When you look your ex’s mate and you go…
‘you’re quite cute, are you as bigger prick as he was or shall I just give it a go??’
When you look your ex’s mate and you go…
‘you’re quite cute, are you as bigger prick as he was or shall I just give it a go??’
@AliceWalkabout I think you should offer two choices. Money for people who want you to keep it. Money for those who want you to shave it.
@AliceWalkabout would raise more money. My money would go on you keeping it.
@AliceWalkabout whichever raises the most is what happens
@topoftheprops a couple of people have said that, so its a no shave for you? but im a stubbon bugger karl!
@AliceWalkabout I would sponsor a no-shave!
@AliceWalkabout I would pay for you not to! I reckon it would raise more. Worth a thought.
@Just0lly @topoftheprops i love how I may earn more by doing nothing
AliceWalkabout haha, it’s the threat! Like your holding your hair hostage and demanding a ransom #negotiator
@Just0lly too right, it has all the makings of a really bad film
@AliceWalkabout @just0lly easy enough to set up a just giving and say when you donate note if it’s a shave or no shave.
@topoftheprops @just0lly that is the plan! just need to put it in action now, just remember my personal preference #getitalloff
So, who is agreement? You have a choice, a vote – shave or no-shave. When a donation is given, then you can cast your vote. The highest total wins, however a suitable forfeit must be sought if the no-shave comes through – any suggestions?
As mentioned before you all know my preference #getitalloff, but perhaps the choice should be up to you.
I have a niggle, Number 75
Now this is one that no-one is keen for me to accomplish.
I am happy to admit that I am a stubbon pig, and I do love hair. However I now want to shave all of mine off.
Gone, all gone.
The plan is September, sponsored shave at Amersham and Chiltern Rugby Club, and if anyone would like to join in then you are more then welcome to give it a go.
All proceeds will be going to charity, more details to follow.
Until it happens, I will enjoy being a guinea pig for my friend Kate who has set up a fabulous hair service, Milana Hair
This gallery contains 21 photos.
In preparation for the 3 Peaks challenge, about a month ago we went on a training weekend. Inevitably our training weekend deterioated swiftly into a gin and wine evening. We stayed in the most beautful accomodation, Capel Mawr in the village of Llanrug which is a converted chapel. It was 6am in the morning when […]
So the limp has almost gone, I will not miss the references to John Wayne and the pain still remains. But the reason behind that pain was a worthwhile cause and a fantastic weekend.
For everyone that sponsored me, thank you very much!
So how did it go, well I’m afraid I cannot be known as Miss 3 Peaks, rather Miss 2 Peaks as unfortunately I pulled out on the last mountain (certainly not a molehill) I just did not have the grit and determination that Debbie managed to muster, instead I cried like a little girl from the pain.
We departed at the brisk time of 6.30am on our way to Chester, weighed down by walking boots, poles and a delicious bag of goodies put to together by the star Tara, thank you. Upon arriving we dived into a bacon butty and coffee, concerned it would be our last hot meal for a few days. The buses arrived and we made a judgement upon which would suit us best, enter the van manned by Wayne which was the only bus which did not have a speed limit, we figured we would plan in advance. After we collected the other members of the team then we pottered off to Fort William, only another 7 hour drive and arrived to the dingy town – not particularly a tourist hot spot that sits nestled at the base of Ben Nevis. Being the prime athletes that we are we went straight to the pub and ordered ourselves a much needed G&T, ok you caught me, a couple of G&Ts. After downing a couple of drinks in quick succession we headed back to the bunkhouse, to hang outside a door waiting for the football to finish in order to begin our briefing. Mission abandoned we decided on a much better idea, briefing at the pub with food. Haggis, neeps and tatties devoured and briefed up we headed back to the hostel for a nights kip before the big day ahead. I slept like a baby, apologies for those in the same room as me who most definitely didn’t.
