. The pants were designed to accentuate the tiny hips and posteriors of the local ladies, or to create the illusion of ass where there is none. There is no question about my ass, so in the slim-fitting strides, my ass was hanging out, and when I dared slip it into the ass-accentuating pants (as there was sufficient room and material to do so), I looked ridiculous. My rear looked comically large.
Adding to my frustrations were the many young (4-8 year old) girls out shopping with their mothers who found it quite hilar to pull back the change room curtain of the waiguo ren (foreigner) so that they could get a personal peep at my super sized - compared to their Mum's - assets (aka ASS).
Finally after a dozen stores and change rooms, I gave up. I was so down on my body and myself that I had to cease and desist before I dissolved in a puddle of tears. On my way out of the mall, I went into a store I had discovered the previous day - gorgeous (pricey) silk dresses and skirts that were Alannah Hill-esque. The girls remembered what I'd been looking at the previous day and brought them to me immediately - in my size! - to try on. There were no little peepers poking through the change room curtains to get a glimpse of my hump, lumps and bumps. I felt good - happy!! I couldn't decide which skirt to buy, so decided to get two (it *is* almost my birthday, after all!).
So after disappointment, success. And an appreciation that we're all physically different and all have our bad days in the change room. I'm loving my new skirts, so girly and unlike me. But they're gorgeous and they fit... and perhaps my style is changing, too. We shall see.
Monday, 22 August 2011
Friday, 19 August 2011
Go crazy?! Don't mind if I do!
You know how sometimes you think something is going on and you ask other people “do you see that/smell that/hear that?” and they look at you like “no, I don’t, crazy person – it must be all in your head”. I have been having a bit of that since I got here, which is unsurprising, but it reached its peak this week.
After almost 4 weeks of grabbing 2-5 hours of sleep a night, I acknowledged something was amiss. I wracked my brain trying to figure out what was keeping me awake at night. MSG in the food? Mattress too hard? Aircon is too cold? Not drinking enough water? Drinking too much water? I have tried an array of Chinese herbal tea concoctions in an attempt to calm my body for bedtime and sleep. The thing is, there is no issue with me being tired. My brain is tired. My body is tired. I’ve been practicing yoga, meditating, taking my night-time vitamins and even though I desperately *want* to sleep, I can’t.
Finally, I’ve put it down to too much noise. My apartment overlooks a major road, and aside from the odd domestic between neighbours, my nights are filled with a cacophony of horns, sirens and squeaky breaks. I asked a colleague staying in the same apartment building if she had a noise problem in her apartment. Cue the “no, crazy person” look. Huh. Maybe it’s me. I mentioned it also to the office manager, who had found and secured the apartment for the duration of my stay. Again, the look. A self-deprecating smile from me, and ‘maybe I have supersonic hearing, ha’. Lame joke, I know. My colleagues suggested that before complaining to the property manager that I first check the windows weren’t open. Duh, hadn’t thought of that. What am I, a moron? Off course the bloody windows aren’t open! ‘We’ve never had a complaint about it being too noisy before’, says the property manager. I. Don’t. Care. I am NOT crazy, and I’m not making it up! Get someone onto it, pronto! They’ve since sent someone to my apartment to check what the problem is. GOOD.
Except… I got home last night to my apartment and seems that the tradesman they’d sent spent more time kicking back in front of the television than rectifying the problem, as the street sounds were loud and clear (possibly amplified!?) and I had to re-set my cable tv because someone had mucked around with it. Maybe I am going crazy? Maybe I *do* have supersonic hearing? Either way, something has to be done as no way can l last 3 months on limited sleep (or with the increasingly regular ‘crazy person’ looks). Then, finally, victory! A text message to confirm that YES the seals in my apartment windows are faulty and the apartment is not sound proof. That they will try to fix them (but the ‘engineer’ is not sure how – encouraging!). My hearing is normal. I am not going crazy. And today, acknowledgement – from the sceptical staff who suggested that maybe I should check if the windows are open – that YES I do look “very, very tired”. I know, even I am surprised that I am happy to hear that my face is looking like the crumpled seat of an old pair of trousers! But no more crazy person looks. And finally, someone is backing me to get it sorted out. I just hope it is before I look too much more old and tired!
