It goes a little something like this: you’ve spent hours and hours on a plane going somewhere incredibly exciting. And once you’ve made the flight or train ride, reached your destination and you’re getting ready to sleep. And you realise you’re not where you normally are. Then the pit of your stomach just disappears or lurches somewhere it never normally does.

I describe it as feeling wonky. Or at least wonky is my descriptor of choice this week.

If you give into the wonky feeling, it can overwhelm you. Dry retching, anyone?

I was explaining it to some friends as I’m making some fairly momentous plans for later in the year.

And they said, ‘Oh yeah, I understand what you mean about feeling wonky. I get that too.’

Another said, ‘Yeah, I get that feeling on the bus from Glasgow to Inverness every time I go back to Scotland.’

Both are ladies I would describe as fairly seasoned travellers. As in they each do at least two long haul flights each and every year.

Ha.

Never in my 26 years on this planet had I ever known anyone who similarly felt this ‘wonky’ about embarking on a new journey.

But now, twice in a week, I’ve been slowly reassured that to feel wonky – however that may present itself – is perfectly normal.

And I suppose it all comes down to self-preservation, the wonky feeling makes us aware of our new surroundings, of potential predators. Even if they may just be lurking in the corners of our minds.

We can take on the world, be an explorer and feel a little bit wonky about it too.

Hey, you wouldn’t be alone.

I said back in the first post in the blog series that I knew I was going to learn a lot this year. And 20 days into the year I have. But the most stark reminder of this is in the things that are given me the bigger smile.

I’ve had two doses of fantastic big picture news this week (which I’ll talk about later) and there’s genuine joy in that. But ‘the good stuff’ is simpler, yet equally important. I’ve found more joy in connecting with people, talking, discussing ideas, cracking jokes, gaining momentum. And in work hours, no less.

I think ‘the good stuff’ is a true gift. And this week, I’ve learnt to treat it as such.

If you can read this, you might just be able to make your own pourover coffee

You didn’t think I was going to have a blog series about learning without including a post about coffee, did you?

I love a good coffee geek out. As a coffee snob (telling it like it is), there’s pretty much no better way for me to spend my Saturday morning than drink a spectacular coffee and geeking out with the baristas and roasters.

Last weekend I bought myself a Hario v60 pourover set to make my very own pourover coffee at home. This is good for two reasons:

1. They take ages to make compared to espresso. They waste valuable barista time.
2. They’re really expensive… because they waste valuable barista time.

But pour overs are the best way to drink coffee, in my incredibly humble opinion. You don’t put as much pressure on the beans compared to espresso, which allows a lot of the fruity, juicy flavours to come out. Plus you don’t get that weird, gluggy feeling after drinking milky coffee.

So I asked the chaps at Elixir if they had any roasts that are good for pourovers.

Did they?! They gave me a tutorial on how to best weigh and grind the coffee, set it up and time the pour. They even wrote it all down for me, recommended an iPhone app that will tell you everything you ever wanted to know (Intelligentsia for those who are interested) AND they gave me a taste from the tutorial.

So what did I learn today? Lots! And I got heavily caffeinated.

Tomorrow I get to put what I learnt into practice. Good times.

I couldn’t even give Forrest Gump a run for his money for 28 minutes of baby interval running.

Because that’s ok. I’m going to smash this running thing. You see, I’m not a running kind of person, I was that kid who got far too puffed doing cross country. Treadmills bore me. Fresh air is a good thing.

So I downloaded an app which talks you through a warm up, intervals of running and walking (more walking than running at the moment) and then a cool down.

I got puffed as usual.

But I am proud to tell you that I didn’t get a stitch until the six interval.

I think I’m going to smash this running thing. Soon.

When is the right time to introduce a little person to the world of babycinos? We all know babycinos are the gateway to hot chocolates, which are the gateway to mochas, which are the gateway to cappuccinos and eventually a full blown coffee addiction.

I would heartily suggest the worst time to introduce them to babycinos is while they’re still a baby. If you’ve not mastered a cup, no ‘cino for you.

