HAPPY WEDNESDAY!!!

Here's a little suttin suttin I actually recorded a week ago when I was in the middle of THE MOST inspiring week.

You know some days when you just wake up and you're like yeah, everything's gonna be ok. I'm not  perfect, the world's not perfect but perfection is a myth and fuck it, I'm happy so I'm gonna sprinkle that happiness onto everyone.

That's the kind of mood I was in, and it lasted ALL WEEK.

Then then this week I'd tired myself out by being so happy and things took a bit of a dip on Tuesday so I wallowed like a melodramatic wallower before tackling a
situation  and waking up today
LOVING LIFE AGAIN.

The relevance of this picture: St Patrick's Day
Be happy for the Irish and their sexy voices!

Because of this, I'm reclaiming Wednesdays. They get a bad rep for being that mid-week day when everyone's just waiting for the weekend to arrive. But when I was talking to a friend recently he made the very good point that time is just in our heads. After pay-day comes and the resulting elation you feel begins to dwindle sooner every month until you get a pay rise/new job and the cycle starts again, people are just counting the days until the month is over and they can breathe again.

How depressing. That we're counting each day to go by until we can relax by either 'living for the weekend' which seems to have been translated into 'get as wasted as possible and try to shake the resulting hangovers by the time work comes round again' or getting more money.

So... Fuck money. Fuck the idea that relief and release depends on something outside of your control. Be happy in being here, living life, having the opportunities that are available to you and be grateful. Spread some love and joy and happiness around you when you've got some to spare because even if you spend a little more effort smiling at someone you don't know, they might need that smile. They might really appreciate that little bit of human connection that doesn't cost you anything. And you'll feel better for it too!

So yeah, HAPPY VIBES ALL AROUND Beautiful people!!!

The Gigantic Beard That Was Evil....

OK so I am the first person to admit I have 'geek like' tendencies. In fact, my favorite purchase this month was my Marvel shorts (yes Primark).

So when I found out a graphic novel had been adapted to the screen by Bristol Old Vic I was first in line to go and check it out for BBC Bristol.

Performed by the Bristol Old Vic Young Company, it was funny and showed maturity beyond the collective's years. Clever observations of adults in the workplace - they zoned in on the mundane, confusing world of office
work.

Anyone that has worked at an office knows that really, no-one knows what the hell is going on. You walk in, push some papers, sit in a few meetings, and leave wondering what you actually did to earn the money that's going to pay your rent.

The Gigantic Beard That Was Evil turns this world on its head after main character Dave grows a huge unmanageable beard. Scruffiness is blasphemy in this clean, proper, paper pushing world.

Adapted from this graphic novel by The Young Company, it was very impressive to see the meaty characters that were discovered through cast's humorous improvisations.

So many themes interwove in this story, the most prominent to me being how society views Death; as something to be feared instead of accepted.

Then the lengths people will go to in order to remove something that doesn't quite 'fit in'; ostracizing instead of accepting.


Here is a small audio package that was put together by myself after the play.



A huge thank you to Stephanie Kempson (Director) and Kathleen Fitzpatrick Milton (Assistant Director/Assistant Music Director) for talking to me after the production as well as the cast: Julia Head, Joshua Robinson, Esther Lawrence and Elliot Winter.

Here's an unedited rendition of 'Here' which was the theme for the piece sung beautifully by the actors.



Looking forward to my next visit where I'll be watching Abulations...

Colombia, I miss ya

It´s been quite hard for me to write about Colombia because I have so many different feelings about it. There are positives and negatives and in a lot of ways I feel like it was my pheonix moment. I sank my furthest anad rose my highest. I think out of everywhere I travelled in South America, it was Colombia where I really learnt something about life, and not just myself. It was a place where I was able to stay somewhere without judgement and expectation, and really look at who I was, what I offered, what I took away, and who I wanted to be.

I will never stop feeling blessed at being welcomed into a family that housed me, and fed me, and included me for four months. The genorosity and base goodness in people was shown to me in Bogotá, and I miss my Colombian family every day.

It´s hard to pin point exactly what I did in Colombia because really I just lived. I went and did the tourist thing for the first two weeks, met some wicked lifelong friends, partied, and then went and got a job teaching English for four months. The whole thing was pretty surreal. Anyone that´s been to Colombia would tell you that Bogotá is not the cream of the crop in terms of location. The weather is madness-summer in the morning, torrential rain in the afternoon, normally followed by fog, and then blistering cold at night time. It´s true what they say, Bogotá has every season in one day. I was lucky enough to start my stay in the summer months which span December-February...but after that the weather showed its true colours. I got caught in a storm with not enough on more than once.

