New housemates, some partying and a hot kiwi

After forking out 220 euro’s for rent each week at the crew house, a few of the girls decided to rather get an apartment. I was told we would be moving in with the craziest kiwi I would ever meet- Jenny, who was organizing the apartment. It would only cost us 75 euro’s a week each, so was a complete bargain. Well the apartment is 1 bedroom with 2 bunks that are attached to the passage wall and you couldn’t swing a cat in here. But still, it was cheap. So I was anticipating the arrival of the infamous “Jenny” and when this loud, giggling party animal burst through the door, it was friendship at first sight. 

The crazy kiwi

I had been designated the sleeper couch, but after day 1, I moved into the double bed with Jenny. That first night we sat up giggling till about 2am and I nearly wee’d in my pants. My other 2 housemates are a crazy aussie with legs like a giraffe called Liz, who drinks more beers than an Irishman and another kiwi called Dana who constantly talks about “the shower head” and how this amazing contraption has more uses than the obvious. 

Liz (on the left) with Lucy

Me and Dana

They are continuously taking the piss out of me for saying “basically....” at the beginning of almost every sentence, which I had no idea I did- until now.

I’ve messed up my back so saw an Osteopath on Wednesday who sorted me out but said that I needed to rest and take it easy for a few days. So I was sitting at home in my pj’s when Jenny burst in and tried to persuade me to go out. I was too tired, my back hurt, there was no way I was going out, I said. But then she mentioned that this hot kiwi guy that I’d always had a good vibe with at the crew house, was at the bar they were at. So, (as us girls do...) I rolled out of bed, dotted on some make up and told myself to pull it together. The bar is called “Le Happy Face” which is our “local” along with the only other 2 bars in town “Drinkers Club” and “The Hopstore” which are frequented by yachties. 

As it is now “winter” all the bars close at 12pm. Everyone was still keen to drink so they convinced Jen and I to go back to our apartment to get my 3L box wine. I decided that I was not going to give away an entire box of 8 euro wine whilst I was living like a peasant, so I decided to sell it for 2 euro’s a glass and managed to make 16 euros (Dad you always said I would be a good entrepreneur)! It was my first “big night out” since I’ve been here and I was getting pretty sozzled, loud and silly (as I’m sure you can all imagine knowing me when I’m pissed).  After bringing the party (and the hot kiwi) back to our place at the wee hours of the morning, to cut a long story short, I woke up in a pretty good mood with a smile on my face, despite the hangover. 

There was pretty much no way I was going to do anything constructive that day, and as Liz and Dana both had day work, I convinced Jen to come to Juan Le Pins with me to go and hunt down some Dermologica and go for lunch somewhere by the beach, as it was a pearler of a day. JLP is like Camps Bay but a million times better.

So we found a stunning restaurant on the beach (literally it was on the sand) and we had a gorgeous lunch with a bottle of wine. 

Jenny chilling at our table on the beach

The owner had the cutest bull dog pup you have ever seen that spent the afternoon on our laps and lying by our feet. 

Cuteness!

On the way home I dragged Jen into a shop that was having a 5 euro sale and left ecstatic with a hot dress and 2 really cool tops for 15 euros. 

Friday I decided to do some more dock walking and I traipsed all the way to La Ciotat (2hrs train ride away and cost me 100 euros return). Again, as the French public transport is such a balls-up, we got held up for 45mins because some chav didn't have a ticket and didn't want to pay the fine or get off the train (they are quite strict about train tickets and fines...) so we all had to wait for the police to arrive to get the guy off the train. What a dick. So I basically got to La Ciotat and had to bolt round for 45mins then dash back to the station to make the next train.

I had to go out that night... so we headed to the dodgiest nightclub in Antibes- Equinox. Now everyone had been slating this place to me, saying it was dark and dingy and the music was awful. So I was imagining Gandalfs or Jo’burg. But to my surprise and delight it was pretty much like a Tiger Tiger in Antibes! 

