why you should explore your town at night

Considering I've only lived in the student town of Aberystwyth for a couple of months, I'd say I've fallen in love with the place pretty quickly. Filled with history and stories and nationalism (and Vodka Tuesdays), Aber tends to draw you in completely. In some ways, it's relatively similar to my hometown of Swansea with its beaches and hills and castles, but something about this sleepy seaside makes it completely foreign. So far, I've basically only been out during daylight to go to lectures or to walk back home after a long night out, but I wouldn't have it any other way as I've had some of the best adventures at midnight. From stargazing to skinny dipping, towns like this are so much better when darkness falls.

my favourite myths and legends (and bath bombs)

For those of y'all who don't know, I'm completely obsessed with folklore. Just give me a book on Greek gods or European legends and I will be gone for hours, engrossed and absent from the real world. Having recently started university in my favourite country in the world, Wales, I'm pretty damn hyped to spend my time doing modules on Greek and Roman epic and drama and the like, wasting nine grand a year on doodling little Kronos' and Zeus' in textbooks. Strangely enough, at the same time that all this is happening, my dear friend Michelle at Ascent Bath and Body released a new box all based around myths and legends.  The set is completely perfect, and gives me an excuse to rant about some of the best lore around.

why cold countries are underrated

Here I am in London, where we've only just reached fall (although it’s hard to tell as it's already pouring with rain and freezing) and yet I can’t stop myself from reminiscing the days last winter when I was back in Poland. It's a pretty random place to miss when you think about it, especially as I slept in the tiniest dingy little room with my newly demoted ex-boyfriend, only $200 to my name and without any grasp of the language - or warm gloves. It was a massive culture shock being served vodka and blocks of butter with my lunch, with the flight home consisting of the plane falling out of the sky several times as it fought against a storm with everyone on board screaming. It's the sort of trip most people would look back on and grimace, and yet here I am craving the disorientation, the new language, the beautiful backdrops, and just how everything completely disconnected me from the stresses of home life. If I'm completely honest with you, this one wacky little sojourn introduced me to the wonders of cold countries, and may have even started to turn me from a summer person to a cold, wrap-up-warm-lest-you-freeze-your-arse-off person - and here's why.

how to survive a music festival

So I recently spent the best part of five days at Reading Festival, which to those of you who don't know is this massive music festival in Berkshire. It's like this younger, more reckless version of the famed Glastonbury, but full of chavs drinking Redbull and downing Ket, featuring vastly overweight girls trying to fold themselves into sequin pants. It's the sort of place you'd be lucky to come out of without scurvy, trenchfoot, or hepatitis. Most people there end up crying in the foetus position in their tents at some point (be it because of the cesspits of human waste regarded as the toilets, or the horse tranquilisers everyone's bent on trying), but alas, instead I've brought you a guide on how to not let it get that bad. 

recovering from the reading festival under my mermaid blanket

So for those of y'all that don't know, I recently went to one of the biggest festivals in England - the Reading Festival. It was five days of mud, bad music, and a diet consisting of candy and packets of Lays chips. I've spent the past couple of days trying to recover from some weak sunburns and memories of the human waste cesspit, and it feels so great to be able to shower, sleep in a normal bed, and eat actual food again. The journey back from Reading was insanely stressful, and living on three hours sleep over several nights has really caught up with me. And so, I've taken some time out to recuperate - with the help of the super adorable mermaid tail blanket sent to me by Everything AF.

checking off #85 from my bucket list - swing through the air on a trapeze

Turns out that I obviously dented enough brain cells in the air to make a graphic for this post

Unlike most people I didn't start trapeze lessons because I wanted to overcome a fear of flying, heights, or jumping off of things with only my hands stopping me from plummeting to the ground. I didn't do it because I'd recently gone through a bad break-up and wanted to rediscover myself, nor because of a crumbling mortgage, mid-life crisis, or horrendous divorce like a bunch of other people that take it up. No, my reason for starting trapeze lessons was much more reasonable and practical than that. I started trapeze lessons so that I'd have a solid back-up plan if I failed my exams - join the circus.

why you should never visit wales ever

You know what I hate? Wales. London is incredible in regards for the three things it's good for (auditions, The Hard Rock Cafe, and Instagram photos), so in comparison you can only hate Wales and all the things it has to offer. Imagine, the businessmen don't look dead inside! People apologise when they run into you! People don't hate their jobs and livelihoods! If England had more sheep, I might consider it a better contender for #1 place to avoid at all costs, but alas, I am Welsh after all.

8 tips for female travellers going solo

For a bunch of us, solo travel is one of the most intimidating things we can imagine. And when you factor in the idea of travelling alone as a woman, it suddenly becomes downright terrifying. As a female, I've grown up with the mindset that going out on my own is scary and unsafe in the places not too far from me, let alone if I were to start striding cross-country.