Swimmin' With Da Fishes (well, not exactly)

South Bristol Divers Club

Some things just happen out of the blue (apologies for pun) and my trial dive was one of these things. I signed up as a member of the Bristol Active Social Club and, within a week, an e-mail landed in my inbox inviting members to try diving. I swim regularly but do it in a 1920s lady fashion (head above water with craned neck). It's not as graceful as it sounds, I look more like a drowning seal. So, needless to say, swimming under water would be a new experience for me. The trial dive was offered for the paltry fee of £10 by the South Bristol Divers Club. The Club have sole use of Bristol South Swimming Pool in Bedminster on Tuesday evenings and it's here that they practise, train and offer complete newbies taster sessions.

I arrived to meet a couple, Karen and Ian, who have been divers for 30 years and no doubt have a story or two to share. Ian was my trainer for the evening and after a detailed description of how the next 30 minutes would pan out, and the assurance that I would not be forced to drop myself backwards off the deep end, we got ourselves prepped for submersion. This involved, firstly, attaching an air canister to a divers jacket. The jacket itself looked, to me, like an airplane cockpit with all the knobs and pulleys (for inflation and deflation) but I got the hang of it eventually. Then, the lot was strapped to my back after a counter weight being tied around my waist to avoid toppling over and causing panic to the synchronised swimmers who were finishing their session at the deep end. I was provided with some goggles which I was encouraged to spit into to clean...my Nana would have been appalled. Then I was shown how to use the air tube thingy, a very important piece of kit for those who are not direct descendants of The Little Mermaid.

I found myself kneeling on the floor of the pool, breathing through a tube, watching the swimmers glide through the water and I felt very relaxed indeed. However the breathing apparatus took a bit of getting used to. In fairness, all you do is inhale and exhale but, in the context of the situation, I was thrown. I kept inhaling until my lungs were full and forgot to let any air out. When I did exhale I was surrounded by bubbles of my own air...pretty cool. My confidence grew quicker than I expected, by the end of the session I was kitted out in flippers and swimming up and down the pool. It turned out to be quite an uplifting evening despite my pre-dive nerves. The fact that it involved no actual diving was a relief.

The session was finished off with a well deserved half at the local pub where the club regularly meet. Having regulated my breathing to normal mode, I got chatting to Jas, who had sent the original mail through Bristol Active, and he introduced me to their various members. Steve was introduced to me as a "Paddy". I thought, "Ah, one of my own" but just before I asked him where in Ireland he's from Jas went onto explain that PADI is a diver training organization to which some of their members are associated. Good save. Aswell as earning qualification (BSAC membership), the club members organise trips abroad to dive proper like and see fish and all that palaver. I can imagine that would be awesome but baby steps for me, I have yet to master breathing through a tube.

http://www.southbristoldivers.co.uk
http://www.bristolactive.org.uk/
Image: southbristoldivers.co.uk

Lions Eat Turkey

LDB Thanksgiving Dinner

This month, rather than challenging myself, I've been training my stomach for December 25th. It's a very important part of the Christmas countdown to avoid trouser buttons popping off at a result of sudden bingeing. Roughly 17% of casualties admitted to A&E on Christmas Day are grannies with flying button related injuries*. I say train the belly with mini binges from now until the big day. The Americans have the right idea by eating anything that will accompany roast turkey in the last week of November. It is part of a very clever public holiday which they've called Thanksgiving - a name given by grannies who have escape aforementioned injuries on Christmas day**.

I am on the mailing list for Lions Drink Bellinis, a fab social group offering "fun, social and affordable nights out in Bristol". When the invite for Thanksgiving dinner came through I snapped it up, especially considering it was being headed up by the two American members of the group. In lieu of buying a ticket, guests were asked to bring along a dish of their choice. I opted for Pumpkin Pie. However having never tasted, let alone baked, one I was to have no idea how successful my attempt would be until the night, bit risky eh? Plus I was told the day before that one of the American lads was also making one. Oh the pressure...