Me and B

Dana, Zalia and me

 After crawling home at 4am and then getting shunted to the couch, I woke up the next morning with the worst hangover I’ve had in ages. 

We decided to go for breakfast at The Hopstore and I was feeling horrendously  ill. I first tried to drink a coke, which just made me feel more nauseas, so then someone suggested “hair of the dog” so I ordered a glass of Rose. That went down lie a lead balloon and I ran to the bathroom to be sick. I then decided to get an orange juice, so now I’m sitting with an array of drinks around me like a beverage vendor. After a big English breakfast I needed to go back to sleep, so I came home, took a rehydrate and 2 myprodols (as you do) and passed out. When I woke up, I went to go cuddle with Dana on the sofa bed and watch Harry Potter. You have no idea how small our house is and how sound carries (we all sleep literally about 3m from each other) and I was still getting flak for keeping everyone awake till the wee hours of Thurs morning. There was definitely no way I was going anywhere or anywhere near alcohol.

However..... it then came to me that it was my bestie B’s birthday the next day, so there was not a chance in hell I was going to be able to have an early night. Stu and I got changed in a rush and it was only when we were walking to the pool bar that we realized we were both dressed in black jeans, grey t-shirts and black leather jackets. So now we looked like total morons. We headed out for drinks with some other saffa friends and friends from B’s boat and went to play some pool. There was boob groping and people doing yoga moves on the floor, it was getting out of hand! 

Me and Stu in our matching outfits

B and an aussie friend Courtney

B at The Hopstore!

Take 1

Take 2

Take 3!

Now boozed, I just HAD to go dance, so whilst the others decided to head back to the boat, I managed to persuade B to join me at Equinox for a little razzle. We met some French dudes in the queue who bought us a bottle of champagne. The night was looking promising. We had a good dance and I met some of the other yachties there (the hot kiwi included). He is set on trying to speak saffa (I mean who wouldn’t though, we are f#%@ing awesome) and take the piss out of my accent so is continuously saying “kiff as”, “lekker bru” and “ja”. 

After waking up super late on Sunday morning with the hot kiwi in my bed, I realized I was horrendously late for B’s birthday and still had to get her a present. I frantically scrambled for clothes and shot out to get her a present and then arrived an hour and a half late at her birthday do (yes in true Tiffany style), at an awesome little Mexican place in JLP. They had the best margaritas and I chowed a chilli con carne that changed my life. 

Me and Stu

Me and Stu take 2

B's birthday cake!

I started this week of feeling stressed again about money and pressure re coming home in Dec. Everyone I have met keeps saying to me “It will happen, stop stressing” and “It just takes time”. However I was running out of time- and money. But then an amazing thing happened- I got a call on Monday morning from the chief stewardess of a big superyacht in the international quay in Antibes; who said they were looking for a temp stewardess for 1 month, with a possibility of going temp-perm. I was bursting with excitement and relief. I went to see her and that evening I got told I had the job. She is a saffa from Stellies (sy praat die taal!) and is warm and bubbly and absolutely lovely. I got such a great feeling about the boat. I found out that she got my CV through one of her stews Kate, who is the one I am covering for whilst she is on leave. I met Kate (also a saffa) 2 weeks ago when I was walking around dockwalking like a dejected, lost soul. I think she felt sorry for me and took me CV, saying that if she heard of any jobs she would pass on my CV. So I was really grateful when she actually got me a job on her own boat. 

My first day was today. The boat is unbelievable. It makes the houses on MTV’s “Cribs” look like country cottages. It is pimped out to the max- jacuzzi, gym, sauna and steam room, spa, 3 speedboats, 2 jetski’s, 500 euro cushions and 100 euro dinner knives. The upholstery and interior decor is the best quality money can buy- bamboo silk and wool carpets, leather, stingray skin (yes you read correctly), silk chairs, couches and walls, marble bathrooms, tables that when you press a button, the centre comes off and there is a built in boardgame.  Rooms that have ipads next to each bed, electric blinds, curtains, different light settings and electric doors and a piano that cost more than any house I will ever own that plays itself at the press of a button. My jaw was hanging on the floor the whole day and I had to continuously remind myself to act composed and not like a gobsmacked peasant. 

