marrakech in film

I don't even know how to begin this post, other than my tan is fading and I am craving the blistering heat*** of northern Africa.
Marrakech is chaotically beautiful, and 4 days spent there with Dalal were a blissful adventure. I feel like the charm of the city is so perfectly captured in film, it evokes the rustic magic of the medina, with its fading red buildings and winding souks of stalls and watermelons and donkeys and carts and snake charmers. The faded exposure gives a sense of times before and walking the streets of Marrakech has a similar effect.
The adventure was filled with 20p orange juice and problematic henna and 3 hour siestas by the pool and oases of calm and vibrant colours and a lost (and found) phone and mad roads and long taxi journeys for which we both slept solidly and tagine and mint tea and photoshoots and tiles and long walks and postcards and refreshing swimming and some questionable french (on my part obvs) and too much cat calling and a lot of very cute kittens and a mission to find the cheapest water and an utter adoration of the heat and all those little things you can't quite put into words.

The sun terrace of our Riad felt like a haven of utter tranquility, with our claimed sun beds, magical views over the city and a rare silence. We spent hours, after wandering the streets, lounging, reading and talking and swimming, before adventuring into the Moroccan night (which is an experience like no other–think snake charmers, monkeys on chains ( :( ), horses, stalls, street sellers, traditional musicians, dancers, a constant noise of excitement nd busy-ness). We would then return and sit by the pool and talk until fatigue got the best of us.
This trip marked my first out of Europe and, in a totally naive and ignorant way, I adored how different it was. This was definitely enhanced by the fact that we stayed in the Medina, as oppose to the new city, but everything was so exciting and contrasting (typified by me shouting: "oh my god its a camel!" approximately 2 minutes after meeting Dalal) and refreshing. A couple of the disposables are taken at Ouzoud falls (approx 3 hours out of Marrakech) and, when I wasn't sleeping, the journey was a fascinating realisation in just how rural and traditional Morocco is, with people riding donkeys, pushing carts and herding their goats along the main road.

The main 'touristy' bits we did include: le jardin majorelle, le jardin secret (my fave), la maison de la photographie, palais de bahia, katoubia tombs, ouzoud falls, djemaa el-Fna, the medina and probably much much more that I've forgotten in the whirlwind. These were all madly aesthetic but I also adored just wandering the streets and taking in the language and the culture and the chaos.

And, after parting with Dalal (she stayed on in Morocco with family) and 3 hours of intense Moroccan airport security, I kissed goodbye to the blessed sun (I adore the sun) and leaned out the plane window and thought "fuck thats Africa!" and "fuck! I did it!" (dis bitch could't stay away from home (for even a night) until she was 16 lmao). I then cried on the train home because I'd been travelling for 13 hours, because my train was delayed by 2 hours and because its actually a very long way from Marrakech to Newcastle. In true Katie style, I then jumped off the train and straight to the pub to see my friends and break my 3 weeks of sobriety lol.

So here's to an ace 4 days of Moroccan paradise (that ended 2 weeks of general paradise), internet friends who you go on holiday with (?!), sun loving and the immediate resumption of this summer's madness that consists entirely of work, friends, g&t's nd no sleep.


***blistering heat is absolutely no exaggeration, my feet started to spontaneously blister and thus became crispy (yum!). I also had a dramatic nosebleed in the pool which led to a trail of blood running through the riad
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veja

lmao it gives me the same nerves that my dirty shoes are on my white bed sheets.

I was at a complete loss as to what to ask for for my birthday. The options were either an iron, kettle and tea towels for uni (enthralling!) or these. Obvs, I opted for the latter.
And I am in love.

I was introduced to Veja by the queen of ethical blogging (Eleanor) and have dreamed of this very pair ever since. They're more expensive than the usual trainers I would purchase but for obvious reasons, they are worth the investment.

(Side note: does anyone else feel the economic conflict with ethical clothing?? I know Nike/Adidas/most-shoe-brands are shit nd I know my position of economic privilege on a global scale means I shouldn't buy into it but I'm also funding my life on minimum wage jobs/student funds nd even £60 on trainers stings. For me its not even a case of less pieces/better quality because I don't even shop that much but £100+ on items just aint viable for more than a bday present– do you guys feel this? or do you think we should avoid fast/cheap fashion anyway? or is it case of buy ethically or buy nothing?? tell me!!!)