Rise and shine, today is the day. It began with Ben. Towering at 1,344m, this Munro was a slog. The highest mountain in the UK, the path up is straightforward yet strenuous, known as the Tourist path and it is clear why as you don’t need much experience to climb it. A steep path was available for much of the mountain before turning into scree and boulders which does make walking a tad more difficult. Due to the time stipulations we pounded up the mountain, averaging 11metres per minute for the first half and unfortunately slowing on the zig zags near the top. As our main focus was speed, we didn’t have a chance to stop and stare at our surroundings, a pity as the view was breathtaking and you really need time to take it in. Towards the very top the mountain was coated in a thick level of snow, so I am glad we had a guide at this point as I had no idea where we were heading and there is dangerous terrain at the very top. Summit achieved, and photos taken as proof we turned around directly in order to begin our descent.
I was fascinated by what appeared to be a wendy house at the very top of the mountain, after querying this with our guide Steve he explained that this was in fact the ruins of a observatory used by meteorologists, and used to be manned by an superintendent and two assistants towards the beginning of the century. Considering that we were there in the summer and it was still icy cold, I really have no idea how they managed in the depths of winter, especially after they carried up their equipment braving gale force winds.
In order to keep to our timings we decided that the best route down the mountain was to run. And so the sprint began, and the knee shunt happened. Ouch, but we continued hobbling/running down. Good time made and we leapt back in the bus in order to complete the first driving leg of our journey.
During the drive we were subject to an enforced stop at the services so that our driver could have a break, a welcome relief from the confines of our car and the chance to grab a hot meal. Service fish and chips has ever tasted so good. We were still on track for the 24 hour timeframe so we began Scarfell Pike in good spirits.
Scarfell is in the Lake District and is only 978m, but it was certainly a challenge. Due to high rainfall earlier in the day the mountain rivers were all high and paths were covered in icy water, the drizzle continued throughout our walk. We began in the light and made the summit in daylight, although I did have a sugar crash about 15 mins from the top, cue standing still and shoving sweets into my mouth. But I made it by inching up to the top, thank you everyone for keeping me going at this point as I collapsed at the top. Trail mix devoured and top changed as the other was soaked through we began our descent.
Scarfell is technically a more difficult mountain, and there were some sections where you are literally climbing and inching along rock faces. This made us somewhat nervous as we knew the descent would be in the dark, completed by the light of our head torch. Myself and another were slow on the descent, knees somewhat crippled and so we proceeded to slow everyone down. It got dark very quickly and the weather made it quite treacherous, I remember feeling so cold that I just wanted to sit down, but that was certainly not an option, we needed to keep moving. Our guide was calm, but we could hear rising tension in his voice and after about 6 ½ hours he asked to pause. An enlightening moment when we realise that we were slightly lost, but he got us back on track shortly after.
Typically Scarfell should be climbed within 5 hours in order to stay on track to meet the 24 hour limit, but we were on that mountain for 7 ½ hours. When we made it to the bottom, despondent but glad to be back within a warm van Wayne commented that we looked like we had just finished a challenge with the SAS. Our timings were shot to pieces, however I am glad we found our way back safely to the bottom, and at least unlike another group we did not get lost at the top and have to be picked up by a later one.
The drive to Snowdon was a cold one and by the time we arrived it was light, so we missed dawn break at the top of Snowdon. Still we wanted to climb the third mountain standing at 1085m, even if we hadn’t managed the time period we still wanted to accomplish the 3 peaks. I had every intention of doing so. We set off along the Miners Path, an easy beginning before a steep scramble. I enjoyed the beginning section, although I immediately began lagging behind, relying heavily on my poles and using them more as walking sticks.
The miners path takes you past some lovely scenic lakes and it was a brisk early morning walk. Then I hit the climb, I can cope with the pain on the way down the mountain as you are aware that you are on the homeward stretch and you can count down the times. However when I began hobbling up in pain, stabbing needles behind the knee, I made the decision that I would turn around and head back. Not the easiest decision to make, especially as I waved off the rest of the group but the correct one for me. I managed to let out most of my frustrations on a tearful journey back, so Miss 2 Peaks I shall be. A couple of hours later, the rest of the group hobbled down, with looks of steely determination on their faces and all limping but rejuvenated. Congratulations my 3 Peaks Colleagues!
Total completion time was 28 hours. Memories that will last a lifetime and money raised for an incredible cause, Mind.
I have mentioned previously that mental health is a subject that is dear to my heart as I have a close family member that suffers, in actual fact 1 in 4 will experience a mental health problem in any given year.