Again, as is the culture on superyachts, lunch is a grand affair. Today we had roast duck, crisp roast pork, 2 different salads, grilled aubergine and crusty French loaf. The crew lounge has a TV bigger than my dad’s (most of you know how big that is...), playstation, movies/TV and ipads to control the media player. The cupboards are again stocked with every snack you can think of- chips, popcorn, nuts, dried fruit, biscuits, muesli bars and chocolates. And the kitchen is always fully stocked with beverages, fruits, cheeses and cold meats etc. Literally you could dream up anything in the world you would want to it and it would almost definitely be in that kitchen. They don’t call it a “stew arse” for nothing. If you don’t watch what you eat here and exercise, it is SO easy to put on weight! So I headed off for another run tonight and have vowed to do this every evening after work and not drink alcohol during the week (in next week’s blog post we’ll see how many days I actually managed to stick to this...)! 

xoxo

The Cupboard Under The Stairs

Last weekend started off with an amazing dinner at some friends of B’s- Amanda and Mark (she’s a Sand he’s a Kiwi). We pretty much got cooked a gourmet 3 course meal, complete with dessert and Hennesy. First proper meal I’ve had since I’ve been here so I was in heaven!

Me, Stu and Amanda

Me and B

B-dog

The next day I decided to go to Monaco to do a bit of dock walking and had a look around. Wasn't as “wow” as I had expected it to be, but then again I did just go to the port. 

Monaco

A superyacht

Sic Audi

I treated myself to a Ben& Jerry’s cookie dough (just to had to my growing consumption of unhealthy eating since ove been in France. What with macaroons, crepes, baguettes, I swear ive put on another 2kg’s).
 

That afternoon was the rugby- so we headed out with some of Mark’s kiwi friends, then myself, B, Amanda and Stu supporting the SA team! We went to a rad little bar in Juan le Pin and played some pool and had some cocktails, but as you know we lost miserably!

Me and Gemma

Amanda and Gemma

Stuey

Tiff and B

Some daywork went up on the Crewhouse board over last weekend. Now I knew half the crewhouse would be applying for it, along with whatever other crewhouses the boat who needed the dayworker had decided to contact. I was desperate. So instead of writing and giving the usual spiel, I wrote a desperate mail pretty much begging for the work. The mail subject line was “Humble plea for daywork” and it went something like this:

I know you have probably had a flood of requests for the day work you have available. I have been in Anitbes for 2 weeks and have been struggling to find work even though I have been doing a lot of dock walking up and down the coast! I need to make a call next week about going home as I am almost out of cash, but would really like to stay a little longer to try and find a permanent job. So this is a humble plea to please hire me as a day worker, so I can try to stay here a little bit longer!

Kindest regards,
Tiffany

Well I’ll be damned but it actually worked. The chief stewardess phoned me and offered me the daywork. I apologized about my grovelling mail as I now felt a bit embarrassed. But she was lovely and said we’ve all been there and if you don’t tell someone your situation they wouldn’t know! I was excited. This would be my first time on a superyacht! She said she needed me for a few days at least, and daywork pay is around 100 euros a day, so this would pay for another weeks rent at the crewhouse and food and a bit extra. As the boat was in a shipyard 2hrs on the train from Antibes, she offered that I could sleep and eat on the boat.

I arrived at the yacht and was shown to my “cabin” that I would be sharing with another girl. It resembled what I had always imagined Harry Potter’s “room under the stairs” at the Dursleys would look like- pretty much the size of a small walk-in cupboard. 