I would go even further to say toddlers aren’t quite there yet. Case in point – I had a marvellous time with my youngest niece and a babycino this morning. It was a real… tactile experience for her:

Delicious nonetheless

I’m not sure what the best age for babycinos really are. Late toddledom, I’d suspect. Ah! Who cares? Milk froth is fun, whichever way you have it.

You have captured my tastebuds and my belly.

Because of you I have learnt that Japanese cuisine is far more than sushi and teriyaki and katsu. Thank goodness.

Oh no, you have taught me that it is perfectly acceptable to have lamb and scallop in the same dish

Lamb and scallop entree from Nine Fine Food

And because of this, one day you will gently guide me to eat sashimi for the first time like my dining companions did.

One day... soon!

You reminded me that you can have a plate of little delicious things instead of a plate piled high with something that tastes the same.

Oceans main dish with salmon, seafood gyoza, scallop, prawn and tuna

And lastly, you taught me that dessert doesn’t need to be dense or sickly sweet to hit the spot.

Green tea creme brûlée, words cannot describe how divine it was.

But mostly I learnt that my friend Margot was quite marvellous for introducing me to the delightful, delicious Nine Fine Food.

The boom crash of it all it really rather exciting. I know I’m not eight years old anymore but I still count ‘one one thousand, two one thousand…’ to see how far away the lightning is. And the lightning that so close you hear the crack of it scares the heck outta me.

And when I’m awake that all good and awesome.

But thunderstorms in the early hours of the morning are about as bad as someone texting you in the middle of the night. You know it’s happened because it’s stirred and disrupted but not enough to completely wake you up.

There was one of those thunderstorms this morning and the end result was epic grogginess. There was not enough caffeine in the world this morning.

So I’ve learnt that thunderstorms are amazing. Unless you’re asleep, then they should have the common decency to pipe down and tiptoe away.

It’s not normal to be 26 and still have the whole set of grandparents, is it? And yes, grandparents are like those toys you used to get from cereal packets. Collect the set and then collect more than four because older people for the most part have fascinating stories to tell.

Anyway. The youngest of my four (still very much alive and kicking) grandparents had her 80th birthday party this afternoon.

If the collective longevity of my grandparents is anything to go by, then I can expect to live well past 80. Hip hip hooray! Somehow I doubt I’ll still be able to cram everything I want to into my projected long life. Not-so hip hip hooray.

I’m dead excited for this year and that’s due to the fact that however it turns out, the plan is to have learn a lot. Some of that may be academic, other things may just be life skillz (yes, with a ‘z’).

So I think this year’s general blogging motif will be sharing with you what I’ve learnt. The first one is a corker.

If 2012 is year of learning then amongst other things, 2011 was the year of learning to love eggs. Yep. Learning to love eating eggs. I had spent the previous 26 years positively phobic of poached eggs, boiled eggs, omelettes and quiche. A weekend in France fixed that because let’s face it: everything tastes better in France.

So today, New Year’s Day I cooked my very first omelette:

And as far as omelette cookery is considered, it was easier than expected. And more delicious than expected.

I used the taste.com.au recipe for Bacon and Cheese Omelettes and added a generous handful to spinach because leafy greens are good for you.

Omelettes where have you been all my life?

I’m trying to approach this letter writing malarkey with a bit of a gratitude bent. It’s a lovely opportunity for me to tell everyone how much I’ve enjoyed having them in my life – in whatever way that may be – in 2011.

Quite often I’ll walk to my closest post box which is about a 30 minute round trip. It gives me a chance to think about the person I’ve just written to – what they’re doing, where they’re at, how I hope their New Year will pan out. It’s all rather lovely, really.

But to present it in another way:

I’ll be updating this map sporadically with pinpoints of where I’ve written letter to. The bulk of them are so far contained to the North West corner of England.

I still have places if you’d like to receive a lovely handwritten, heartfelt letter from me. Leave a (moderated) message in the comments box!