Time for a nosey

Kids are safely deposited with granny and papa. New sprouts of grass watered (the sun appears to have come out-shock!) and I am on the train to meet my husband and go on a plane together, on our own, for the first time in 5.5 years. Going in the plane isn't the exciting bit. Three nights on our own in a hotel! What on earth will we talk about??

Now the last time I went to Gatwick with Peter was just after my hen night. I was going to Ethiopia for work but the evil liquor had got to me and my oh my was I ill. He had to come to help me stand up! And stop the car when I felt a little sick....

Anyway. No repeating that today! So why are we going? Well, to look at accommodation, schools, motorcycles riding on pavements and generally to have a nosey. I last went to Dhaka 10 years ago. I have a slight feeling the population and chaos might have increased since then.  It's 35 degrees at the moment apparently. 35 degrees.

The kids keep talking about going to Blangladesh. Although Arty insists not in an aeroplane.  Isobel was slightly traumatised not to be able to come but she will have much more fun baking cakes with granny than being dragged about looking at schools me thinks!

Looking forward to this.  Will be taking photos for the kids and might share a few here.

Mummy, can I have my injections too please?

Not something I thought I would hear Isobel ever say! But say it she did.

Yesterday was the first of the injection fests for the kids.  Oh, yes.  As the nurse at the travel clinic said 'Bangladesh, you can get lots of nasty things there.  Got to have them all'.

And on that optimistic note we booked in for our second go round in a months time.

The day started with excitement 'We're going to London, can we see the Queen'.  Arty was beside himself as he got on the lovely white and yellow southeastern train.  It was sooooo exciting to be on a 'choo choo train'.

Did we feel bad not telling them that they were going to have needles stuck in their arms? Erm, maybe a little bit.  But it was all for the greater good we convinced ourselves.  Peter did point out that in the book he is reading (Second World War by Antony Beevor) the author talks about how during the Holocaust they used the art of deception - telling people that they were off somewhere nice rather than the truth.....

Anyway, that's a completely different scale of deception.  Ours was only very very very small.  And we did bribe them with an ice cream!

There were many forms of transport involved - obviously there was the train.  Then we walked along the South Bank - together with about 100,000 other people (mainly Bayer Munich and Dortmond Fans from what I could see!).  I did ponder why we were moving to one of the most heavily populated places in the world when I can't bear to walk along the South Bank when it's that busy.  Mmmh.

Then it was the big red bus and trying to stop Arty pressing the disabled 'stop' button.  And finally we arrived at the travel clinic.   Who to start with?  Arty was first off the blocks.  Two jabs later (Hepatitis A and B and typhoid) and the nurse was slightly concerned about how we might be able to give him a BCG (for TB) given that he has to apparently stay very very still.  Ha ha.  Unlikely.

What other jabs do they need?  Well apparently, another round of Hep A and Hep B, then the BCG and Rabies (mmmh, nasty.  I had the rabies jab many years ago and thought it would be a good idea to go disco dancing that night....until someone bumped hard into my arm!).  And cholera.  But that's an oral vaccine apparently.  Luckily Dhaka doesn't have Malaria.  Only dengue.  Which you can die from and there is no treatment. 

So moving on, the bribery worked.  Ice creams with flakes in Green Park all round.  It was lovely to be in the sunshine.  The kids were happy and they momentarily forgot the pain of the needle.  However, I'm not sure how easy it will be to get them back there again for the next set!

Fresh bagels for breakfast this morning to try to make up for the pain we inflicted on them.  Only slightly not quite right - I might have mixed up the chinese five spice for the cinnamon!  Oh well.  Bit of jam and we were none the wiser!

We're moving.....to Dhaka!

So, it's been a while.  Life has gone a bit bonkers.  The weather remains cold and depressing - I've been wondering if it's a conspiracy by British Gas and the like to keep our bills high!

Anyway, I was going to start writing some blogs about my sourdough attempts.  There have been many and varied. 

This is how my starter started (thank you Mr HollyWood).  Contents - a festering organic apple, some flour and some water:

This is a more recent success (i.e - it actually rose and was light and airy!):

However, times have now moved on and it's time to reinvigorate this blogging m-larky.

In fact, I'm going to change the name slightly, a play on words.  From now on I think it should be known as 'Tales of Sundarban motherhood....' after the Sundarbans (http://whc.unesco.org/en/list/452) which represent the world's largest stretch of mangrove forest.

We are moving to Dhaka.  Why I hear many people ask?  Well, in terms of work it's one of the best places for me - I'm a climate change and environment nut and so to work in one of the main countries which is going to feel the full impact of climate change it makes such huge sense.  For the kids, well, OK it's going to be a shock (the sheer numbers of people, the air quality, the new schools etc) but I am hoping that it will open their minds to the world, the realities in which so many people have to live and give them opportunities to travel to places beyond most people's wildest dreams (Sri Lanka, Nepal, China, Bhutan....the list goes on!).

Anyway, I thought it would be good to start documenting this process.  And my is it a process.  My first visit in almost 10 years is next week.  For Peter it's his first visit.  He's hard core though.  I don't have any concerns.  After all, he has picked up dead bodies post-genocide in Rwanda.  Here's hoping he can find some sort of job - I'm not sure how long he could really cope with playing tennis at the club and going for tea with the spouses......

The kids aren't coming with us on this trip. They are staying at home with granny and papa.  Granny and Papa have got a house full of gin to cope with the aftermarth! Isobel seems relatively interested in the notion of moving to 'Blangladesh' although I'm not entirely (well, not at all) convinced she really has a clue what it means.  I say that, she understands she has to go on a plane - and then completely freaks out at the thought of them shutting the doors on the plane after she has got on!  Which makes me chuckle, especially as she asks in the same sentence whether the plane 'goes upside down' to Blangladesh.

So, from now on this blog is going to focus on the trials and tribulations of moving to Dhaka and living there with a small family.  The things we see, the smells, the tastes, the chaos, the frustration and the happiness.  I hope it will give an insight into life overseas not only for us but also and in particular for those for whom Bangladesh is home.

And of course, I can always try to make sourdough in Dhaka....and maybe branch out to make sourdough bagels for the expats?