Nevertheless it was all really exciting. I was on the top bunk and I had a porthole that looked out onto the water and some of the other superyachts! 

Each cabin has its own aircon controller and each bed has a screen that folds down from the roof (or for the person below, from underneath the top bunk) which you can watch satellite TV or DVD’s on. 

The “crew mess” is the crew eating/hang out area. We had a large table and comfy sofa seats and a big screen TV with satellite. The chef on board cooks 5 star gourmet meals. So we for lunch and dinner we would get a buffet of food- at least 2 different meant dishes, roast veggies, different salads and sides (pates/scotch eggs etc) and crusty baguettes. It was a feast! 

Roast chicken, veggie dishes, salads, eggs, parma ham, crostinis, farm terrine, melon, pineapple

And then the cupboards (and this is just for the crew hey) are fully stocked with everything you can dream of- chips, nuts, dried fruit, chocolate, biscuits, cereal bars, you name it. The fridge has a wide selection of cheeses from gruyere to brie to special French market cheeses and a whole cold meat selection (this is also available each lunchtime and is part of the buffet). I now understand why girls who work on yachts get what is called a “stew bum”- the food is just so good and so available so you just eat it. 

The work I did for the week pretty much considered of 60% laundry (including loads of ironing which I’m surprisingly pretty damn good at) then general cleaning (vacuuming and mopping of all floors every day, polishing all the handrails, making beds  and cleaning bathrooms) and “detailing” i.e. using cotton buds to clean the smallest spaces like air vent grids. So to all of you who thought I couldn’t suck it up and get my hands dirty- ha! 

I got a call on Wednesday from one of the biggest superyachts in the world. The Swedish girl that phoned was the head of service and said they are looking for a junior service stewardess. She couldn’t remember how she got my CV and neither do I, but she said she just wanted to call as you can’t get an idea of someone’s personality from a CV.  So we had what was pretty much a phone interview. She told me a bit about the boat and its owner- it’s all very high security and a lot of discretion so I’m not going to say what boat or who. But the yacht travels all over the world. They’ve just been to Alaska and are heading to the Pacific now (Hawaii, Fiji). As it’s so big, it doesn’t need to re-fuel/re-stock as often, so it can go to much more remote places. I asked if they were currently in Antibes and she said no, Vancouver! It’s currently in the shipyard, the leaving 7 November, so they need someone to start pretty much immediately. 

The perks are amazing- large crew gym, paid international flights 2 x per year, 2 x one month holidays/year. It’s an amazing opportunity, not just to see the world, but also due to the status of the person who owns the boat. She asked if I wanted the job and I was like yes of course! She then asked if a had a B1/B2 visa and I said no- but that I just need boat papers from them (letter of employment) and then I can go and apply for one at a US embassy (usually in Paris or Madrid and not normally a problem if you have boat papers. It then takes about a week to get). She said she’d need to discuss it with her head of interior and one of them would get back to me. 

I didn't want to get my hopes up but was obviously staring at my phone for the last 2 days, willing it to ring and jumping every time it did. But I didn't hear back from them. I had an interview on another boat whilst in La Ciotat- slightly odd... the owner is 84 and his wife (his 3^rd) is 40. They have 2 kids of 7 and 5- both who apparently know they are rich and that if they press a button (literally they have buzzers), a stew will come running to their attention. They are Orthodox Jews so are Kosher, but are concerned that the chef might “contaminate” something in the kitchen by accident, so the whole boat is strictly vegetarian. The head of interior, who interviewed me, said that to satisfy their meat cravings, the crew have a weekly barbeque on the dock when they are at the shipyard, or grab a steak at a restaurant. But when the boss is on and you are out at anchor for 5 weeks, you’re pretty much screwed. I love my meat (as us saffa’s do) and hate most vegetables so the thougt of a veggie boat isn’t exactly thrilling, but I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth- they are crossing over to the Caribbean so would be amazing to get on it. I will find out on Tuesday if I got through to the 2^nd round.

