I had just enjoyed a dinner at Monash University in the middle suburbs of Melboure and expected to take a late night bus, then train, back into the city. I was very pleased when one of the guests offered to drive me home.

‘Actually, you can drive yourself home,’ David said. ‘You see, I have an electric car, which is part of the government’s pilot programme. As part of the deal, I’ve promised to get as many people as I can to have a go driving it.’

What luck! This would be my first time in an electric car.

An electric car has its own quirks. I drove the Mitsubishi i-Miev, which doesn’t have a key. Instead, you use a button to start the engine. The gears are similar to an automatic car, with the addition of a ‘brake regeneration’ gear. I used it in the Burnley Tunnel to slow down. Instead of braking with the pedal, I put in the brake gear and the car slows itself down quickly and captures the energy for the electric battery.

On the CityLink tollway, I felt a large freight truck pushing up towards me at 100 kilometres per hour.

‘You’re in the left lane.’ David said. ‘Why is it so close?’

‘He probably wants a closer look at the electric car,’ I said.

Damjan made lemon ice tea as a family friendly aperitif for our new year’s eve BBQ. He made two versions: a sweet one and a tart one (more lemon).

To help people distinguish between the options, I made the labels.

One of the highlights of my four years in the UK will be going to the Fat Duck. It was worth the expense, and the 50-minute train journey from London to Maidenhead and back.

Daniel Yeow provides an illustrated blow-by-blow account of our visit. You will remember that he was the one who documented last year’s gourmet adventure to Gordon Ramsay too.

I will leave it up to Daniel to tell the gastronomic story. All I wanted to say here was that we started at 7pm and rushed to catch the half-past-midnight train. I made it to bed past 2am.

The next day, I did not have my usual packed lunch. No time to make it, you see. So I went to Pret A Manger for a light salad (compensating for the richness of last night).

When I reached the top of the counter queue to pay, the cashier asked in that annoying perky way, ‘How are you doing today?’

‘Fine,’ I said shortly. Normally, I’m friendly but today I was exhausted.

It must have shown in my face. The perky counterhand paused for a heartbeat and said, ‘Would you like a cappuccino? On the house!’

‘On the house? Well… sure!’

He reached behind him to get a hot takeway cup of coffee and handed it to me with my lunch and change.

‘Wow, thanks,’ I said, still surprised. ‘You’ve made my day.’

After collecting nine toilet rolls in a week, I spent a few hours on Hallowe’en Saturday going back to my childhood. With Aoife cheering me on, I painstakingly traced out the classic toilet symbols for ‘male’ and ‘female’ on foamboard. Then I coloured them in with permanent marker.

The result? I won best costume of the party.

Judge Mandy, explained. ‘The theme of the party was to come dressed as something you’re afraid of. Joan is the winner because, as we women all know, public toilets are terrible frightening places.’

After receiving my award, the Joker (the Heath Ledger incarnation) and a jelly fish came to congratulate me.

‘Great costume,’ they said. ‘But we’ve got to ask. Why are women’s toilets so scary? Are they scarier than men’s toilets?’

‘It’s not that women’s toilets are worse,’ I said. ‘It’s just that for women, public toilets are… well, it’s a more contact sport.’

This Saturday, I am going to a Hallowe’en party. The theme is to come dressed as something you’re scared of.

I’ve decided to go as a bee or a public toilet. I haven’t yet decided.

For my bee costume, I would buy yellow duct tape and wrap it around a black skivvy. Maybe I can fashion some antennae and some kind of stinger using pipe cleaners. But wings, what about wings? And the extra two limbs?

The public toilet is a little bit easier. I can hang a WC sign on me with a ‘woman’ silhouette on the front and a ‘man’ silhouette at the back. Around me, I can loop empty toilet rolls, which are a great fear within my general fear of public toilets.

In anticipation, I have taken to collecting empty toilet rolls.

‘Look!’ I exclaimed, waving three empty toilet rolls at my housemate Aoife, who had just arrived home.