Thanksgiving is traditionally a family oriented holiday, food is cooked & enjoyed at home with family. So, in true American style, we were 30 people sat around a long table at the Rainbow Café Restaurant in Clifton, conversation bubbling and the aroma of roast turkey wafting it's way through the hungry crowd. Further down there was a buffet of turkey, ham, macaroni cheese (yes, that's what i said!), mashed potatoes, roasted veggies, red cabbage and home made gravy. Although each person brought just one dish each there was enough food there to feed a small army. And I haven't even listed the desserts yet. Along with my pumpkin pie was pecan pie, apple pie and chocolate chip cookies. Hello there food coma!

In addition to learning about quirky American eating habits I met some great people. Amongst the guests were a couple who enthralled me with their passion for travel & a group of ladies offering up their single male friends to eachother in a bartering style, that's my kind of currency!

The BBC Food Pumpkin pie recipe I followed did me proud (see pic). Now I have a few additions to the Christmas feast this year - mac cheese and pumpkin pie (not together of course...although ya never know with these American fellas...)

Some other events run by this fabulous group include cider tasting, steak nights, wine & cheese workshops & fondue evenings - as you can probably tell a lot of these are centered around food and drink, fab fab fab.

* This isn't an actual fact but I wouldn't be surprised if it were true.
** This isn't true either.

http://www.lionsdrinkbellinis.com
Image: Jo Guy

Around The World In 11 Dances

Bristol Zumba

After what seems like an age, Sinead Nua has returned from holiday. A week in France resulted in an extra half stone around midriff – eek! Instantly, that Zumba class I wanted to try out was promoted to top of ‘To Do’ list.

For anyone who doesn’t already know, Zumba is a Latin inspired dance fitness class incorporating Salsa, Merengue, Reggaeton, Cumbia, Calypso, Hip Hop to name just a few dance styles (I hadn’t heard of half of these before).
I went to Redland High School to the class run by Jo Soteriou. On arrival I realised just how much Zumba has taken the world by storm…or Redland at least. There were over 30 people in the class, all ages and abilities from the teeny tiny fluent salsa-ites to the completely uncoordinated and giggly newbies. I fell into the latter category, not that it mattered. Nobody cared that I almost tripped myself up with my own feet or that I was devoid of rhythm.

Within the hour-long session, we covered 11 fun frenetic sequences finished off by a cool down dance (never would have thought this would work but it was the perfect end to a boogie filled hour). So, as I said, I fitted comfortably into the uncoordinated category of participants. I confidently flailed my arms around and jumped to the beat like a crazy person. The only bits where I remotely had any rhythm were the on the spot jogging bits. Then I felt like a true pro…until the arm swooping, leg-kicking African moves set in again. Although the 90s rave lesson I got from a friend in a nightclub some time ago came in very handy, I got my chance to shine there. My favourite part was the re-enactment of the Pussycat Dolls’ Jai Ho video. In my head it was EXACTLY the same and I was rather hoping I would be discovered by a scout and featured in their next music video. A far cry from reality if I’m to be honest. It was like Jai Ho in sweats, limbs thrashing about as if independent from body…not what a scout gets up for in the morning unfortunately. There’s always next week.

Overall, Zumba was a reet laugh (gone all Northern again, must look into past life). It was exercise disguised as fun. Now, that’s what I’m talking about, that half stone will never know what hit it!

http://www.bristolzumba.co.uk/
Image: bristolzumba.co.uk

Just Hanging Around

The Bristol Climbing Centre

Drumroll please. So this is it, my first big challenge. First, let me get you in the picture. I am TERRIFIED of heights, even stepladders bring me out in a cold sweat. Recently my mother unveiled a collection of memories she had stored away in the attic and, thanks to my brother’s handiwork, now has an attic stairs to access it. I was of course excited to see what treasures my 22 year old self had left behind for me. One snag however, the stairs seemed more like a ladder on a hinge and to a coward like me it was a challenge to get on it. Going up wasn’t too bad, probably because of the excitement of what was in those dusty boxes. Coming down was the difficult bit, the world looks so far down from the top of a ladder. It’s ludicrous to be so afraid of such a thing. So when I decided to challenge myself more there was only one thing I could think of - climbing.