After almost 4 weeks of grabbing 2-5 hours of sleep a night, I acknowledged something was amiss. I wracked my brain trying to figure out what was keeping me awake at night. MSG in the food? Mattress too hard? Aircon is too cold? Not drinking enough water? Drinking too much water? I have tried an array of Chinese herbal tea concoctions in an attempt to calm my body for bedtime and sleep. The thing is, there is no issue with me being tired. My brain is tired. My body is tired. I’ve been practicing yoga, meditating, taking my night-time vitamins and even though I desperately *want* to sleep, I can’t.
Finally, I’ve put it down to too much noise. My apartment overlooks a major road, and aside from the odd domestic between neighbours, my nights are filled with a cacophony of horns, sirens and squeaky breaks. I asked a colleague staying in the same apartment building if she had a noise problem in her apartment. Cue the “no, crazy person” look. Huh. Maybe it’s me. I mentioned it also to the office manager, who had found and secured the apartment for the duration of my stay. Again, the look. A self-deprecating smile from me, and ‘maybe I have supersonic hearing, ha’. Lame joke, I know. My colleagues suggested that before complaining to the property manager that I first check the windows weren’t open. Duh, hadn’t thought of that. What am I, a moron? Off course the bloody windows aren’t open! ‘We’ve never had a complaint about it being too noisy before’, says the property manager. I. Don’t. Care. I am NOT crazy, and I’m not making it up! Get someone onto it, pronto! They’ve since sent someone to my apartment to check what the problem is. GOOD.
Except… I got home last night to my apartment and seems that the tradesman they’d sent spent more time kicking back in front of the television than rectifying the problem, as the street sounds were loud and clear (possibly amplified!?) and I had to re-set my cable tv because someone had mucked around with it. Maybe I am going crazy? Maybe I *do* have supersonic hearing? Either way, something has to be done as no way can l last 3 months on limited sleep (or with the increasingly regular ‘crazy person’ looks). Then, finally, victory! A text message to confirm that YES the seals in my apartment windows are faulty and the apartment is not sound proof. That they will try to fix them (but the ‘engineer’ is not sure how – encouraging!). My hearing is normal. I am not going crazy. And today, acknowledgement – from the sceptical staff who suggested that maybe I should check if the windows are open – that YES I do look “very, very tired”. I know, even I am surprised that I am happy to hear that my face is looking like the crumpled seat of an old pair of trousers! But no more crazy person looks. And finally, someone is backing me to get it sorted out. I just hope it is before I look too much more old and tired!
Thursday, 11 August 2011
It's a small world after all
Two things happened today that were pretty cool. The first made me smile initially, and then laugh. Quite a bit. The second took my breath away.
Around 7.30 this morning, I heard it. A vaguely familiar tune, repeated over and over again. What was it? A Christmas carol? A nursery rhyme? By the time I walked out the door for work, it was running on a loop in my head but I hadn’t identified the song. And then, I realised – the Disney song. You know the one, “there is just one moon and one golden sun, and a smile means friendship to everyone… though the mountains divide and the oceans are wide, it’s a small world after all”. Well done ME for remember the words, as I gave myself a mental pat on the back. But where is it coming from? I figured, must be an ice-cream truck, a la Mr Whippy and Mr Gelati in Australia. I tried to remember what songs they played as they meandered through Australian streets every summer, selling ice-creams. I mean, an ice-cream truck makes sense – it *is* summer here, and it hasn’t dropped more than 1-2C below 30C since I arrived 3 weeks ago. So, on my walk to work, I’m looking around, trying to find this ice-cream truck. Kind of seems a bit early in the day for ice-cream, but who am I to judge? Almost at the office, the music become significantly louder, and I stopped in my tracks to figure out *where* it was coming from. Visions of Micky, Minnie and Donald danced in my mind. All I could see in the street were taxis, a police van, and a garbage truck. The tune was coming from – that’s right – the garbage truck! I then started to think of how many Chinese men must leap out of bed at the sound of that song, realising that they didn’t put the bins out when their wives asked last night (it probably sooooo doesn’t happen that way, but still!) and cracked up. I love it! Musical garbage trucks!