‘Well!’ she laughed ‘Have you been conquering your fears and taking toilet rolls from public toilets?’

‘Of course not,’ I waved excitedly. ‘I got these from work! I think we use up lots of toilet paper at work!’

Two weeks ago, Daniel visited us from his base in Amsterdam. Daniel and Damjan are ‘foodies’ and I like food, so we booked ourselves into Gordon Ramsay’s flagship restaurant on Royal Hospital Road in Chelsea.

We spent five hours there (7pm to 1am) on a Tuesday night. The artistically plated dishes were full great flavours and textures. The wait staff read our minds.

Daniel has a review and photos on his website so I now direct you there…

I volunteered to take photos at the gala 50th birthday celebration of Damjan’s boss. I love taking photos at events, especially when I don’t know many people. Being designated photographer gives me an excuse not to be awkward when I have no one to talk to but also gives me an opening to strike up conversation with people.

The only trick at this party was that the birthday man wanted me to use his camera, the Nikon D300. I’m sure it is an excellent camera (and it must be, costing £1000). It also had a rather magnificent zoom lens.

However, I’ve never used a Nikon SLR before. As soon as I arrived at the party, I had to frantically flick through the camera quick guide to get myself up to speed. I felt the pressure to do a credible job as the photographer for this milestone event.

It wasn’t until I had to do this did I appreciate just how much I had accustomed myself to my Olympus E-300. I’ve had it for 4.5 years. It is a dinosaur digital SLR. There’s no need for me to upgrade, though. I think I’m probably still limited by my skill more than my equipment.

Here are some photos. That’s me in the middle. I found a beautiful mask of red and black velvet with black tassells. It has a headband rather than a elastic that goes around the back of my head. The headband makes it comfortable and also avoids squishing hair to the sides of my head.

Masquerade party

Today, I volunteered at Pangea Day, ‘a global event bringing the world together through film’. I surveyed people about how they travelled to the London event. We will use this information to work out the carbon footprint of Pangea Day in London and Los Angeles.

The films were great, really thoughtful and often funny. The hosts and speakers were a little bit too earnest for my taste. My favourite part of the evening was at the very end, when percussionists all around the world played to the same rhythm. We had video feeds with drummers from USA, Rwanda, Egypt, India, and other places, as well as Planet Drum live on stage in London. I was dancing on our picnic rug.

Watch all the films here. One of my favourites is Elevator Music. My friend George recommends More, which I didn’t get to see because I was surveying people.

Last night, I joined a pub quiz team called ‘Extroverted blind beavers’. I am very bad at pub quizzes. It would not be honest to blame it on me being an Australian in a UK pub.

When I do have an answer, though, it’s to questions that few others can answer. I have random pockets of information.

For example, I identified the title of this book.

How, I have no idea. I don’t think I’ve read it before, I just had a vague feeling it was something about a prince.

Thanks to Damjan, I knew with absolute certainty that the country hosting this year’s Eurovision final is Serbia.

Having debated this at Hamley’s toy store with American friends, Debra and John, I knew that the first Monopoly game was based on Atlantic City in the US.

The question that made me happiest, though, was ‘What is the name of Bob the Builder’s cat?’

You see, that morning, I had to watch five minutes of Bob the Builder with Neo, while waiting for the bathroom to be free. The episode was about Bob cutting a cat flap in his door. I remember thinking, ‘That cat’s named after a fish.’

While at the quiz, I struggled for a few minutes to remember exactly what fish it was. Then I got it: Pilchard.

Pilchard the cat		Pilchard the sardine

Our house celebrated Independence Day with a BBQ today. I stuffed myself silly with cookies, brownies, strawberries, pie, watermelon, zucchini bread and a concoction of orange, cottage cheese and whipped cream. Then, when dessert was done, I had a homemade hamburger and hot dogs, hot off the grill, plus a Southern pasta salad and American chilli. I am so sad that I am too full to eat any more food.

Vegetarian kebabs

Blueberry pie, which was declared, ‘America in food form’.

Sangría.

What Independence Day party would be complete without an American flag cake?