Since moving to Bristol I’ve met more people who climb than anything else. It seems to be a really popular pastime, one that I never thought I would be a part of. That sense of exclusion made me feel that my fear of heights was holding me back. Surely it’s not that difficult, the website has a child on it for crying out loud. So I went guns blazing along to the climbing centre in St. Werburghs. Fearing I might crumble and turn back I barely stopped for traffic, I was like a crazed loon on a mission.

I arrived and was given a harness and a helmet...”Oh dear, so I’m really doing this then”, I thought. I was teamed up with two other novices and we took turns in scaling the wall. I assumed that everyone would be as cagey as me on this taster session. How wrong I was. The other two were up and down faster than I could say ‘nausea’ and suddenly it was my turn. Not wanting to appear a wimp (and faster than my brain could calculate what was coming next) I got on that bugger and climbed. I got to halfway and looked down. Eek! It was dizzying and on my first attempt I argued that I had come far enough and wimpered to come back down. While the instructor saw to a more daring climber on his descent I had to wait...just wait. Thinking “Flippin' ‘ell how long do I have to dangle here?”, I clung to the wall until my fingers stiffened. Fearing that I may hurl I closed my eyes and thought of England. It seemed like an eternity before the instructor gave me the go ahead to safely come back down. “Wait a minute, you want me to WHAT?”, I shrieked. He had instructed me to LET GO OF THE WALL. I questioned his sanity for a moment and wondered what I had done to deserve to die, right here in St Werburghs. Claiming back a scrap of rationality, I gave in and let go of the wall. In comparison to scaling up, abseiling down was a breeze. I didn’t expect to enjoy that part, what a relief. Job done....almost.

The next wall was a tad more difficult and I’m sure you can sense the pattern emerging here. Each climb was more of a challenge than the last. The bits jutting out from the wall (that you cling to for dear life) got a little harder to negotiate, thus the skill developed when embarking on climbing as a pastime. The instructor described it as a giant puzzle. I had no idea it was a mental workout aswell as a physical one, yet another reason to do it. However, the one reason against was still trumping the many for.

Five minutes to the end of the session, I thought, “nice one, nearly there” but I wasn’t. I had not yet completed a full wall. I decided it was time to strap on a pair (so to speak). I scaled the wall and got to about three quarters of the way when a voice from below provided guidance. I responded “Is that you God?" No, it was the instructor. Good, don’t really fancy a visit from Himself while I’m hanging off a wall. Step by step he guided me up until I touched the ceiling. I never expected to get to the top but here I was looking down on the tops of everyone’s hard hats. That familiar dizzying sensation washed over me so I closed my eyes and abseiled down to terra firma, this time with an amazing feeling of accomplishment. Okay so I’m still a coward when it comes to heights but at least I know I can do it if I really try...I’m even considering a course.

http://www.undercover-rock.com/
Image courtesy of Undercover Rock.

My Pizza Friend

The Big Pizza Date

I'm still working on the scary challenge so watch this space. In the interim an interesting opportunity arose featuring pizza and men. I like pizza. I like men. Easy decision here, invite accepted. It was to the Big Pizza Date, run by mysinglefriend.com at Pizza Express. I got the chance to create my own pizza and meet some new people. A room full of mingling singletons, dough to knead and shape (v therapeutic) & free flowing booze, better than glaring square eyed at Big Brother.

My previous experiences of online dating have been a bit bland. I gave it a rest for a while in favour of actually meeting real live people in real time. So, my expectation of the Big Pizza Date was fairly low but I figured it was worth a whirl for the pizza alone. Turns out the addition of this doughy distraction eased the pressure of the 'dating' part, making it a lot of fun.

We were divided up into groups and shown how to fling the pizza dough about to shape it, without having it land on someone's shoes (nobody likes the taste of leather and laces). We chose our own toppings and off they went into the giant oven while we sipped prosecco. I was a bit jealous of the group in the far corner where a flour fight broke out, the casualties emerging with white dusty faces. However I had to commit to the debate that had ensued at my table as to whether a persons choice of pizza reflected their personality. FYI - I went with mozzerella, olives, artichoke, mushroom, capers & anchovies with a light sprinkle of oregano. I like to think it reflects my creativity and lust for salt.