The second cool thing today was a visit to Canton Tower, the highest TV tower in the world and less than 1 year old. It opened in October 2010 and is kind of like Eureka Tower in Melbourne but much sexier. On September 1, they are opening a new attraction – a slingshot bungee (not joking!) to complement the ‘world’s highest ferris wheel’. From www.gztvtower.info: Mark Hemel, the IBA architect that together with his partner Barbara Kuit designed the Guangzhou TV tower, comments, ″Where most skyscrapers bear ′male′ features; being introvert, strong, straight, rectangular, and based on repetition, we wanted to create a ′female′ tower being complex, transparent, curvy and gracious.″ ″Our aim was to design a free-form tower with a rich and human-like identity that would represent Guangzhou as a dynamic and exciting city. We therefore wanted it to be non-symmetrical so that the building would look as if ′in movement′ and ′alive′. The result is a tower like a ′sexy female′, the very reason that earned her the nickname: ′Xiao Man Yao′.″ which means "young girl with tight waist”. I love that this tower is a chick. Impressive by day, glamorous by night. She has a few ‘sky platforms’, like that in Eureka Tower in Melbourne. As you can see, from 433m up and from the vantage of the sky platform, Guangzhou is a HUGE city. And the picture only shows you a tiny part of it. But then, another reminder of how small the world is – chatting with another Aussie in the group, we realised we lived 2 streets apart in Melbourne’s East when we’re not expat-ing it up in old Canton.
So today I am grateful for another great day in Guangzhou; a big, big city in a small, small world
Postscript to my great Thursday – severe food poisoning from lunch at restaurant in Canton Tower. Spent my night alternating between being balled up on bathroom floor, and my head in the loo. Being sick SUCKS. Being sick when you’re all alone in a big city in a foreign country sucks even worse. Grateful for my bestie in Shanghai who checked in on me all night by call and text. I lived to tell the tale of my first GZ food poisoning. I hope there isn’t a second!
Around 7.30 this morning, I heard it. A vaguely familiar tune, repeated over and over again. What was it? A Christmas carol? A nursery rhyme? By the time I walked out the door for work, it was running on a loop in my head but I hadn’t identified the song. And then, I realised – the Disney song. You know the one, “there is just one moon and one golden sun, and a smile means friendship to everyone… though the mountains divide and the oceans are wide, it’s a small world after all”. Well done ME for remember the words, as I gave myself a mental pat on the back. But where is it coming from? I figured, must be an ice-cream truck, a la Mr Whippy and Mr Gelati in Australia. I tried to remember what songs they played as they meandered through Australian streets every summer, selling ice-creams. I mean, an ice-cream truck makes sense – it *is* summer here, and it hasn’t dropped more than 1-2C below 30C since I arrived 3 weeks ago. So, on my walk to work, I’m looking around, trying to find this ice-cream truck. Kind of seems a bit early in the day for ice-cream, but who am I to judge? Almost at the office, the music become significantly louder, and I stopped in my tracks to figure out *where* it was coming from. Visions of Micky, Minnie and Donald danced in my mind. All I could see in the street were taxis, a police van, and a garbage truck. The tune was coming from – that’s right – the garbage truck! I then started to think of how many Chinese men must leap out of bed at the sound of that song, realising that they didn’t put the bins out when their wives asked last night (it probably sooooo doesn’t happen that way, but still!) and cracked up. I love it! Musical garbage trucks!
The second cool thing today was a visit to Canton Tower, the highest TV tower in the world and less than 1 year old. It opened in October 2010 and is kind of like Eureka Tower in Melbourne but much sexier. On September 1, they are opening a new attraction – a slingshot bungee (not joking!) to complement the ‘world’s highest ferris wheel’. From www.gztvtower.info: Mark Hemel, the IBA architect that together with his partner Barbara Kuit designed the Guangzhou TV tower, comments, ″Where most skyscrapers bear ′male′ features; being introvert, strong, straight, rectangular, and based on repetition, we wanted to create a ′female′ tower being complex, transparent, curvy and gracious.″ ″Our aim was to design a free-form tower with a rich and human-like identity that would represent Guangzhou as a dynamic and exciting city. We therefore wanted it to be non-symmetrical so that the building would look as if ′in movement′ and ′alive′. The result is a tower like a ′sexy female′, the very reason that earned her the nickname: ′Xiao Man Yao′.″ which means "young girl with tight waist”. I love that this tower is a chick. Impressive by day, glamorous by night. She has a few ‘sky platforms’, like that in Eureka Tower in Melbourne. As you can see, from 433m up and from the vantage of the sky platform, Guangzhou is a HUGE city. And the picture only shows you a tiny part of it. But then, another reminder of how small the world is – chatting with another Aussie in the group, we realised we lived 2 streets apart in Melbourne’s East when we’re not expat-ing it up in old Canton.