Veja is a french shoe brand that focusses on producing ethical and environmentally friendly trainers. They are made of wild rubber and organic cotton by producers who receive a fair wage (cotton farmers are paid twice the market rate par example) and are unionised to ensure economic stability. They adhere to fair-trade principles, are environmental conscious and are just bossing it.

And ethical benefits, environmental advantages and social responsibility aside (I would be lying if I said all my fashion choices are were guided by ethical principles), they are a peng pair of trainers. I adore the retro vibe that totally makes me feel like I am running around a 80's French gymnase (give me a white tennis skirt and I'll be off) and chunky white trainers are so my thing.  I think these are actually mens and there were so many I could have chosen (I'm obsessed with the white and black/white versions) but they've already received so many compliments and intrigue.
I've paired them with a bretton striped t-shirt dress a few times (this one) and fuck do I enjoy the Parisian vibes it exudes (allowing me to vicariously live my French alter-ego).

As is always the case, they'll not remain white for long and will accidentally be worn on a night out but the memories those marks will evoke will increase their sentimental value. I hope to wear them until they fall apart at the seams, and still continue to patch them back together.

fleeting

Its been a while.
There's so much to update and such little literary fluency.
My brain has forgotten how to write and with it, any desire to do so.
But these are my last few months of freedom and, in order to extract myself from the repetitive madness of June, I need to engage in some more intellectual activities. And this is a start.

Let's start with the present. Today has been spent on my floor, surrounded by a pile of unmoving mess, not knowing where or how to begin. That, for me, is the process of unpacking. Love Island has been playing in the background and, realistically, that probably impeded upon any sense of productivity. But the pile is reducing, the washing has been hung out and gradually life is resuming a sense of normality.
And the past 3 weeks.
They've consisted of a lot of trains and planes, sun, an underwhelming 19th, reading, immense bread consumption, world cup watching, a strange date, a self enforced drinking ban, paradisiacal sea swimming, happiness, tan lines, sorbet eating, watermelons, excitement, orange juice drinking, Moroccan roads, siestas, monkeys, aesthetics, cute kittens, not so cute cat calling, a lot of waiting, a bit of sun burn, a lot of tiles, palm trees, patisserie, views, tears on trains, delays, a reunion and a whole lot of fun.

Photos and in-depth accounts are to come, this is simply a drop-in between fleeting hours of peace, before resuming work and friends nd life. I could apologise for this site becoming a cascade of summer enthusiasm but this happiness and adventure is what I've been craving all year, so I'm relishing in it.

Hope summer is treating you all kindly, I'm off to dream of my future life in the mediterranean (lol i wish), find an outfit that most shows off my hard-earned tan lines (lol narcism) and catch up w my friends, before the crash back to reality (i.e. work).

juin

June was one of the happiest months in a very long time. It was spent either partying, sleeping, working or laughing and I think thats a good way for life to be. It was sunny and warm and I've been too busy to even think what my head is doing. It'll be remembered with an ethereal glow, the glory days of this strange year.

here are some pics to remember the days. They are mostly just scenery because my friends probably don't wanna be plastered across the internet.

Some highlights include:
being mugged in Manchester (just because it was hilariously pathetic and a fucking gr8 story)
and meeting Lucy whilst crying and drunk
having my best pals home
driving alone nd the independence and driving my friends about
drinking hungarian wine and playing piccolo
running
baking cakes with nice people
watching love island, hungover or in bed in Buda crowded around a single phone or with my sister
evening @ quilliam brothers
being paid for the excessive shifts (materialistic but also v rewarding)
sunset at the beach with friends
readin' in the sun
budapest
a hilarious night out which we will never not laugh about
drinks with my brother
breakfast in the sun
just being with friends
realising i live in the most beautiful place ever
the golden evening light on my wall

These seem like pretty mundane things but its been so good. I am paying for utter lack of sleep and no-days-off but man, I've had fun.
Lets be real, right now I feel sad. Like I might actually cry. Its definitely a bit of nostalgia and a realisation that my gap year is coming to an end and I don't know how I feel about it (ready to move on? maybe, ready to meet new people? yes, ready to work hard? lmao no, ready to end the fun nd freedom? no) and a fear that summer is running out and the reminder that boys r stupid.

