When the Cheshire emerges...

Tonight I just wanted to quickly reflect on the awesome week I had away last week where I was one of 22 cadet journalists at the latest Fairfax Regional cadet induction - aka cadet camp (they have them twice a year).

I prepared myself for what to expect last week, and it was just that. A rehash of the uni degree with LOTS of shorthand (which I've since neglected with getting back and then preparing to go away again - another story). There was karaoke, a night out, but more than anything else there was FOOD.




Wow. Words cannot describe how amazingly fed we were by the end of that week. Morning teas, afternoon teas, 2-course dinners... We all likely gained a few kilos and all definitely went back with expectations of tea and cake at 10.30am. Some of us ended up improvising. Cake at work is king.

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What I really got from it was meeting people my age from all over the place, and more importantly knowing they were all there for the same reason I was. It helps to know there are others finding their way. Five days together in our own journalistic bubble was never going to be enough. Good times.

After all this though I still had three days in Sydney as I'd originally planned, to go to a concert and see friends. Even this felt like a real holiday - I saw everyone I'd hoped to and more. I made a new friend, and although I already missed the Fairfax gang the idea of meeting people and hearing their stories continued.

Needless to say Tuesday morning didn't go down so well.

Amidst all the current uncertainty within the Fairfax sphere, newcomers like myself are privy to some of the perks the company has to offer.

I've landed for cadet camp!

This story should've gone national because it's totally shown how awesome the community of Dubbo is. And of course because it's terribly terribly sad.

The Blunt family had moved to Dubbo for Allan's work, using their life savings from Sydney to make it happen, but his job was made redundant two weeks after getting here. Then one night little Ashley was taken to hospital because of strange symptoms but got sent home. She died the next day. True story.

Through the Daily Liberal, an appeal was formed where a local bank account was voluntarily set up. I put in $10 because I felt terrible for the parents and they couldn't really afford her funeral. In the last 5 days or so since, there's been over $10,000 pledged to help them pay for the owing costs. They don't know anyone here and it was terribly hard for them to approach the paper for help, it's heartbreaking.

Have a read of the full story, the front-pager from November 24 written wonderfully by one of our senior journos Heather Crosby. I seriously cried reading this, it was terrible. Here's a follow-up too.

In other Dubbo-related stuff, the news a cop was shot while hunting for alleged murderer Malcolm Naden outside of Tamworth this afternoon has got the state buzzing. He's one of NSW's most wanted and been on the run for six years after two women were killed. One body was found in a closed room and the other was never discovered. Grisly stuff.

I won't say too much on the final few places, only because I've been writing so much down for my personal records - and I'm starting to procrastinate from doing it, which isn't good.

Mallorca ended up being different to what I expected - perhaps that's because I was under the impression I'd be hitting the clubs, beaching it, sleeping and not much else. What I ended up doing was seeing all the important sights and areas thanks to our host Michel (good) and buying three pairs of shoes in as many days although my suitcase surely wouldn't allow for it (even better). When we did hit the clubs (on the Sunday night) it was exactly what I expected though - drunk Brits being bogan everywhere. Fantastic. Missed out on Deadmau5 by two nights at BCM (their main club where DJ Sammy performs every Friday - !) - I didn't get to go there which was a huge bummer but finding out I'd miss out on them killed me.

Barcelona was a great night, we really should've stayed there longer like we originally planned. Only as a transition between Mallorca and Athens we ended up having arguably the best accommodation all trip (with towels... and SOAP!), the best central location AND good luck with two clubs. Funny story time: dancing with Helen, then an Argentinean guy whose cousins had befriended us decides to get real close and ask me: 'Can I bite you? Pleeease?' I almost went into hysterics. Gold. We only had about four hours sleep before leaving to catch our flight, where I happen to bump into Beth from Tomatina. Small world.

Athens was great as a bookend to Nemea because I saw a totally different side of Greece, the one seriously affected by their current economic struggle. Student transport ticket for 90mins: 50 Euro cents. Cheeeeap. And they think things have skyrocketed. But spending time with my mum's side was great; went for coffee everyday - around a marina, Glyfada (which is a really nice area) - and returned to my love: the pite. Went to a restaurant which was constantly packed called Georgia's Pites where they seriously had the best yiros' I've ever had in my entire life. These didn't have chips in them like anywhere else but they tasted incredible.

Saw the Acropolis and surroundings: the Parthenon is colossal. I didn't want to leave it; so so beautiful. Think I cried a little. Saw Hadrian's Gate and the Temple of Zeus and then most of Ancient Agora where Helen had slight issues... climbing some steps, which of course are marble and therefore slippery, and an exasperated Helen says to me: 'MORE marble?!' I just turn and say: 'Dude, it's Ancient Greece. Of course there's marble.' That, with Barcelona two days before brought arguably the two best quotes of the trip. Genius.

Loved the Monestiraki and Plaka areas... felt drawn to Athens - and not just because everyone dresses impeccably. Caught myself imagining an older version of me there with a husband and kids walking around the streets. I must've looked local enough; a (hottt) TV presenter approaches me with mike and all. Couldn't help him out - need to brush up on my Greek properly I've decided. Didn't matter for the club we went to though... like Mykonos, looked like something out of a film. Every girl in heels (and me caught out wearing flats because I didn't know we were going) and really good mix of Greek and English music made for a great night out.

Before we knew it the five days were over and we were going home. No major dramas getting back to Oz, except for the freezing night-stay in Melbs. A horrible wake-up call. But I went to Sydney to shop and sightsee a bit more five days after coming back to Adelaide. After THAT I was shopped out AND aware I was really home. Which got me down for a bit. But I think I'm okay now. Looking at all my clothes makes me happy anyway.