In my home town

There's no place like home, no matter where I go, there's just something about Cape Town that draws me in and I struggle to escape it's clutches.

From visiting Lion's Head, Signal Hill and Table Mountain, to walking on the beach in Camps Bay and cafeing in Glen Cairn. My family try and entice me to remain. I cannot deny that the people here are absolutely amazing. Strangers help you and the camaraderie is unique, everyone is happy and greets you with a smile. The weather is absolutely fabulous, high twenties and it's WINTER!! Londoners eat your heart out.

But family and friends are my greatest magnet and when I'm here I am not sure how I coped without them at all.

ooooooo Jamie Oliver

White knuckled fists gripped my stomach. I awoke with groans and rumblings. But my memories of Jamie's Italian are completely pleasurable. Breakfast was almost forgotten because of the sheer quantity eaten last night.

Antipasto starter balanced on tomato tins filled the table's centre. Crusty breads dripping with sweet olive oil and balsamic along with large-creamy-fresh-green olives. Order something simple I repeat to myself and order a burger. Amazing tower of freshness and delicious flavours, I almost couldn't finish it, but determined to enjoy the last morsel I forced those last few bites. Dessert was more confusing, each option screamed to be chosen. But when the chocolate brownie arrived it was the envy of the table. Warm and moist, a crunchy amaretto dusted crust accompanied by bourbon vanilla ice cream.

Excellent.

So how are you really doing?

Since living in London, I have answered that question in a variety of ways: just fine, very well, enjoying it. So here's the whole truth.

Tonight I had a long bath. I read a book. I watched TV. In my home with frames and doors that hang at a slant, an inconsequential fireplace, windows that don't open and somewhat imperfectly finished.

Living in East London is mostly delightful, with cosmopolitan inhabitants, I'm always inhaling the sweet, spicy and fragrant, bubbling cooking. Although parks are few, they are well tended, especially suited to young children (of which I have none). There is a wealth of transport, buses on my doorstep (next street) and tube lines are in abundance (our favourite District Line is continually down).

Gazing at the sculptures and paintings at Tate Modern, exploring shopping wonders in Oxford Street, being part of the vibe in Hyde Park or visiting Greenwich and ferrying to London Eye never tires me. Central London has so much to offer that I soak in as much as possible as often as possible.

My pick of international airports Gatwick, Heathrow, Stansted, London City and Luton are at the ready to flutter me off to my next destination. I am looking forward to Greece and Italy...

Fault finding reminds me that going home to Australia is imminent but enjoying all the wonders is absolutely essential.

Growers Market in London

Fresh, raw milk, in its creamy, silky natural state. Thick globs of pure cream floats on my coffee and my five year-old self calling it icecream - so terribly naughty and wonderful. Freshly baked carrot cake and crispy crunchy organic apples.

Friendly faces and lovely, clean, pure air swirls around me as I walk through Marylebone Grower's Market. "I can choose my own eggs?" I ask the vendor, dumbfounded, and smile as I reach to choose gorgeous farm fresh chicken eggs and load my egg boxes. I go back for a second helping to the stall of baked items, then green salad items, watercress and spinach, aubergine, rosemary, leek, cucumber: grocery items deluxe.

I convince my husband to return with me every Sunday after that... I cannot imagine buying these items from a supermarket with its bright florescent lighting and isles of processed, packaged, chemically enhanced goods with it's magnitude of plastic, tin, cardboard and paper that will empty into my trash...

"the twisted heart"

Peeling myself off the lounge, the book drops to the carpet. Finished. Ah the feeling of walking in another's shoes is freeing and it's therapy is deep and long lasting. Rebecca Gowers extends herself in this fictional piece exemplifying life's cruelty amid the beauty of a growing confusing relationship.

I am reading my way through the Europe...

IKEA is a country

Without the privilege of travelling outside your home country, one can have a distorted view of the world. Comparing your quality of lifestyle or the differences in culture through exploration and adventure can give an enhanced awareness of humanity.

I am not speaking from experience however, I have only explored but a tip of the iceberg, if that. True explorers vary the cultures and continents they visit, from South America to Central Africa, Europe and Asia.

I do however, especially pity all those who have not visited the country of IKEA. It owns soil all over the world and offers relief from stress and boredom of normality. No matter where you are from, your currency will have a strong buying power.

The styles in homes of this nation follow rigid patterns, but the inhabitants are arty and creative. They love candles, with sweet scents, like apple & cinnamon pie, or vanilla ice-cream. The food is delicious and very affordable, my favourite delicacy being the Daim Cake.

Leaving IKEA today I carried the customary blue bag filled with a host of curios ready to take me back to my experiences there, like any good tourist.

Monet and Abstraction

What better way to spend a rainy, windy day in Madrid than to visit the art exhibitions featuring Monet and Abstraction? Especially a sleepy Sunday afternoon.

Walking from Anton-Martin Metro, the Thyssen-Bornemisza Museum is worth the effort and €8. It was a 40min wait to enter the exhibition which I spent rummaging through their Art Store, which could be the most well stocked art curio store ever. I ran from curio to book to artwork, while my thoughts screamed, "I want this, I want this!" A is for Rhinoceros by Harriet Russell; the Anti Colouring Book by Susan Striker & Edward Kimmel and a book on how to make books were just some of my favourites. There were material dolls of Picasso and Monet. And some gorgeous jewellery pieces inspired by major artworks. A M A Z I N G

My favourite Monet water-lily artwork? : The water-lily pond 1917-1919, why? The shades, hues, rough application and crudeness of the brush strokes, the variegation, texture and weighting, the vertical and horizontal pull, the way it is both dark and dull but also bright and vibrant. It begins to demonstrate his divergence from his movement into abstraction and the difference from his other water-lily paintings is obvious.

Walking from Sol metro North East along a cobbled road, turning right at the church and then left I reached Fundacion Caja Madrid. Gratis(free). It is the second part of the exhibition and completes the examination of Monet and his links to Abstraction. I particularly enjoyed watching Monet paint in the video by Sacha Guitry, Monet pitando en su jardin de Giverney. Monet's study of his subject was so intense, he stared as his subject and only glanced at his artwork to daub his paintbrush. His was wholly focussed on what he saw.

Gerhard Richter's Abtract artworks were particularly interesting and I would like to have exposed my art class to many of his pieces, the dragging, scraping techniques, always revealing former brighter hues. His paintings have their own glow and emit a light of their own, they show careful composition.

I could sit and enjoy Monet's: Iris amarillos(yellow) for hours.

In the development of the Japanese bridge, it is evident that for Monet the subject doesn't change - he does, perspective, time of day, mood, choice of representation, it's all about choice.

Students ask: So was he just going blind?

I know what I need to attempt