So today I am grateful for another great day in Guangzhou; a big, big city in a small, small world
Postscript to my great Thursday – severe food poisoning from lunch at restaurant in Canton Tower. Spent my night alternating between being balled up on bathroom floor, and my head in the loo. Being sick SUCKS. Being sick when you’re all alone in a big city in a foreign country sucks even worse. Grateful for my bestie in Shanghai who checked in on me all night by call and text. I lived to tell the tale of my first GZ food poisoning. I hope there isn’t a second!
Tuesday, 9 August 2011
Ready, steady, cook! Not.
Confession. I don’t mind a bit of dixie-bashing. Seriously, I don’t. I am an enthusiastic (but not particularly good) cook, I love reading recipes anywhere – books, mags, online – and I don’t mind cleaning up my own mess. I actually find the whole process – from preparation, to cooking and then the repetitive, wash, rinse, repeat on dishes when it is all over quite cathartic and a good way to slow the mind after a busy day. I also take some pride in some of the structures I have built while stacking the dishes in the dish rack. So taking all this into consideration, it is not a stretch to say that my kitchen here is beyond basic. Beyond rustic. The lack of equipment is actively encouraging me NOT to fend for myself and make my own meals. And that is hurting me.
I was provided with:
• Saucepan (IKEA)
• Fry pan (IKEA)
• Basic utensils - ladle, egg flip, spaghetti server (also IKEA)
• Plateware for two – two plates, two bowls, two rice bowls, two tea cups (from, can you guess? IKEA)
• The saddest excuse for a knife block ever - these knives can’t cut an apple without bending and warping (very disappointing, IKEA)
• Cutlery for two – 2 knives, 2 forks, 2 spoons, 2 teaspoons
• Glassware for two – two glasses (I’ve broken one already) and 2 wine glasses (thank you, thoughtful landlord)
• Microwave
• Hot plate
• Fridge
End of stocktake. For shiz, that is seriously it.
Oh wait, I fib. I also have a large and very modern rice cooker. Cos, you know, they eat a bit of that over here. ^_^
But where’s my wok, man? What about a toaster, dude? And thanks for the hot plate, but I guess an oven/griller combo is out of the question?
Talking to one of the ladies in the office, she laughed at my desire for an oven. Why? They just don’t bake ANYTHING at home here. She also suggested that the lack of appliances may be deliberate attempt to keep me *out* of the kitchen. To save the maids from having to clean up all the greasy splatters from the wok. “But I would never do that!” I protest. “I clean up after myself!” (refer second sentence of this post).
Having my apartment serviced by the maids every Monday and Friday is quite nice, don’t get me wrong. The amount of dust that accumulates in just 24 hours has to be seen to be believed, so it is great that they come and dust, sweep and mop the floors. But I haven’t yet left more than a teaspoon or juice glass in the sink for them. It just feels so WRONG. I’m one person, and have hardly any dishes to dirty anyway, so seems a bit mean-spirited to leave for poor Ayi (Chinese for maid) to come in and do twice a week. As if I could even I could leave them that long to be done, I have so few to use! And, as I’ve said previously, I don’t mind doing it. Though, if my bf is reading this… oh never mind, the horse has bloody bolted and I’ve put it out there now and you will never offer to wash up again! *wink*
So… what is my point today, what am I grateful for? I am loving the RMB10 shop ($2 shop) for the various containers, utensils and cooking apparatus they stock, all for the bargain price of about $1.50 per item. I appreciate Ayi making my bed every Mon and Fri (sorry – that is all in good conscience I can leave for you to do apart from dusting and cleaning the floors). I’m lucky that no one else has to eat the food I am managing to prepare with my meagre provisions *hehe* And I’m grateful I live in a neighbourhood with lots of dining options for when I just couldn’t be arsed messing up my one pot and one frypan to make a dish that is missing a small but vital ingredient and so ends up tasting utterly BLAH. Oh, China. You’re testing me! And I’m grateful for *that*, too.