Not to say Bogotá dosn´t have its good points, the old city is beautiful. Alegria´s hostel, which I stayed in during my tourist moments, was an amazing old house with old wood that had a lovely homely feel. I´ve recommended it to all travellers. It´s where I met four awesome Americans, a couple of Irish lasses, a mouthy Northerner, and a London chick who kidnapped me and took me to San Gil before worklife reality kicked in.

It was hard making friends in Bogotá though, it has to be said. The language barrier was...well, a barrier but also in hindsight, I was working through some personal things. It's only on reflection you realise how strong a subconcious can be. I think I needed that loneliness to remember that actually it's OK to be alone. It might be boring at times, it can be fraustrating, but ultimately, you get a lot more done when you're not surrounded by people. Thinking, reflecting, planning, recouperating... It´s so easy for me to get sucked into being around people all the time as; an entertainer, a friend, an agony aunt, a raver.... Never-ending labels that I put on myself and then think I have to live up to, and actually it's a choice. I choose to be those things, or not to be.

However, saying that, after a month of this I realised it was time to make friends. I did this in probably the most stalker-ish way possible. Went to a toursit attraction market... Alone. Heard some people speaking English so went and stood by them... Alone. Sensed they were about to move on and practically shouted, "OH HI!!! YOU SPEAK ENGLISH TOO? NICE TO MEET YOU. I DON´T KNOW ANYONE.... SHALL WE EXCHANGE NUMBERS/EMAIL/ANYTHING???!!!"

I am often described as charmingly subtle.

Thankfully these people were just as nuts as me so we ended up having a ravey night together where they cooked my dinner and took me out to a tiny club that played techno all night. Not normally my type of music but hey-after 6 months of salsa I was up for a change!

There's still so much more to say, about the family I stayed with and the places I went, life however must continue to go on. So, to be continued xxx

Um.... So where did that year go...?

Last post 6 March 2014.... WHAT??!! Where the hell did that YEAR go?!! I still feel like it was only yesterday I was with my Colombian family speaking bad Spanish and appreciating a simple life.

Meridian Dan
(didn't get to see the whip)

I cannot even begin to explain how incredibly surprised I am at life right now. Ever since getting back from Colombia, things seem to have just worked themselves out. I was so lost before I went away. Maybe not obviously but I knew something was missing, and as corny as it sounds, I did go away and find myself. And what I mean by that is, I found something inside me that I hadn't truly embraced before.

I learnt how to trust myself. I always say that you can't have any kind of meaningful relationship is there isn't any trust. Friendships, significant others, working relationships... Without trust as a main foundation, there's only so far that relationship can progress. And yet despite always knowing that and being adamant about it, I never fully realised how important it was to trust myself. Trust my ideas, trust my complete lack of organisation, trust my body language when I didn't have language to rely on. Trust my independence and my drive, trust that I can be happy living a life that isn't manic.

Man that is Skepta-
been listening from day

Now that things are starting to go in a more positive direction; career wise, music wise, life wise... I see now that the only thing holding me back before was me. I'd become complacent in every area of my life because I'd forgotten to keep opening doors for myself and seeing what good I could do. Now I'm happy with my levels of creativity, confidence and re-awakened thirst for knowledge. Not seeing any limits, that's the real secret isn't it? Strongly believing that you won't fuck up just because people expect you to....

Anway, I´m rambling but the exciting news of the moment is the new job - winning an apprenticeship with BBC Radio Bristol to be trained for 15 months as a Broadcast Journalist (BA for short - yeah job title!).

DJ Taaaarget

And see this is how weird life is. When I started Open Uni four years ago whilst working full time, my first choice was journalism but after speaking to my careers advisor I was told that not only is journalism hugely competitive to get into in terms of work experience, it almost never comes with any kind of job security. So I left it and did music modules instead, (completed whilst I was travelling-so difficult but so worth it) packing it into the back of my mind as a dream that wasn't meant to be.

Well well- how wrong I was, and how grateful I am. Not only because I get to be trained up by the BBC which is amazing in itself, but also because I get to exercise another part of my personality that might actually end up being a good earner in the end so I can continue being a musician for the love of it and not the money.