While the pizzas baked we mingled some more, helped along by the endless supply of bubbly. The characters were as varied as the pizza toppings, from Mr Red Onion & Mushroom to Stuffed Crust Boy, there was a wealth of personalities in that room, including the women. It felt more like making friends than dating. Although I have to admit I was more interested in the pizzas than the men. I did come away with a phone number and set a date with one person. I can’t technically call it a date however unless I’ve switched teams...

I was pleasantly surprised to have had such a nice evening, thanks to a hearty combination of the tasty pizza and the energetic company. And, dating aside, a girl can be sure of one thing, a good pizza will never let you down!

http://www.mysinglefriend.com
http://www.pizzaexpress.com
Image courtesy of pdphoto.org

The Book, The Pizza And Me

Clifton Bookclub

I know what you're all thinking. These new experiences aren't challenging enough. So, before the complaints start snowballing I figure I'm going to have to do something to remedy this. Baby steps though eh?

For those of you who don't know this about me, I don't read a hell of a lot, with the exception of the nutritional information on chocolate bars and that's far from riveting (can be a shocker sometimes though). I'm more of a picture person :) I found a book club on Gumtree and, again, sent a query on it's merry way through cyberspace. I was invited to join the Facebook group of the Clifton Bookclub, my first bookclub read being The Tent, The Bucket And Me by Emma Kennedy. It took only a few days to read it and I was entertained, proud (to have read a whole book in less than a year) and excited at meeting new people.

I took myself along to my first meeting with the club, to a pizzeria where I met 8 other ladies. Surprisingly the book took up about an eighth of the talktime with the conversation moving onto jobs, pastimes, other favourite books, weddings - one of the members is due to be married soon...isn't everyone these days?...or is it my age?....anyway I digress. Despite (and perhaps because of) the relaxed bookiness the evening was really enjoyable. The pizza was a bit bland but hey, you can't have everything.

The next book on the list is Shantaram by Gregory David Roberts which I expect, judging by what I've been told, is going to be a bigger challenge to read within a month. Well, as I said, baby steps but I am working on a more daring venture, I promise!

http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/group.php?gid=292250174747&ref=ts
Image courtesy of Ebury Publishing

Move Over Dr. Hauschka!

Natural Face Products Workshop

Having perused the Bristol Folk House website for inspiration I decided to go 'au naturel' with the Natural Face Products Workshop. I arrived after a stressful Tuesday afternoon to the calming aromas of lavender and rosemary, ahhh that's lovely, that is, headache disappearing. Laid out on the table in the centre of the room were apples, bananas, spinach & mint - among other foodstuffs. I wondered, firstly, if I had walked in on a cooking class and, secondly, why I had not eaten dinner?!!

The workshop was run by Claire Day, a wonderfully serene lady with immaculate skin. Nice one I thought, good sign, (not like when you have your hair done by someone with 'flock of seagulls' hair and you get a bit nervous) I was in good hands here. Claire went on to tell us how the natural ingredients that we all have in our kitchens can make fantastic beauty products, while saving waste. If you have something going off in your fridge, whack it in the blender and slap it on your face for a nice relaxing mask. Hmmm, all I could think of here was the lonely red pepper and half jar of wholegrain mustard I had knocking about in mine - note to self, go shopping.

So we started off with a Honey & Banana Face Mask. Making this reminded me of preparing my nephew's lunch, however this was destined to be slathered all over my face....wait, no, still rather like nephew's lunch. Maybe this is the reason why a baby's skin is so soft! So back to the banana mush, I mean, mask. I had a little try, slapped that bad boy on and waited for youthful skin to emerge. Verdict was that my face certainly felt like it was being treated but that banana was a bugger to get off! Next came the Rose Water Moisturiser. Now, this surprised the hell out of me. It was so simple to make! And there I was, just a few weeks before, queueing up & waiting to part with £16 for a tiny tube of gunk that claimed to restore all sorts of abbreviated nutrients to my skin (science was never my forté). This homemade moisturiser took minutes, was all natural and could be tailored with a few drops of essential oil to whatever you want it to be. I made a marjoram and rosemary face cream and a peppermint foot cream, flippin' lovely.