July includes: turning 19, a family holiday, a Moroccan adventure, the first weekends off, uni prep. Pls be as good, I need some more of this sun nd fun.

buda baby

I have a very happy sadness this evening. The kind of sadness that originates from fun weekends and the realisation of work tomorrow and 36 hours with no sleep and photos and best friends.

I re-visited Budapest for the weekend with my gal pals as a homage to our infamous weekend there last year as part of our European interrail trip. Suffice to say this years trip lived up to expectations.

these are mostly pics of buildings. i didnt think my friends would appreciate being plastered across the internet u know. 

Things I adore about Buda:

the architecture (everything looks like fell straight out a wes anderson film), the yellow trams, its setting on the Danube surrounded by mountains, how grand everything is, the vintage aesthetic (nothing has changed in 50 years), the nights out, the ruin bars, the cheap beer, the sun, the history, the identity, the tradition, the eastern feel, the dramatic and extra feel to everything. Its just one of my favourite places. 

There's also some things I really don't love (their politics, the repulsively misogynist attitudes of most men we encountered) but for 3 days it was magical. 

The trip doesnt really translate onto paper but here's some substandard pics and a list to remember how much I enjoyed the 3 days and how much I fuckin love the city. 

Best bits:

eating pasta in our apartment 

pre-ing off vodka that marketed itself as 'budget' and wine that cost £1.95

gellert baths

szimpla kert

falafel wraps 

morning walks

my friends 

dancing to house remixes of adele

red pull and bear dress

the carnage of the last night/morning

st stephen's basilica 

ruin bar 

the heat of the first day

laughing 

moscow mules

Perhaps the weekend was less centred around the city as last time but just as magical. The final night was hilariously horrific (no sleep, 4 smashed friends, 4 sober friends, a messy apartment, unpacked suitcases, 3 am taxi, bright idea of clubbing, a tragically long journey home) and we all passed out as soon as we boarded the plane. Worth it for the laughs I fink.

So yeah. Tonight I feel sad because tomorrow is a shock back to reality. I've had a week of no sleep and nights out (sorry body). The weekend felt too short and as though it didnt really happen. I miss my friends. I wish we were continuing our adventure around Europe. As always my mind questions whether I'll ever do something that enjoyable again. Obvs this is bullshit. 

But it was so fun and felt so safe and comfortable. 

SO now I cry because its over (lmao get a grip) and because I've got work tomorrow but also smile because my friends are home alllll summer and more adventures are planned and maybe the change of October is exciting????

If you ever get the chance, go to BUDA!! I adore it and know you will too. For a more in depth account, read this post. 

**

I'm actually feeling the happiest I have in a long time. It's the heat and sun and friends being home nd things to look forward to and no empty abyss and busy-ness and laughs and memories and I sort of want to cry tonight but I'm really just having a breather in all the madness.

I have 3 months left of my gap year, 2.5 months left of summer fun. Its been a fucking weird year but I am 110% ready to just go for it with these dwindling days. Have as much fun as possible, laugh as much as poss, have as many 'what the fuck' nights as poss, tick off as many things off my list as poss and treasure every second of the freedom. 

the summer list

The gap year is drawing to a close (?!), summer is upon us and I wanna get. shit. done. Life is so exhaustingly but exhilaratingly busy as I navigate my way through June with no days off and nights catching up with friends. It'll be worth it when I get paid though, am I right?
Through the madness and brilliance of friends being home and feeling super happy that I survived the year and just relishing in fun and achievement and future, I need something to hold me accountable. So here it is.

(I'll for sure be adding to this as I think of more ideas when day dreaming at work)

1) read Macbeth
2) make bread
3) try and use my film camera
4) get my hair cut
5) get a killer tan
6) go on day trips now ya gurl can drive (countryside, beach, picnics)
7) sew an actual clothing item
8) see a sunset
9) go to London
10) go to Edinburgh
11) see guilty feminist
12) drink wine in the park (in a classy way tho yeh)
13) have some memorable nights out
14) see Mamma Mia 2
15) read as many books as poss
16) spend days laughing w pals
17) swim in the sea
18) start another journal
19) make mems on my adventures
20) embark on the Oxford reading list
21) make a film to document some of it
22) run (get up to 8k)