Mind provides information and advice when needed, to those who are dealing with mental health issues and those who are directly or indirectly affected by them. Sometimes all you need to do is talk to someone, to receive honest advice and they operate help lines that facilitate legal advice and someone on the end of a phone to just talk if you call their info line. Plenty more information is available on their site, www.mind.org.uk/
‘A few words can make a big difference’ To someone’s life, decisions, relationships or even to convince them to do something worthwhile.
Once again, thank you so much to everyone who has donated, if you would still like to give then please follow the link http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/AliceEdwards
And in case your interested, then yes I will do it again, I never like to leave something part completed but on this occasion I am pretty proud of how it went! Who’s up for the next one?!
On Saturday 10th March 2012 with bags packed I jumped on a plane to Bangkok from Heathrow.
Upon arrival I jumped straight in a taxi and headed to Buddy Lodge (Wish the taxi’s back home were just as cheap). Buddy Lodge provided me with a place to rest my head and a shower. Jeez, I was excited about that shower. accommodation was clean, rooms secure but a tad overpriced. It’s location was fantastic, right on Khoa San Road.
I only had one evening to explore and was due to catch a 2pm flight the next afternoon. however after chatting to Livvy I discovered the last ferry to Phi Phi would leave before I arrived in Krabi. With that in mind, a plan was formulated; turn up at the airport at 4am the next morning and beg them to change my flight.
As a result I wouldn’t get a chance to explore the culture of Bangkok, this one night had to be a good one, Khao San Road is chaos! You have market street vendors jostling with tourists and selling a vast selection of wares. The street market is absolutely fantastic, I had a delicious Pad Thai from the smiliest woman I have ever met, the mouth is watering at the thought now.
After wandering up the street for 40 mins I took one of the tuk tuk drivers up on his offer of a sex show, a rather strange conversation, you don’t often get a man shouting “SEX SEX” at you in the middle of a street. I had been messaging LIvvy whilst walking up and down Khoa San Road debating the merits of going to one, the conversation went as follows:
Me: “Would it be weird to go and see a ping pong show on my own?”
Livvy: “No, F**king GO!!
Me: “Right, decision made. I am on way in tuk tuk, like some weird English creep”
Sitting on the back of a tuk tuk with the wind blowing straight through you, I just kept thinking how alive I felt. No concerns, no inhibitions it was such a freeing feeling. Once I arrived, I handed over my 600 baht and went to see what Bangkok is renowned for – the infamous Ping Pong show.
Picture the scene… a grimy, small, darkly lit room, cramped with a collection of inquisitive backpackers, sex tourists and local Thai men. Shania Twain was blasting out of the speakers and there was a small dance floor at the far end. The focal point of the room, surrounded by chairs facing inwards was a square raised stage. On each corner there was a pole and in the middle a couple was having sex – I had caught the end of the show, the climax point as such.
I headed to the bar, collected my beer with my entry token and latched onto a group of 3 English lassies, I was ready to watch the show.
It began with the ping pong balls.
A jug was placed at one end and the lady on stage began shooting ping pong balls into it. I think you can guess where she was shooting them from?!
What followed was an eclectic mix of vagina tricks and for each new trick, a new girl would take the stage.
Long pieces of fabric were pulled out of nether regions and wrapped around poles
Whoosh … candles were blown out
Pop … Flying darts flew at balloons
How on earth do they manage to do this? Is there a warm up technique for muscles? Stretching?
Colour was changed in water bottles (a nifty use of food colourants)?
Whistles were blown
Culminating in the grand finale…. The sex show
It is not a sexual experience but fascinating to watch. I have yet to meet a man before who could spin upside down with legs splayed on two poles supporting the entire weight of a woman. This is sex tourism and was my first introduction to it.
The ladies participating did look melancholy whilst on stage, before each act they performed an awkward 30 second dance, slow gyrations of the hips and they looked most uncomfortable whilst doing so. Sex tourism is renowned in Thailand, ironic considering it is apparently illegal to own a vibrator. Thailand has a rife sex trade and there is plenty that can be said about the trade and the tragic lives of the woman involved, but the serious thoughts can occur at a later stage.
