Two Letters (Guest Post)

Dear Mother,

Life here is tough.

The mud comes up to my knees and stops me sleeping. Gab has drowned - can no longer go on. I can’t go on much longer either. I bend my head, about to give in to the sorrow. A voice whispers on the wind; “Chicken or fish for supper?” My tears break out.

We were deployed two weeks ago. The cold was unbearable - gad it was cold. Our first stop was Marlborough, a small country town southwest of London and the home of Nic's grandparents, Robert and Clare Napier. We disembarked from the shuttle and were frog-marched across the inhospitable territory of daisy-covered fields, riddled with enemy sheep and ferocious face-eating cows. We continued this way for some time, scouring canals and surveying the landscape from the heights of the downs. It was a gastly place. A criss-crossing of truly horrific and hostile plants which, if caught on the sleeve, could rip a man's arm clean off.
 

The barracks in which we are being held are by way of a torture chamber. We are required to get up at the horrendous hour of ten o’clock each morning without fail. We are then fed a measley three-course meal (the terrible home-made strawberry jam and marmalade included) which we are forced to live on for the next three hours until we must consume another banquet while held at gunpoint of course. The dinners are too painful for me to speak of. They are a truly horrifying choice of roast duck, gammon and the local fresh trout (caught that morning by our host).

That’s all I can speak of for now before complete mental breakdown. Will write again when find strength to go on. Give my love to the fish.

 - Nic and Gab

 _

  

Hey Everyone,

Yeah, as seen above we’ve had pretty easy sailing. We spent two weeks here touring England in the lap of luxury. We then trundled off to Ireland for a week where we stayed in University of Limerik with a friend of mine. The Irish are crazy and drink like they don’t want to live. It was great!

    But to be totally honest it’s not been all cherry-flavoured-chunks-of-goodness. We (‘we’ as in ‘gab’. Nic’s been vomiting on most transport while resenting my ability to sleep anywhere at anytime) have spent vast amounts of time sleeping off the night before or just generally doing nothing. For example, yesterday we spent the day holed up inside some art-students share-house in Cork watching Beauty and the Beast. I regret nothing.

    Really the worst part about traveling is that you’re the one doing it and you’re still as moody and insecure as you were at home You’re still not some hot-shot-jet-setter with money and charisma flowing around them like the water round Mickey Mouse in Fantasia. And just to make this clear, there are always funny stories and situational dramas spotted around the whole adventure but in between these episodes is lots and lots of sitting around trying to be organised for the next thing you’re supposed to be planning to do.

  I’d say the best thing we’ve experienced so far is the range of interesting characters we’ve met. Also trying to imitate local lingo is fun and apparently hilarious to the person you’re trying to imitate.

   Anyways, we don’t really want to bore you with a list of the things we’ve done. If you want to chat or hear the stories, shoot us an e-mail telling us that Sydney still loves us and we’ll get back to you asap (gabriellepeters@live.com).

Xoxoxoxo ttyl brb wtf gtfo bffl,   

Nic and Gab