Confessions Of A New Zumba Instructor

After many months of saying I would, I've started teaching Zumba!

I watched the Facebook Zumba cover group for job postings but they usually get covered fast. Luck finally came my way when I got my first cover job not far from home.

I got to the location 10 minutes early with the teaching essentials: Ipad, sweat towel, drink bottle and Megaboom speaker. (I'm paranoid about not connecting to the sound system). 

I had butterflies in my stomach but when I got to the front of the class, there was no time to overthink. I pushed through with teaching the class.

The class ended with most people happy, I think. A few I could tell weren't having the best time. The studio was so hot the windows fogged up. I received some positive feedback and one person said she would ask the manager to bring me back.

I walked away a happy chick. Felt proud of pulling off my first professional teaching gig. The next day I went to my local gym and got in contact with the co-ordinator. They were looking for cover and I got my next job which was brilliant because the gym is a 5 minute walk away and the facilities are lovely. 

A strange thing happened in class-a lady stopped me mid track to ask me to face the mirror. It caused the class to stop. I saw a girl roll her eyes and guessed that this lady doesn't usually exercise her patience of all things.

My next cover was back at the first gym and I made the mistake of doing a Zumba class beforehand. When I started to teach, I realised I didn't have the energy to do verbal cues or pump up the class. I just wanted it to be over so I smiled through the exhaustion. No one left feedback afterwards. Oh well, it was a learning experience. Lesson: reserve energy to teach.

Recently I taught a double class which was a last minute job. Had to repeat the playlist in the second class. I planned to prepare different playlists but found out I needed an aux cable two hours before the class. 

I rushed to the shops and bought a cable from Poundland. I wasn't sure if it was the right one so I bought two other cables and a power bank from Maplin. On the last item, my phone battery died and I needed the location of the class. Lesson 2: carry a charged power bank.

The cost was more than what I'm paid to teach a class. Lucky I had a wall charger and got to charge my phone for a bit near the tube station. It turned out the £1 cable was the right one. Lesson 3: carry a 3.5mm aux cable and 6.35mm adaptor.

I must be doing something right because the next day the manager asked me to take on three regular classes a week. I still have lots to learn about teaching but it's progress!

Time Machine Moments In Bad Gastein

Grant and I discovered a gem of a Austrian restaurant on our ski holiday. It's so quaint and cosy, you feel like you're staying in a friend's ski chalet.

It's small-world charm is something we want to preserve so I won't mention it's name. But you will find it in Bad Gastein as it has a witch on it's roof. Just don't be like a tourist in there. Be like a friend of the hosts and you will have a true Austrian experience. 

The place is in a wooden hut next to the main bus stop of Bad Gastein but you wouldn't know it's a restaurant until the "open" sign is illuminated at night. The sandwich board outside only names 6 Austrian dishes with no English translation. You can't see what it looks like inside because the windows are sealed up at the front.

When we decided to take a chance on this place, I warned Grant if it's a dingy smoke filled pub, we're walking out. He opened the door and we were relieved to see a bar with a tiny kitchen. There were a few counter tables, two booth tables and 1 family table. The place was appropriately decorated with alpine paraphernalia. There was no one smoking which is a blessing as in Austria, smoking indoors is still allowed. 

Grant and I were welcomed by a tall and brawny chap who's real name is Hans. He's the owner and we presume he's lived in Bad Gastein for many years. There was a picture of his younger self in the drinks menu. He sings with a baritone voice as he serves the tables and would regularly chat with the customers.

We ordered a beer and a tap water from a blonde lady (his wife) dressed in an Austrian traditional outfit. The couple were the only staff until 9pm so we waited a while for our drinks. When we asked for the menu, the response from the lady was "the chief will come".

When "the chief" showed up, he spoke no English but cheerfully gestured the foods he had on offer, like spare ribs (action: holding and nibbling invisible ribs) and deer goulash (action: horns on forehead). When it sounded like he would decide our meals for us, we just went with it and said "but just for one person" in case it wasn't to our taste.

Again there was a wait but we enjoyed the warm atmosphere and Austrian music playing in the background. It's the type of music you'd gaily swing a beer stein to. We had no idea what would land on our table until he presented a mountain of ribs to the large party next to us, making sure we were watching.

We gave him a thumbs up. It all looked delicious. Cutlery, napkins showed up to our table and then he gave us a generous portion of spare ribs with roasted waxy potatoes and sauerkraut. And a jug of pan juice gravy on the side. Had we gone to heaven?

The ribs were so tender. There was enough food for four people and we finished the lot. When the bill arrived we expected them to charge for two but as we asked, they charge for one portion. They must have really wanted us to enjoy the ribs!

They bid us farewell when we when we left. The wooden door closed behind us and the music stopped. We were now standing on a dead quiet street with no signs of life. What just happened? Had we ventured into a time machine? 

We knew from travelling that we shouldn't go back to the same place, even if it was outstanding. We usually end up disappointed. We resisted the next night and unwittingly had a mediocre dinner elsewhere. The following night we just wanted to go back into our time machine.

