So I Went to Berlin and...

... Ate cake the size of my face:

Co-invented Treslechesblaubeerrosemarmeladehaselnusssahnekuchen:

Saw some funny stuff:

Saw some powerful stuff:

And drank some girly beer:

And again, like in Australia, nothing particularly crazy happened. I even had a free seat next to me on the flight home. There was one small weird (or rather uncomfortable) moment on public transport though, on the bus to Schoenefeld airport: I was sitting directly opposite a young French couple, close enough so out knees were touching, and they were pretty much eating each other's faces for the whole journey. I stared to resolutely out of the window that I had a crick in my neck by the time the bus reached the airport.

Other than that, it really does seem like the truly bonkers stuff only happens to me when I'm on home ground. Interesting...

So I Went to Australia and...

... Nothing happened.

Well. Lots of things happened. I went to my cousin's wedding:

Went to the Blue Mountains:

Cuddled some kangaroos:

Saw some fun fish:

... And of course, did touristy things:

But you know what the really odd thing is? Nothing, well, odd, happened to me during during any of the ten (well, eight, since two whole days were lost through travel) days Down Under. In fact, this is a trend I seem to face whenever I go abroad: weird things don't follow me on holiday. Except for one time quite a few years ago where food poisoning literally nearly killed me (don't forget: salads are washed in local water), nothing really happens to me.

Must be a British thing.