Jammeerrr -
guys a don.

I started in October last year and will be there until December this year- I can't believe how much has happened in those short 5 months alone. Here's a few pics from the road so far, and I'm going to start posting up all the stuff I get broadcasted each month - see what y'all think.

I will also write about Colombia at some point, I don't really know why I haven't yet. There's almost a mental block... I think because I miss my Murillo familia a lot. Anyway, ending on a high!!

I will come back to it, but until then - hit me up on insta @ngaioa and Twitter @ngaioanyia and check out my YouTube if you want to hear me doing that singing thing I sometimes do xxx

Me and a few of the fellow apprentices chatting up Yasmin and Twin B

Snow Patrol - Set The Fire To The Third Bar (Ngaio Anyia Cover)

I was having a homesick week... So I recorded this! #enjoymypain

Trials of a Traveler Pt. 2

I arrived at the Tulcan border harbouring a mix of feelings... Relief and stress. Fatigue and exhilaration, all at the same time. The only thing on my mind was crossing the border, and finding a nice hostel in Colombia where I could have a drink and a cigarette with some new found friends... Alas it was not to be.

Despite my taxi driver watching me exchange all my dollars for peso´s when I got off the bus, I still had to bargain with him for the length of the journey about which currency to pay him in (he wanted dollars). When we pulled up to the border I felt an overwhelming sense of relief because I´d made it! I got out and walked confidently to a window stating I was ready to cross the border. Finally, this trips troubles were soon to be over... Psssssh.

After looking at my passport I was asked where my stamp into Ecuador was. I said it must be in the passport as I am, in fact, in Ecuador and have been for three weeks travelling. An English speaker was sent for and I was asked to stand to the side. Attempting to keep down the fear that had settled on my chest since the lost bag incident, I flipped through my passport in a nonchalant sort of way. I couldn´t see the Ecuador stamp either admittedly, but clearly it must be there. 

I feel this face represents what mine
 looked like pretty accurately 

When I was seen for a second time I was told that when coming in from Peru I got my stamp out but failed to get one in (I'm guessing this was due to no-one explaining this to me and the bus driving off without me at the border...see earlier border crossing blog for reference).

Pretty annoyed at this point thinking about how much money I was about to waste on a fine, I sighed and asked what the damage was. Before my nice helper lady could explain that it was going to be difficult, a stone faced bitch in the next window barks in Spanish, "Tell her she has to go back to Quito and get a stamp. It's not our problem".... SORRY??!! 

My thoughts of Quito being in no way positive, and the idea of going 10 hours back on myself to a place I´d already had a troublesome experience in, whilst not having budgeted in any way for was more than my fragile self could handle at that point. I was tired, confused, my brain had gone into panic mode so I couldn´t remember any of the shit Spanish I had stored in the back... So I started to cry. At the window. Uncontrollably. It was in no way pretty.

As locals started to edge around me whilst not making eye contact, and the people behind the window started to back away and congregate in a back room, the reality of the situation hit me and I felt an overwhelming sense of despair. What on earth was I thinking, coming to a foreign place with no concept of the language?! Who the hell did I think I was?! Now, I was going to be stuck at the Ecuadorian border and knowing myself I´ll probably leave my passport somewhere, pay for a taxi with all of my money, and then wander off without my bags. And THEN I´ll have to call my mum from a tiny shack somewhere covered with mud and bruises (because I´ll probably fall down somewhere, trip over a chicken or something) and ask her to bail me out. And THEN I´ll be forever in her debt when I go home and I´ll have to go and work in a call centre to pay her back and suddenly I´ll be 30 and I´ll have wasted my life working for NHS Smoking Helpline and will have picked up a 50 a day habit in the process!!!! 

Variations of these thoughts circulated around my brain in the twenty minutes it took border control to decide my fate and as my melodramatic mind pictured all the worst outcomes, I had become really quite hysterical. I was pulled out of my hysteria when my nice woman shouted "TRANQUIL" and I realised I was making a bit of a scene. She asked me when I was next planning to come to Ecuador to which I practically screamed "NEVER". She looked a bit shocked, though relieved, and said that this time I could go through with a strong warning. 