Added to these products was a Green Honey Mask (which looked rather like a soup recipe I've tried), exfoliating Baking Soda Facial Scrub (so easy I almost let out a little yelp) & Apple & Lavender Facial Toner. With the varying properties of oils & fruits, these products can be altered to make whatever you require, ie spot zapping/cellulite kapowing/dryness busting moisturiser.

After this workshop my fridge will be extra stocked with all sorts of concoctions (just hope they don't get spread on flatmate's toast) while my wallet will be a little fuller, not to mention that emergence of youthful skin, hoorah!

http://www.bella-bees.co.uk
http://www.bristolfolkhouse.co.uk
Image © Sinead Millea

Oh, To Be A Mystic, Loving, Queen Warrior!

The Inner Goddess Workshop

This month, Sinéad Nua has brought me to The Inner Goddess Workshop at the Bristol Folk House. I thought, "Ey up (evidently I've turned Yorkshire all of a sudden), haven't heard of this before" so what better reason to try it out? I had no idea what to expect but, boy, was I surprised....pleasantly.

I arrived on a meltingly hot Saturday morning to be greeted by a cheery lady, we'll call her C. 10am arrived along with all of the 13 people booked in, it's a popular workshop so even the 27 degree heat didn't keep them away. I figured this was a positive sign. We began by introducing ourselves and C explained The Great Goddess in Neolithic culture. I'll spare you the details and my typing fingers by giving you the brief run down...
In neolithic times the feminine was revered, women were very powerful, eg giving life & holding intuitive knowledge (without the accusation of being dramatic and emotional, sounds flippin' wonderful doesn't it?!) These matriarchal societies had no weapons, they were peaceful and rational (yes, that's right boys, rational). However the warlike invasion of the modern religions changed all that. The Goddess culture was overthrown, women were vilified and regarded as unclean. Male Gods were worshipped and the rest is (bloody) history.

Some believe that the Goddesses exist in all of us, we each have a Goddess type but not all of us acknowledge her. I can sense the tuts and eyes being raised to heaven as I type but stay with me for a moment. You've heard of personality types right? Well, this is similar. There are four Goddess archetypes and we each have one or more of them in our personalities - Lover, Mystic Maiden, Warrior & Queen. The weakest Goddess in us is called the Missing Goddess and she must not remain neglected! Depending on the archetype and the qualities of the Missing Goddess, there are ways to call her forth. If you're still not with me, they sound like a fun girly night in at least.

So, back in the room, C distributed a Goddess Type Indicator Quiz (© Sharon Turnbull). Some were surprised to see the results. For the record I'm equally Mystic Maiden & Queen and a little bit Warrior. I'm working on the Lover ;)
It was an interesting exercise in recognising qualities in ourselves that we should be proud of, and also, the ones we need to improve on to be more balanced and fulfilled. I'm still to be educated on the spiritual side of this but the personality type bits really rang through for me. It was a wonderful way to get to know myself a bit more. I may or may not find the answers to life's questions by burning incense and candles but referring to this quiz every now and then will surely point out what side of me is being neglected and we all deserve time spent on ourselves right?

Whether or not you think this is hippy nonsense you can't deny there's something there we can all take from it. So I'll leave you with this, "Achieving psychological maturity requires that we reclaim this missing Goddess. To be whole - and thus fulfilled - we must acknowledge those traits we rejected and integrate them into our lives." (C. Campbell). See you at Glastonbury Tor for the next full moon?

http://www.bristolfolkhouse.co.uk/

Image: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Swifnf.jpg

Hardly Har Har

Laughter Yoga

Since starting my project of new experiences, I have felt lovely squishy positivity, inspiration & excitement. New things are always exciting, non? Not necessarily. Now before I go any further these are records of MY experiences and regardless of positive or negative effects on me I am not going to bang on about how crap something is. No regrets, that's what I say. However I am going to be honest in the most unoffensive way.

I set out this evening to a Laughter Yoga Workshop and was greeted with a decent cup of coffee & a plate of biccies which I declined very obediently (pat on the back). I handed over my dosh and was guided upstairs to a room of about 14ish people, all seemed pleasant enough so far. The class began with some loosening out of the muscles, I could do with that after a day in the office. The muscle loosening seemed to go on for for a while. I was left wondering what pearls of expertise had thought this one up...then came the laughter bit. Step one, breath in. Step two, laugh. Are you kidding me?