I arrived back in Antibes yesterday from La Ciotat and my friend Harry was down for the weekend from Marseilles. After dinner at the local Indian “Bollywood”, a bunch of us decided to head out to Juan-le-Pin, the next suburb, as it’s kinda like a Camps Bay and has some (supposedly) cool nightclubs and bars. Well...... We went to a club called “Le Village” and after playing a 20 euro cover charge we were subjected to the WORST and I mean the WORST music I have ever heard in my life. It can only be described as French R&B dance. I can’t even think of an adjective to describe how awful it was. 

We kept hoping that the set would soon be over and some better music would come on (house or even commercial) so we stuck it out for a bit, but it just got worse. We were all making hanging hand gestures and pointing our fingers at our heads like guns because we just couldn’t take how totally kak it was. 

Le Village

Peter, Heaher, Mel (crazy Irish chick we met that night), Raph (crewhouse manager), me

Mel and Raph

Table dancing with Peter

Shoot me now before this awful music does

After trying to “make the best of it”, I walked out at 4am as I just couldn’t take anymore, and the crew followed suit. My first big night out in South of France and such a disappointment! It’s meant to be a great club so maybe we just got it on a bad night but it makes Tin Roof seem like Pacha. I would have killed to have been transported to Tiger Tiger- or even Pirates in Plumstead would have been better.

I woke up this morning feeling a little bleak. Being out at such a shitty club last night really made me miss Cape Town and all of you guys. It was a really stunning day so I decided to go to the beach- being in the sun always makes me feel happy and positive. I decided to quickly check my mail first as I hadn’t checked it since Thursday evening. Well what I surprise I got! The head stewardess of that big famous superyacht had mailed me to say she hadn’t forgotten about me, the interview process was just taking a little while due to the many people involved but was hoping to let me know after this weekend. As I was replying, I saw that she had then sent me a follow up mail yesterday, saying they are really interested and am I still available or have a I accepted another job. I literally squeaked with excitement and quickly whizzed off off a mail saying yes I’m still available and would be thrilled to work on the boat. I am hoping to hear back from them tomorrow evening! Please all cross fingers and toes!!

xxx

Dock Walking

After having a shocking look at the state of my poor bank account at the beginning of this week and with some of the other girls in the house feeling the same way, my friend Jen and I decided to make a groot trek to Genova in Italy (pronounced Genoa). We heard there was a boat show there and we thought we might be able to get some day work for a few days leading up to the show. Genova is quite far up the coast (it’s about 5hrs on the train) so there was no point going up for 1 day; so we booked the cheapest hotel room we could find for 1 night. 

We had to wake up at 4:30am to get the 5:30am train and after an extremely boring journey we arrived in Genova, tired, lost but full of hope and determination! Thank god Jen is so good with directions or I would have walked us to Milan. I found the crisscross of roads as confusing as Jen found the gawking Italians annoying. 

We had to lug our luggage about 4km to get to the hotel (to my closest and dearest you can just imagine how that went down. If I’d been with a bf, I would have winged the whole way, or sat down on my bag and flat out refused to walk and demanded that a taxi be called. I didn't want Jen to think I was high maintenance though so I just shut up).

The sign to our hotel

I thought we were lost when we walked down a dingy alleyway covered with graffiti and stinking of urine and then past a whore house with a turd sitting outside it. But Jen looked at the map and proclaimed that we had arrived at our destination. 

“You must be joking?!” I said. “There’s no hotel here?”. But then a friendly Italian grandpa stuck his head out of a doorway that one of the prostitutes was standing next to and ushered us into a small clean looking foyer of a hotel. I was still dubious... well rightly so- our room proved to be a bed in a room with two lamps and one cupboard that’s interior decorating consisted of green sponged blobs on the wall and a glorious view out of the window of the turd in the alleyway. We looked at each other- it’s just one night we both said.