Ah,  I've just had a moment of like "I never want this to end". Something about having friends back after a year of rewarding but prominent loneliness (wow complicated emotions) and having so much fun and so many plans and so many laughs already I just...ah please don't end.
This summer is gonna be sick. 4 holidays (which feel even more rewarding because I funded them entirely independently), working which = money, nights out, days out, freedom, minimal responsibilities, an exciting end and just fun.
I hope its good u know.
Keep up with all my summer fun on my insta lol.

change

A song just came on that transported me to summer 2015 nd it sort of hurt a bit idk. That summer was good. Life felt more stable and secure than it does now. None of this life change shit. Maybe I'd like to go back to being 15 for a while.
Change is weird. I crave change, need it on a regular basis to still find excitement in life. I get bored easily and spontaneity and messed up routines offers spark and fulfilment. But when its a change in a person or a change in something you loved or something you relied on to see you through the hard times
idk man, that's tough.
You realise that nothing is the same as it used to be. It never will be. And you've spent the past 10 months of tears and fatigued fun dreaming of the relax to normality. And you understand that that can never happen. People change and I know its a good thing and I know its growth and its empowering for them and imagine if we never changed?? but it also generates a pining homesickness of the past.
Take me back to the good times.
And maybe we'll learn to exist in our new found worlds. We'll find new patterns and new laughs but right now it just feels like a harkening back to the past that isn't really there.

But big change is coming too. Moving away, starting uni, meeting new people, adopting independence, settling back into education after a year out, leaving my jobs and volunteering and the people I've met, losing the routine I spent the year fostering, having to actually look after myself all the time, being hours away from home and no longer in the city that sells vodka trebles for £2.
And this is good and its so exciting and fuck am I ready for friends and company and young people. This year has been lonely (but also very good and fun!) and I've spent a lot of time only own nd its been an experience but I sure am ready to spend less time in my head and do more stuff as a collective.

Change is scary and sad when you see you're no longer as compatible with the people you love. Its sad when you remember your lives used to exist in shared experiences and that is no longer. Its sad when you understand that this is the fundamental trajectory.
But its exciting when you remember this change is coming for you. When you know newness is on the horizon. When you have intangible expectations and thats a good thing.

How do you all feel about change? How do you cope with it? How can you embrace it?

musings #4

Fuck man, its June!

(as always all pics are from pinterest, found here)
past:
I have: tried on a lot of very ugly swimwear, read, partied, baked a lot of cakes, drank a lot gin, cried a few times, ran a lot, burned out, denied myself r&r (must! not! stop!), bought too many pairs of culottes, had an evening picnic on the beach, ate bircher muesli, tried and failed to curb my fruit consumption, enjoyed wine, dreamed of summer picnics w pals, worked an absurd number of hours, had some very good days and some quite bad days, felt nostalgic that this year is coming to an end, adored the sun but felt sad I had to spend so much of it inside, laughed, flirted, documented a lot in my journal, had a sick flute lesson (legit its the most cathartic therapy, for me the hour is the most essential form of weekly self-care), tried to tackle my reading list and sewed a hideous prototype of a dress lmao.

present:
Its Friday. I've spent the day being paid to make cakes. I've got my window open, tunes blasting, and an ethereal golden light streaming through. I am shattered beyond most measures but trying to take advantage of these seconds of peace. This evening has been blissfully mundane, a bath, a run and a peng risotto. Ah, breathe.

future:
Tomorrow I go to Manchester for the night. Mixed feelings.
My friends come home next week. Hype for mint nights out, evenings in, day trips, laughter, familiarity, a long ol' summer. Also ambiguity and stress because we're all gonna b so busy and idkk will shit get organised??? will our schedules align?? (the answer is: everyone else's will because I'm the only fucker who works days) also stress because all the things I wanna do and wanna achieve and places I wanna go but when will I a) fit them in, b) get round to organising them, c) what happens if something is actually happening at home and I don't wanna go???
But, 3 weeks today I'll be basking in Hungarian sunshine and drinking £2 mojitos and gurl I am HYPED.
I also came to the (slightly concerning) realisation that I said yes to so many shifts that I don't have a single day off in June (aside from 2 weekends away) but I think its gonna be okay?? money and busy-ness are both good and this year has taught me the acquired skill of a 7 hour shift after a night out.

SO yeah! I've been busy and a bit sad but also excited and reflective. Nothing new there.
Let me know what you've all been up to!

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