Huge fist pump...

Sadly I wasn't able to be there (see previous whingeing posts) but last night not only did I win the Newspaper Story of the Year I also, by some odd combo of madness and luck, took out the CATHAY PACIFIC TRAVEL WRITER OF THE YEAR!!!!! Click here to read the media release. 

Yes, I almost needed the smelling salts when they told me.

Thank you to the judges, Travcom and, of course, Cathay Pacific for giving me lots of lovely moolah and a  trip to Hong Kong which just happens to be one of my favourite places on the planet.

If I wasn't still feeling so ruff, I'd be breaking out the bubbly about now...

(Pic credit: Google Images)    

Epic fail

This is the tangle of sparkly goodness I was planning to wear tonight to the Travcom NZ Travel Writers Awards.

Sadly, it is still hanging in my wardrobe in Wellington. My seat on the flight to Auckland, which should be cradling my buttocks at this very minute, is empty.

Yes, the lurgy foiled my valiant attempts to put it back in its box where it belongs. Here's a tip: don't combine Paracetamol and Ibuprofen for quick results, it only makes the contents of your stomach reappear.

If anyone needs me, I will be doing laps of the self pity pool. Perspective Police, please hurry up and get over here.
   

Things to be thankful for today

• Paracetamol
• Lemon, honey and ginger
• Central heating
• Ugg Boots
• Understanding colleagues
• Doggie hugs.

I am talking myself better and am determined to fly north, put on my party pants and have a great time tomorrow night. Wish me luck.

(Pic credit: Google Images)

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Sickness has inserted itself into one of the biggest weeks of my year.

Tuesday afternoon I fly to Auckland for the Travcom Awards, Monday, Thursday and bits of Tuesday and Wednesday will be filled in with the day contract and evenings will be spent in a frantic blur of cleaning and running around town to pick up flowers and props for the cover photo shoot at ours for Your Home & Garden Magazine on Friday morning. And next Sunday it's someone's birthday.

The last thing I need right now is flu tugging at my eyelids, making my limbs feel like lead and my brain like warm scrambled eggs. Go away germs, there's no room for you this week.

Sadly, the deadlines don't stop because the virus circus is in town; I am currently tucked up in bed with my laptop, notes and more paracetamol than is advisable.

No time for images so here's a couple of the Boy Wonder taken earlier this year...

DIY Cheese In Welly

My first ever Forbes travel post is live! Click here to read.

Thanks to the lovely Donna from Feast and Vine for the heads up.

WTF??

Today I spent an hour interviewing an exceedingly lovely professor about his research, He was staggeringly smart, but humble and keen to avoid jargon and pretension. Afterwards, while waiting for the lift, I heard the following conversation:

Female student on the phone: "My sister tried to kill herself yesterday. I was going to visit her last night, but I was too hung over. I thought about going tonight but it's two for one drinks at the student bar."

Seriously? Be afraid, people, because these are the folk who will one day lead our nation, and our world...

Some light relief, because I think we need it after that. Images of these gorgeous woofers are from Tumblr.

      

Getting it back

There's a slightly hippy idea that the universe sends you things at exactly the time you need them.

I'm not sure how much I subscribe to that belief but , like most things in life, I'm prepared to give it a whirl.

Today, I had an interview scheduled with the brilliant British writer Neil Cross (writer of nine crime novels, and TV shows such as Spooks and the gruesomely brilliant Luther) that I wasn't really looking forward to. Since returning from Korea a month ago, I've been playing catch-up. Not, as it turns out, very successfully as I'm sailing close to the wind with a couple of deadlines and constantly rescheduling interviews to fit a stupidly overwrought schedule (of my own making, of course. Put it down to the freelancer's curse of having to take work while it's there, lest it dries up tomorrow).

Whingeing aside, I didn't have the time or energy to schlep to an outer suburb of Welly, find out why Cross writes the things he does and then spend precious hours transcribing my tape and writing 2,200 sparkling, interesting words. But then the universe sent me one of the most engaging - and engaged - interview subjects I've had in a long time. There was tea, lots of it, and biscuits and all manner of anecedotes - from having lunch with Harrison Ford to how he comes up with increasingly inventive ways to hurt, kill and maim. Being from Bristol, we also spent time swapping stories about the city.  

And now, thank god, Shazza has her writing groove back on...

(Photo credit: stuff.co.nz)