LOVE ON THE ROAD

Love on the road


This week ZoË and train man
go mountain climbing

THIS WEEK ZOË ENJOYS A SEX AND THE CITY DAY IN MELBOURNE

Forgot what a First World girl I am. Since arriving in Melbourne on Sunday I've ditched surfer-girl chic, had a haircut and bought some stunning silver heels. I'm preened, plucked and willing to ignore the fact this country is ridiculously expensive – even if Train Man isn't. Oh and I've finally seen the Sex And The City movie. It was the perfect end to a great girlie day. I packed Train Man off to the Melbourne Cricket Ground, while I discovered the hidden boutiques of Melbourne: vintage stores, beautiful stationers and cake shops galore – I love this city!

It's the quality time apart we needed after a tetchy end to Asia, and I planned to end my day on a solo date with Carrie and the girls. "It's OK, I'll come with you," said Train Man, as if he was sparing me from being that loser on their own in the cinema. What he didn't know is I wanted to go alone.

"No it's all right, you're not a fan. I'm happy on my own." What I really meant was: "If you come you'll scoff and that'll detract from my enjoyment."

But Train Man stood firm. He secretly wanted to see it.

"OK come," I conceded. "But only if you promise not to huff and puff – and not to get annoyed with my popcorn rustling. I've looked forward to this for months."

He promised. And he was a man of his word. Although I did catch him glancing at his watch halfway through. But I didn't care: the dresses, the laughs, the drama, Big…

But my First World revelry ran out when we got back to our digs. In Bali our budget bought us a marble suite; we're now sleeping in a stinky eight-bunk dorm. And the biggest shock about my new reality? I don't have Carrie's walk-in wardrobe. Gutted.

Miles travelled: 2,896

Terse sentences exchanged: 1

Bank balance: Plummeting

Next week: Zoë meets 'Russell Crowe' in the Outback

LOVE ON THE ROAD

Love on the road


This week ZoË and train man
go mountain climbing

THIS WEEK ZOË AND TRAIN MAN FIGHT THREE NOT-SO-WISE MONKEYS

Train Man is a resourceful person. Unlike throwaway old me, he saves string remnants ‘just in case', thinks odd socks might one day rediscover their soulmate, and has refilled the same plastic water bottle since Vietnam (eugh, the mouthpiece smells cheesy). It's half sweet, half annoying, and now it's caused us to fall out.

This morning, I woke up to the sound of someone running through our bedroom. I jolted upright then realised it was three monkeys thundering across our marble balcony (in Bali, rooms with marble balconies cost about 10p – I love Bali). As I ran to the glass doors I realised I'd left my bikini and towel out there overnight. My white two-piece was about to become a ten-piece.

"Do something!" I hollered to a half-asleep Train Man. Then, like that scrap between Colin Firth and Hugh Grant in Bridget Jones's Diary, I watched as he tussled awkwardly with a monkey in my honour. He managed to whip the bikini to safety, but as he went for the towel, the biggest monkey flashed its teeth, hissed and tried to get inside.

"Leave it, it's not worth it," I shrieked melodramatically.

"No way – that towel was 27 quid, they're not taking it." But they were. We watched as three macaques fought over my towel: pulling it, chewing it and wiping their bums on it.

After they swung off, Train Man went to retrieve it. "Don't touch it!" I yelled. "Monkeys have rubbed their bits on it!"

Train Man snapped at me for my throwaway attitude: "Don't be ridiculous, it'll be fine after a wash."

We're still bickering about the forlorn-looking towel strewn on the balcony. I say it's riddled with rabies; Train Man says it symbolises my wastefulness. But I've had my eye on a cute Billabong towel anyway, and as we fly to Australia tomorrow, it'd be rude not to buy it there…

Miles travelled: 101

Terse sentences exchanged: 10

Fist fights: 1

Next week: Zoë catches up with Carrie and co

LOVE ON THE ROAD

Love on the road


This week ZoË and train man
go mountain climbing

THIS WEEK ZOË KICKS BACK WHILE TRAIN MAN KICKS OFF

We have two weeks left before we fly to Melbourne, and we're ending the past five months of Asian craziness on a chilled high. Well, that's what I'd hoped. Train Man is driving me "doolally", to coin my favourite Indian word.

We're in the Gili Islands in Indonesia and it's my favourite place so far. I love it. Gili Trawangan has white empty beaches and we've been swimming with sea turtles and eating in amazing restaurants. And the best bit? Dogs are banned. I have been able to run around the whole island (it takes 45 hot but picturesque minutes) without having to duck and dive because of rabid dogs chasing my tail again. Oh, and there's a bar where they play Ricky Martin, which makes Train Man cringe but makes me want to shake my bonbon.

Trouble is, put Train Man on a beach and he has the attention span of a tropical fish. He starts pacing around and blocking my sun (grrr) after only 10 minutes. "Want to play frisbee?" "Please come for a swim." "There's bloody sand everywhere!" – my answers to which are: "No", "No" and "I know, you've just kicked 
it in my face!" Yesterday he tried to make me play with him by throwing the frisbee at my head, almost slicing off the tip of my nose (double grrr).

But just as I was getting really annoyed, I've been thrown a lifeline. This morning, as we were running, we heard someone shout Train Man's name. It was his workmate, Will, and his lovely girlfriend Desiree, who just happen to be holidaying here on this near-deserted island. Brilliant timing.

So I'm going back to my tanning oil (I know, it's terribly irresponsible) and Train Man is now throwing the frisbee at Will's head, not mine. Yay!

Miles travelled: 1,117

Terse sentences exchanged: 5

Tan tone: More Coleen than Cheryl

Next week: Zoë gets up to some monkey business

LOVE ON THE ROAD

Love on the road


This week ZoË and train man
go mountain climbing

THIS WEEK ZOË TRIES TO TALK TRAIN MAN INTO FATHERHOOD

After last week's hell up the mountain we've stuck to sea level for the past seven days. We've travelled to eastern Borneo and the Sepilok Orang-utan Rehabilitation Centre, where you can see these gentle apes up close.

Train Man is an animal lover. I love this about him despite the fact I don't like animals much. I like orang-utans – they're funny – but I'm scared of kittens and I hate dogs chasing me when I run. But put Train Man next to something four-legged and he gets clucky.

At feeding time, one orang-utan hugged the ranger who was standing beside us. Train Man melted. On our walk back to our hotel at the Sepilok Nature Resort, Train Man got all mushy.

"I wish the orang-utan had hugged me," he moaned. I had an idea.

"Let's have a baby! It'll be like having our own orang-utan, but better. You can hug it all you like and it'll look like a cute mini-you."

Train Man went quiet and pondered my proposal.

"Can you guarantee our baby will swing through trees?"

"I'll train it from birth," I replied. "Like a baby Tarzan. I'll have him swinging effortlessly through the sunny woods of Hertfordshire before he's two."

Train Man seemed compliant, then slightly panicked as if he'd just signed his life away.

"We can only have a baby if it has orange hair."

"But we're both brunette!"

"Well, I only want a baby if it can swing through trees and has long orange hair," he insisted.

"OK, I'll source a wig," I conceded.

Then he made another demand.

"It has to eat bananas."

"Now you're just being stupid," I huffed.

Miles travelled: 138

Terse sentences exchanged: 1

Chances of having a ginger baby: Low

Next week: Has Zoë finally found paradise?