After a long day of trekking around town that involved me taking of my shoes and walking barefoot at times because the stupid cheap shoes I bought hurt my feet, we arrived back at the hotel totally despondent. The boat show had been a ballsup- it turns out it was restricted access only and you needed a pass to get in to the port where the boats were. So we then missioned around trying to find the other marina’s in close proximity to the town- but with little success (everything just seemed to be cornered off). I was tired, grumpy and starving, but as we trooped home through an industrial area munching on chocolate bars and diet coke (totally contradictory I know), I came across a hidden away gem of store, selling the most gorgeous, glamorous, Italian style jeans. After deciding on a pair that I was adamant made my butt look at least 1 size smaller and gawking at the cheap price of only 15 euros, I felt happy that the trip might not actually have been a total write off after all. 

We went for a walk before dinner and came across some beautiful old buildings.

Cathedral of San Lorenzo

We had to do the Italian thing and order pasta and pizza for dinner (when in Rome). Genova is actually well known for its pesto, which comes from the region. So we shared a pesto pasta and a four seasons pizza, followed by some absolutely mouth watering gelato (Italians really just do it on another level. I thought I was actually eating liquidised pistachios). 

Luckily we didn't have any travel botchups on the way home, but the trip had cost me 120 euros and I only handed out about one CV. We left Genova at 11am and arrived back in Antibes at 4pm. I walked into my room, dropped my bags and just burst into tears. I’d given up a good job with people I liked, sold my car, given up my lease on a house share I loved, I missed my friends, a boy back home that I’d started to really like and my family and dogs; to come and live an exciting life of travelling the world and cleaning toilets and it's just not happening for me. And I'm almost out of cash... My British friend Gemma made me a cup of tea and came to sit with me and we devised a backup plan. If we hadn’t found jobs in the next week, neither of us could afford to stay here any longer and we would go back to London. I would find temp work for 2-3 months and Gemma offered that I could stay with her free of charge (bless!) as she pretty much knew how screwed we both were so felt my pain. Then i would go home for Dec and work another month or 2 in London and come back to the Med in March for season.

Gemma and I went for dins with a friend from the crewhouse (a “feel better about our current situation” meal) and kept texting each other under the table, trying to decide on the cheapest food we could order that didn't make us look like we were scrapping the barrel. I told her that ordering just 1 spring roll might get us some pity stares. 

Me and Gemma

That trip totally drained me, so the next day I said sod it and decided to spend the morning on the beach. It was a nice day and hot, sunny days in Antibes are getting fewer and far between. It was so warm I even swam and one of the dudes from the crewhouse had this awesome waterproof portable speaker that you can plug your iphone into inside.

Me and Linnea

Swedish friend Linnea and British friend Peter

Crewhouse peeps

That night we did dins again- my Swedish friend Linnea got a fantastic job on an awesome boat so we went out for a drink. 

Me and Linnea

The one thing I have to give the French credit for is how much they love animals. You all know what I’m like..... Pretty much everyone here is walking some kind of poodle or another and France is one of the only countries where you can buy a ticket for a seat on the train for your dog. They are allowed into restaurants, bars, hotels. You name it. But what touched me was the beggars on the cobbled streets- they all have a little puppy or a kitten or an old doggie or both, that look so loved and looked after.  They all have little collars and one old man had even found an old, discarded baby pram that he wheeled his cat and dog around in. 

One guy with 3 dogs even had a sign that said needed money to sterilize his doggies. 

They sit so patiently next to their masters on the street. Just watching life go by. It really stirs something in me. To have nothing, but to still be able to love and share what you do have with a pet. Even though I’m almost out of cash, I’ve given away 20 euros already to different people. 

Last Friday B came with me to Cannes for the day to do some dock walking. The dock walking wasn't all that succesful but at least I got to see Cannes and we even found a shop with my name on it!

Cannes Dock

 Laters!