I ordered the steak and Grant had the goulash. It was out of this world. I never expected the food could be so good from such a tiny unassuming place and it wasn't even packed with customers. My steak was done perfectly, I think it was a fillet. And it came with those lovely waxy potatoes. Best steak I've had in a long long time.

The bill came out a little pricer than expected but it was totally worth it for the food. We paid up and blonde lady brought three shot glasses to the table and poured out hazelnut schnapps. We took the shots together before we left. 

Again when the wooden door closed behind us, we were out on the cold silent street. The evening was as amazing as the first time. We had to go back for our final night in Bad Gastein.

That evening the place was full as it was a Friday night. But the chief and wife still welcomed us in. We waited awkwardly at first as there was no place for us to sit. The chief spoke to a party who let us sit with them, ensuring us that it was fine to do.

We sat down and said hello to our four table mates. I thought with the language barrier, we would have our own conversations but one of them struck a conversation with us in English and then we were all talking.

The four were from Germany, coming to ski together every two weeks. They have been visiting the area for 20 years and know the chief well, ever since he worked in a ski resort behind a bar. They spoke good English and knew how to have a good laugh. We felt lucky to have gotten to know them and they made an effort to make us feel welcome. Every now and then the chief dropped by to chat, sing or randomly say: "I love you baby" with a deep Austrian accent. The guys joked that it was the only English he knew.

The men ordered the spare ribs for dinner. Grant and I wanted something different. I asked for the kasespatzle (cheese noodles) and grant wanted the schnitzel. The look on the chief's face was of disappointment. He wanted us all to have the spareribs. I didn't think we would get the meals we asked for. But Grant and I just went with things, trusting it will all turn out.

Surprisingly we got the meals we ordered. The men let us try their semmelnudle, or bread dumplings.  Again the food was excellent and we knew would be dreaming about it for the weeks to come.

Grant got a fun scolding from the chief for using a fork instead of a spoon to scrape the crusty cheese from the pan.

After the meal a large party of apres skiers came in and we were asked to move tables. The men had already met them earlier at another pub so I think it was a queue for us to leave. We said our goodbyes and made our way to the door.

The chief, who must had known it was our last night shook Grants hand as farewell. He said a lot of stuff in German which we could only assume were kind words. He took my hand, touched my cheek and kissed my forehead about ten times. 

It was a happy goodbye and no doubt we will come back to our time machine of Bad Gastein.

Fake Oral-B Toothbrush Heads!

As I'm typing this, I'm nursing a cut inside my lip. When I brushed my teeth my Oral B toothbrush pinched inside my mouth and made me bleed. It was painful. It's still painful!

That's never happened to me before so I googled "Oral B brush cut mouth" and realised the brush heads I bought from Ebay are counterfeit. 

The bristles were harder than usual. I've been using the one on the left for almost two months and none of the bristles have faded like they should with the genuine brushes. As you can see on the left, the plastic in the centre of the head has broken away. This causes the brush to loosen and wobble. On the right is a new counterfeit brush with the centre intact.

 Check out the gap. The head has come loose and will catch the inside of your mouth when you brush. This is going straight into the bin!

This is the front view of the brush. They came in packs of 8 under the "Precision Clean" model. Each brush head is individually packed and hot-glued onto a piece of card. 

The toothbrushes came from an Ebay listing which had the pictures as below. When I messaged the seller, I was told that they couldn't refund me because the 3 month period to cancel the transaction on Ebay expired. Its' a shame but hopefully through this post I can save others from making the same mistake.

Crocheting And A Hack For Sore Fingers

I've taken up crocheting as a new hobby. I learnt the basics as a kid but never made anything I could actually wear. There wasn't anyone around how could teach me beyond the very basics. Fast forward to now where any can learn about anything on Youtube. 

After watching video tutorials on how to make a granny blanket, I ordered a stack of cotton yarn, a set of knitting needles and a crochet hook. The knitting needles are for a scarf project for later, although I might have missed the boat on wearing it before it gets warm.

This is the beginning of my granny blanket for my sister. It's a mindless project which I find relaxing. I just love working on the blanket in silence as I get to think alot. 

I've learnt to check my row at every corner as I've had unravel half an hour's work twice when I realised I've missed stitches. So annoying when that happened but the OCD in me wanted to make sure the blanket was perfect. 

I've worked out a hack for sore fingers when crocheting, whether it's pressure from the hook (as I hold mine like I'm writing) or burns from the yarn. I cut off a leg of old pantyhose, roughly 20 cms long and knot the ends together. You want to loop to be big enough to comfortably wrap twice over your fingers as pictured. Voila, protective cushioning that takes less than 10 seconds to make!

Back To Scotland

I flew to Edinburgh for a friend's birthday party. Snow was blowing (not falling!) when I arrived and I couldn't wait to warm up in the room before hitting the town. After enduring the snow, rain and Edinburgh's famous steep hills for 24 hours, I walked to the castle before my train to Aviemore.

I was rained on. I was tired of lugging my backpack. It was heaven putting it down on the train. That trip was one of my most pleasant journeys because I had four seats to myself in first class. I watched it get snowier as we headed into the Highlands.