I was provided with:
• Saucepan (IKEA)
• Fry pan (IKEA)
• Basic utensils - ladle, egg flip, spaghetti server (also IKEA)
• Plateware for two – two plates, two bowls, two rice bowls, two tea cups (from, can you guess? IKEA)
• The saddest excuse for a knife block ever - these knives can’t cut an apple without bending and warping (very disappointing, IKEA)
• Cutlery for two – 2 knives, 2 forks, 2 spoons, 2 teaspoons
• Glassware for two – two glasses (I’ve broken one already) and 2 wine glasses (thank you, thoughtful landlord)
• Microwave
• Hot plate
• Fridge
End of stocktake. For shiz, that is seriously it.
Oh wait, I fib. I also have a large and very modern rice cooker. Cos, you know, they eat a bit of that over here. ^_^
But where’s my wok, man? What about a toaster, dude? And thanks for the hot plate, but I guess an oven/griller combo is out of the question?
Talking to one of the ladies in the office, she laughed at my desire for an oven. Why? They just don’t bake ANYTHING at home here. She also suggested that the lack of appliances may be deliberate attempt to keep me *out* of the kitchen. To save the maids from having to clean up all the greasy splatters from the wok. “But I would never do that!” I protest. “I clean up after myself!” (refer second sentence of this post).
Having my apartment serviced by the maids every Monday and Friday is quite nice, don’t get me wrong. The amount of dust that accumulates in just 24 hours has to be seen to be believed, so it is great that they come and dust, sweep and mop the floors. But I haven’t yet left more than a teaspoon or juice glass in the sink for them. It just feels so WRONG. I’m one person, and have hardly any dishes to dirty anyway, so seems a bit mean-spirited to leave for poor Ayi (Chinese for maid) to come in and do twice a week. As if I could even I could leave them that long to be done, I have so few to use! And, as I’ve said previously, I don’t mind doing it. Though, if my bf is reading this… oh never mind, the horse has bloody bolted and I’ve put it out there now and you will never offer to wash up again! *wink*
So… what is my point today, what am I grateful for? I am loving the RMB10 shop ($2 shop) for the various containers, utensils and cooking apparatus they stock, all for the bargain price of about $1.50 per item. I appreciate Ayi making my bed every Mon and Fri (sorry – that is all in good conscience I can leave for you to do apart from dusting and cleaning the floors). I’m lucky that no one else has to eat the food I am managing to prepare with my meagre provisions *hehe* And I’m grateful I live in a neighbourhood with lots of dining options for when I just couldn’t be arsed messing up my one pot and one frypan to make a dish that is missing a small but vital ingredient and so ends up tasting utterly BLAH. Oh, China. You’re testing me! And I’m grateful for *that*, too.
Saturday, 6 August 2011
To market, wet market
I emailed my family this week about a trip I had made to a 'wet market' close by my apartment here in Zhujiang New Town, Guangzhou. Why is it called a wet market? Well, apparently it is due to the fact that the vendors are constantly 'wetting' down the vegetables, fish and meat. They sell food here very close to it's natural state. Chinese supermarkets, even more so than in Australia, over-package their perishables. All the fruit and veg here are wrapped and wrapped again - 3 tomatoes on a tray and glad-wrapped, 2 cucumbers wrapped together, 1 apple on a tray wrapped etc. So much waste! And the products - as is often the case with supermarkets - fall well short of the quality you can find at your local green grocer, or as is the case here, wet market.
The fruit and veg at the wet market were vibrantly coloured, impossibly fresh and much more flavoursome than those I had purchased the week before at Jusco supermarket. The merchandising wasn't fancy, just piles and piles of gorgeous, fresh from the farm fruit and veg.