I had a vague look around the room for a recognisable nod of 'lets go to the pub' (I've learned to decipher that nod over time, it takes skill and practice) but no, everyone seemed to be into it. So, I thought I'd throw my cynicism away in a rather hippylike fashion. "Get out cynicism!", I cried (in my head of course, I didn't want them to think I was completely barking) and went along with it. A few giggles followed but I couldn't shake the feeling that everyone was in on a really hilarious joke - everyone except me. So, I spent the two hour session hobbling around the room & pretending to laugh but, unfortunately for me, found none of it really that funny.

I do accept that perhaps I was missing something because there were regulars there who were having a whale of a time. However I realised at the end of the session that I do laugh enough in my everyday life, which in itself is a great lesson to learn, and I'm grateful that I can, and have a reason to, laugh every day. So, it wasn't my cup of tea but I can see the benefits for those who want to bring out the inner giggler in a judge free environment. I, on the other hand, will be sifting through my Dylan Moran DVDs when I feel the need to bring forth a chuckle.

Vino? Yes!

Anna's Bristol Wine Club

I was, erm, shall we say, 'killing time' on one of my travels through cyberspace when I stumbled upon an interesting post on Gumtree. It was placed by a rather enterprising lady who (like me) wanted to learn something about wine and meet new people. This couldn't be more perfect for my first venture into the social whirlwind that I would soon be rustling up for my little self. So, I left a message and pessimistically wondered if it would just float in e-mail land forever. Hurrah, it got somewhere and I was invited to a wine tasting evening at her house. A fantastic evening of blind tasting ensued where I met some really fab people and shared some funny anecdotes. I wasn't so great at deciphering the wines but, hey ho, it was my first time afterall and, to my relief, there wasn't a wine snob in sight. Surprisingly my favourite wine was the Oyster Bay Marlborough Chardonnay. I say "surprisingly" as it's one I often see but skim past. I've learned to never judge a bottle by it's label. Ah, see, activities featuring alcohol can be educational, oh great! I still have a way to go before I can confidently identify the fermentation process by holding it against a white sheet of paper but it's a start...

http://www.facebook.com/sinead.millea#!/group.php?gid=141619439207926
Image © Sinéad Millea

Intro

The backstory...

NYE 2009 came and went. It was a wicked party (thanks Mel and Lou) however there wasn't anything particularly 'new' about 2010, not for me anyway. I went back to work, the January diet began, I started banging on about the deluded notion of abstaining from alcohol for the month, yadda yadda, you can see where I'm going here. I needed change!

So Jan 1st, a little bleary eyed with the occasional "Oh my god, did I really do THAT?" feeling filtering through I decided on my new year's resolution. Apart from the year I resolved that I wouldn't make a new year's resolution I failed on Jan 2nd every year. Not this year! I was going to run a 10k, sorted! I signed up for the Bristol 10k and train liked a possessed Sonia O Sullivan for the next four months. (And, just incase you're interested, on May 9th 2010, I finished the 10k in 64 minutes and earned myself a medal and the inability to walk for four days.)

But the want for something new didn't end there, following an insightful 4 hours with Matthew Hussey at a Get The Guy seminar in April (www.gettheguy.co.uk) I decided to put the wheels of change in motion, proper like.

I suppose I'd better start with explaining my presence at the seminar shouldn't I? Well, alright then. I'm single and, although I'm having a great time being the only 30 something spinster left in my family (I have a feeling there'll be a glass case in a museum somewhere in Cork with my name on it), I wouldn't mind trying my hand at being a social butterfly.
The seminar was divided into three sections: Find the guy, get the guy & keep the guy. The secret behind getting and keeping all seemed to boil down to being confident, true to yourself & sassy. Great, I think I can handle that. Now, the finding bit, that's where inspiration struck me. I had a moment of clarity - I'm not getting out there and trying new things enough!! The phrase "I've always wanted to.... but..." always came up in one form or another. Excuses, excuses. I felt a challenge coming on.

So, I'm doing something new at least once and, at worst, I'll have a few interesting stories to tell the grandkids...