Unfortunately I didn't sleep well in Aviemore. I was on the couch and the wind was howling all night. The next morning the snow melted away. It was so windy the ski fields were closed so we visited the nearby village of Carrbridge. We did some hiking but the rain was too much for me. My umbrella broke and my boots leaked. 

The stream that runs through the famous bridge was gushing muddy rapids. We found refuge in a pub where there was a cosy fireplace and we watched the snow fall outside. 

The next day we did a tour of the Cairngorm Brewery. I learned a lot about beer making and tasted 10  of their beers. We even got to stick our heads into a giant vat to check out the yeast. 

However without the excitement of skiing, I missed home and couldn't wait to get on the plane back to London. Scotland is indeed a much different place. It's a little too quiet for me in winter time. If it weren't for the fireplaces, I would not know where else to find respite from the unforgiving weather.

Skiing In Cairngorm Of The Scottish Highlands

It was a nip in, ski, nip out trip to Scotland. While the ski fields are not the first choice for seasoned snow bunnies, I made the most of the two days visiting friends working at Cairngorm ski resort, (pronounced "Carin-gorm"). 

My Inverness flights were cheap, in fact they cost as much as the train transfers. My final destination was a small town called Aviemore, 45 mins south of Inverness. 

Arriving in the city of Inverness after 5pm was a drag. It was cold, rainy and I had time to kill before my train to Aviemore. I saw two fights on the street. I'm sure there's more to Inverness aside from the river. 

In Aviemore I warmed up to my friend's fireplace and that's what I fell asleep to as I was on the couch anyway. Nothing replaces the blissful ambience and crackle of a wood burning fire. I could watch the flames burn all night.

I heard winds howling the next morning and decided not to have an early start in the ski field. Plus the sun didn't rise until 8.30am. 

We took a bus to Cairngorm ski resort, half an hour away from the town. It was a winter wonderland as we passed a frozen lake, Siberian huskies (training for a sledding competition) and a quaint little snow town.

The weather was cloudy and on the mountain, winds were up to 56km an hour. They picked up the snow and caused delays with the funicular to the top station. The train leaves every 15 minutes and normally takes 5 mins to get to the top. However twice we were held up due to the tunnel being backed up with snow. 

There were a few closed runs because of low snow coverage. The winds were so strong, we had to push ourselves downhill or we got propelled like sailboats. The red runs White Lady and M1 were my favorites as they are wide open and powdery. 

It's worth mentioning that food on the mountain is fairly priced. I had a burger with chips (GBP 8) and best of all, the cheese came grilled and melted over the patty! So crusty and delicious. 

After lunch it got darker and the wind picked up speed. Visibility on one side of the mountain was terrible and it was painful taking a t-bar with snow whipping on my face. Thankfully we got a few good runs down the other side before calling it a day. 

There was good snow at Cairngorm but as conditions change quickly, a tip is to make plans last minute. As it was relatively low altitude compared to say, the Alps, Cairngorm is heavily dependant on favourable weather. Is it comparable to Austrian and French ski fields? Definitely not. There are only T bars and pommel lifts to get you around the mountains. It's a small ski field. It's possible to ski all the runs in one day if you were an expert skier. 

We missed our bus to Aviemore so my friend, familiar with hitching culture within the ski field, asked a stranger in the car park for a lift. I was dumbfounded as I've never "hitched hiked" but my friend assured me that it was a very normal thing to do and people are really friendly here. 

Our driver was a Romanian snowboard instructor who kindly dropped us off in Aviemore. We then went to a recreation club to relax in a heated pool, spa and steam room. 

We retired at home with a ready made pizza and roasted marshmallows over the fireplace. I think I might have turned into a pyromaniac as I kept the fire roaring all night.

The next morning it was raining. I was told lot of the snow had melted in Cairngorm so the lift staff were told to go home. My friends and I went for a walk through the town and hiked to see a couple of lochs. The countryside was beautiful albeit soggy and freezing.

It was time to fly back to London. I was in Highlands for less than 48 hours but that's ok. I maxed out what could be done in the poor weather. I hope to come back for a full weekend trip!

The Return To London

I'd been dreading it but my Sydney hiatus came to an end. I got on the plane and stopped over in Singapore. This time is was only for 6 hours. I wasn't feeling well when I landed. The heat and queueing at passport control was debilitating. After making it to the comfort of my friend's house and meeting their new family member, I recovered in time for the next leg of my flight...

...to cold and grey London. This is the worst time to come back but thankfully I don't have a job to rush back to. For a week I was feeling blue and lonely. Grant was still in New Zealand. My depression was due to lack of sunshine and I missed my life in Sydney. 

I went to my Saturday gym classes and realised I needed my Zumba family. I missed them so much. The workout hit me hard and I was out of form. We had a catch up lunch after and for the first time I felt glad to be back in London.

When Grant returned, I finally felt 100% at home. While London's not the best place to live, we have each other and our home. I felt out of place without him.

Thanks to jet lag I've been waking up at 5am. One time, I woke up to snow. By sunrise most of it had melted. Hope the snow keeps coming.