In my email, I was admittedly a 'bit of a girl', squeamishly describing how you could buy fish - freshly plucked from the tank and then killed, descaled, gutted and filleted in front of you, and how I instead opted for pork and tofu as my protein choices. I also gabbed on about how there was a part of the market where they would kill the chicken on the spot for you, and how I didn't want to meet my meal in advance.
My very wise father sent me a note with his thoughts on my squeamishness and his admiration for the way the Chinese do their best with what they have...
"In many respects I like their simplistic approach for unlike us and not having an oversupply of electricity they use those natural things to keep things fresh – viz
• Use the water that fish swim around in to keep them fresh before they are needed (I bet at the fish shop they had oxygen going into the tank to keep the fish swimming)
• As for Chickens – keep them in a cage (which is where you normally keep them) until they are processed = fresh meat"
Thanks Dad, for the reality check and different perspective. You're right (you usually bloody are, which can be frustrating at times!). Next time I'm at the wet markets, I won't be such a big girls' blouse and instead I'll admire the measures the vendors take to keep electricity use and costs down, their lack of superfluous packaging, and the unquestionable freshness of the products they're selling.
The pork shop
One of the many fish shops
The fruit and veg at the wet market were vibrantly coloured, impossibly fresh and much more flavoursome than those I had purchased the week before at Jusco supermarket. The merchandising wasn't fancy, just piles and piles of gorgeous, fresh from the farm fruit and veg.
In my email, I was admittedly a 'bit of a girl', squeamishly describing how you could buy fish - freshly plucked from the tank and then killed, descaled, gutted and filleted in front of you, and how I instead opted for pork and tofu as my protein choices. I also gabbed on about how there was a part of the market where they would kill the chicken on the spot for you, and how I didn't want to meet my meal in advance.
My very wise father sent me a note with his thoughts on my squeamishness and his admiration for the way the Chinese do their best with what they have...
"In many respects I like their simplistic approach for unlike us and not having an oversupply of electricity they use those natural things to keep things fresh – viz
• Use the water that fish swim around in to keep them fresh before they are needed (I bet at the fish shop they had oxygen going into the tank to keep the fish swimming)
• As for Chickens – keep them in a cage (which is where you normally keep them) until they are processed = fresh meat"
Thanks Dad, for the reality check and different perspective. You're right (you usually bloody are, which can be frustrating at times!). Next time I'm at the wet markets, I won't be such a big girls' blouse and instead I'll admire the measures the vendors take to keep electricity use and costs down, their lack of superfluous packaging, and the unquestionable freshness of the products they're selling.
The pork shop
One of the many fish shops
Tuesday, 2 August 2011
Aussies rock
One of my favourite aspects of travelling abroad is running into other Aussies. I mean, of course I’m not going to have an immediate affinity with every Aussie traveller I meet, but more often than not, it’s bloody great to run into them. I particularly love running into someone in a foreign city who has settled, knows the city, has loads of tips and is happy to share them with you. True of most expat Aussies. The good news is that there are many expats living and working here in Guangzhou – I guess due to a combination of the business opportunities here and the proximity to nearby expat hot spot, Hong Kong.
Last week, I was invited to expat drinks last and was told about something fabulous. Something that excited me more than $10 massages, $7 pedicures, yummy hot pot, rich culture, incredible shopping. An Aussie bakery. WITH PIES. AND SAUSAGE ROLLS. AND…. *LAMINGTONS*! Only a short walk from my apartment! Wheeeeeeeeee! And they stock Aussie beer and wine, too! Did I mention PIES? And sausage rolls? Oh and I almost forgot (over excited about pies and s/rolls) – I could get a SOY LATTE. Even a soy chai latte if I were so inclined! Here! In Guangzhou! The saying ‘all the tea in China’ wasn’t born out of them drinking a little tea here, ya know? They drink loads of the stuff and good lattes – soy lattes! – are like hen’s teeth.
So today I’m grateful for the Aussie sheilas who set up Boomerang Bakery. I haven’t met you yet, and I hope to soon but I am soooooooo glad you’re here and will be visiting on a regular basis.
P.S. Mum, if you’re reading – they also have caramel slice! How ace is that?!
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