As I picked up my bags with shaking hands, and tried to subtly dry my face on my jumper, which I then realised had mud on it...which was now on my face... I got my stamp and crossed the border thinking  how lucky I'd been. Guess this whole going to another country with no language skills was an OK plan after all...not a good one maybe, but an OK one.

I walked over to Colombia where I was greeted with smiles, but I kept down just in case someone from Ecuador ran over saying they´d made a mistake and wanted me back (HA! As if.) and got a taxi to Ipiales immediately. Can´t say I loved the look of the border town, and I really wanted to spend that night somewhere safe after my traumatic journey so got a bus to Popayan which I´d heard was nice and near to Pasto which was my bus´s first stop.

However, Colombia is huge. What was ´near to´Pasto turned out to be another 8 hours so I arrived in Popayan at 2am in the pitch black with no hostel reserved, no taxi´s in sight, and thought ´fuck this I´ll stay on till Cali´, which was where I was heading tomorrow morning anyway. And so, my first ´safe night´in Colombia was spent on a night bus, which I was told should never be done in South America because of robbers and such. Due to this, I made sure I stayed awake the entire time with my iPod in my bra and my brain in alert mode. Good.

Trials of a Traveler. Pt 1

I had planned to stay a night in Quito on the way to the border to check it out, but after talking to a few people it transpired that Quito was generally considered to be big and dangerous. After my laptop robbery, I decided best to skip it. However, for any travelling around Quito, be warned - there are two main bus stations. One goes South, one that goes North, and getting a ride inbetween them isn't easy, if done in a taxi you´re looking at $9 minimum - no thanks. 

So, when I went to the Baños bus company I was sure to check that my bus would go to the centre... seems like a likely place for the North bus stop to be... Nope. I ended up getting off at the last stop which was a post office in the middle of a pitch black Quito-lost and alone in the land of robbings with no Spanish to save me.

Slightly concerned I eventually managed to work out where I'd gone wrong and tried to find out how to get to Otravalo, my next destination half way between Quito and the border. Quickly transpired that I was at least half an hour away and would need to get a taxi there, and there was me thinking I was being clever...

Luckily for me a woman in the post office was also going North so I waited for her and hopped in her taxi heading toward my destination. What could have been a $9 journey was now $2. Found a coach, stayed very alert for the 3 hour journey and eventually got into Otravalo around 10pm. Having not eaten in 8 hours I thought food may be a good way to go so after walking around for half an hour I found a legit Chinese which gave me two meals worth of chicken and special fried rice for $3.50. Back to the hotel for 20 minutes of men in black and I was out!

I was feeling confident in the morning having overcome incidents with minimal stress so after taking my bag downstairs I wandered around Otravalo, checked out the market and headed to catch a bus to Tulcan to get across the border nice and early. Slight hiccup occurred when swinging my bag onto my back I knocked over a glass door leant against a wall that smashed into a thousand pieces on my exit... Awkward.

Once on the bus I immediately needed the toilet, sadly for me there wasn't one on my bus. I considered for 20 minutes whether to ask the driver if we could stop..in bad Spanish...in front of everyone, but luckily we pulled into a petrol station. Perfect!

This has nothing to do with the story, its from Peru.
Purely here for comic relief

After smiling at the bus driver, I jumped off and ran to the restroom. When I came out and jumped onto my bus I was rather confused to find the interior had completely changed, as had the passengers.  I laughed, hopped off, and looked for my original bus. But no.. My bus was not there. It had not only left me stranded in the middle of nowhere, but had also taken both my bags with it. Que panic.... Now.

Thankfully this new bus was going to the border too so I paid a dollar, got on, and prayed we'd catch up with my belongings. I began to feel less and less hopeful of a happy outcome after enduring 3 well-meaning people telling me in Spanish that the only thing I could do was contact the police when I got to Tulcan because essentially, my possessions would never be seen again. Meerkat'ing every time we passed a coach, the woman next to me just shook her head silently, the universal sign for no hope. 

In the end I sat there and cried thinking how stupid I was to leave my bags-especially given my track record of bags on buses.

When we arrive to Tulcan however, I am greeted with my bus and both my bags-thank fucking Christ!!! There is smiling, laughing, joking (probably at the my expense) but I'm so relieved I just want to carry on before anything else happens! So after exchanging my dollars for pesos with a guy on the street (wouldn't recommend it, didn't get the best rate but was beyond caring by that point) I hopped in a taxi and headed to the Colombian border. What could possibly go wrong there...?!