After the show ended I jumped back in the tuk tuk to head back to Khao San Road. The driver, Jim, decided to get into a hair-raising race with another driver on the return trip. Thai drivers tend to have no regard for road laws anyway. Speed limits don’t exist, nor does lane changing etiquette apply. In a taxi, it is gut wrenching, in a tuk tuk racing through busy streets it is terrifying, hilarious but terrifying.
I headed straight back to the hotel on once I had safely arrived on Khao San Road as I had to be up in 3 hours. Another shower later, bliss, I settled down to sleep. However I was wide awake at 2.30am, the wonders of jet lag. I checked out, caught a taxi back to the airport, on wards to the next destination. It was a pity I didn’t get to spend more time in Bangkok, the city seems so alive, it is infectious.
Brisbane airport doesn’t have all that much going for it. Granted it is clean and their coffee shops are still open at 11.30pm but it just doesn’t have enough to while away 10 hours of waiting.
The waiting period… monotonous, dull and brain sapping. The waiting period never seems that when you are departing for an exciting destination, then I tend to be geared up in quiet anticipation and I don’t mind the long stretches. However when I am waiting to board a plane to take me home, the hours seem to stretch on forever.
However I am 7 hours in to my 10 hour stretch so I suppose this is the last leg of the journey.
The final leg of a journey that has taken me to Thailand to celebrate the big dog Livvy’s 21st in the paradise of Phi Phi island and also to Australia to enjoy an overdue catch up with family and friends. Who knew that 3 weeks would pass so quickly? I counted down the days until this trip, wished that the agonizingly slow hours spent daydreaming at my desk would dissappear and that I would be transported directly to Heathrow so that I could escape reality.
There is nothing quite like escaping reality, losing your inhibitions as you dance until sunrise in paradise or debate the merits of green card marriages in a shed with a stubby full of Tooheys New.
I needed this trip to get to know myself again, to re-evalute the path I am on and to get raging drunk with no concerns for the consequences.
Thank you to all those who have made this trip so special, who let me so openly into their lives once again. I once wrote in the nanny diaries that I would be back, I stood by that promise and I will again. When I step off the plane in Australia I know that I have arrived home, one day it will be, until then I will satisfy myself with daydreams and sitting whiling away the days in the English countryside.
But I assure you I will be back!
Until then, there are stories aplenty. To wet the appetite, masterfully created by the big dog herself Livvy, the trailer….
I had a sudden realisation whilst sat at my desk today dunking my biscuit that in just over 2 weeks time I will have landed in Thailand. My lovely ginger nut biscuit began to lose its taste as I looked down and realised that my winter spread has multiplied as of late. In two weeks time I will be in Thailand, amazing. In two weeks time I will be in a bikini… GASP!
This should really give me a kick up the ass but it hasn’t. I am certainly not a front cover beauty but I am confident that any concerns about my beach body will quickly evaporate as soon as I step off the plane. What is the point of worrying when you are heading to paradise?
Besides, I play prop now… so I need some bulk behind me
This gallery contains 19 photos.
Family. The stagettes. Take a group of women, give them one ball, one pitch and gear them up for a smash.
England is picture perfect at the moment, snow transports you back to childhood and can pick you up on the bleakest of days.
I better start researching because I do not know much Thailand, so I am looking forward to getting to know the country. The best bit, I get to catch up with the legendary Livvy who is turning 21!
This leading lady has been my best friend since we were just a tad younger. Actually 11 years old, with attitude at the new BIG school. Livvy travelled away to Dublin for my Birthday, so it’s only right I return the favour. What better way to spend your birthday than sunning on a beach in Thailand, I cannot wait to see her and celebrate the carnage.
Just to reminisce.. the last trip we had away together
9 days with my leading lady and then I jump back on the plane to head to Sydney.
This is where I get to see the family, spend time on the farm. See how big the cheeky rascal Danny has got, giggle with Monie and act as beer bitch for TJ. Chill out on back deck with a Tooheys, Chardonnay and the Sudoku. Jump around in the grass with Ernie. Wander down to the arena and watch Rhoo ride. Get to meet the newest addition to the family and act as beer bitch to Jase.
I cannot wait to see friends and family. I get to shrug off the cares of the world, and for three weeks I get to escape. There is no better place to do that than in Thailand and Australia, the countdown begins….