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Marmite From Home - The perfect gift!
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This week I received a package from home. A friend I have known, since I worked at The Newcome Arms in Portsmouth, was chatting with me shortly after Christmas, about my new life in Australia. Gez was always a ray of sunshine — as I worked behind the bar, he often made me laugh and always made me feel welcome, included and appreciated, despite my rather dubious Bartender skills. He was, and undoubtedly still is, full of life, happy, and an absolute joy to be around. It's people like Gez I miss every day living in Perth, and one of the many reasons I still have a deep fondness for the country of my birth.
Gez was chatting about Christmas, and all the food he had to throw out, listing delicacies you can only find in Britain. Top of his list was good old 'Twiglets,' a savoury snack I have loved since I was a wee child. Apparently, according to my late Mother, 'Twiglets' are healthier than other similar treats, and I was actively encouraged to enjoy this acquired taste, in moderation of course.
Now, I have no idea if these are healthier than any other crisp, but they sure are tastier. Back in the day when I was young, these twig shaped Marmite sticks, were bigger than they are now. Apparently, health and safety deemed them a choking hazard; these twigs would often get stuck in my throat, so god knows what happened to other potential victims. However, I am digressing — Gez was explaining how much he disliked them, and just how many tubs he had thrown out, to my absolute horror.
'Gez mate, No, don't do that, I love them. Rather than throw them out, send them my way!' Even though I can get Twiglets here in Australia, the packets are small, and they cost nearly $4.00 a time, and a tub of them is impossible to get. Consequently, I'd be more than happy to take them off Gezs' hands, despite being thousands of miles away.
To be honest, I didn't think anymore about our conversation, after my off the cuff comments, until Gez asked if he could have my address; he had something he wanted to send to me. Six weeks later, I received a rather large parcel at my parcel collect address here in Perth. For those of you who don't know what Parcel Collect is, let me enlighten you:
The postal service in Australia is particularly insecure, rather like it is in Spain. Having lived in both countries, I can't tell you how many times I have lost parcels in their respective postal systems, so having a secure address for deliveries is essential. Mail is normally delivered to post boxes at the end of drives, and these poorly maintained boxes are often broken into and items stolen.
The post office in Midland contacts me when mail arrives, and I collect it, mostly without a hitch. It had been six weeks since Gez sent his parcel, and I believed it had gone missing, as so many others do here. What with the floods over east, and the lack of tracking, there is any number of reasons why, but, when I picked it up, I could immediately see it was from Portsmouth, and I realised it was from Gez.
Inside the box were four large tubs of 'Twiglets' and two jumbo jars of Marmite. Gez had remembered our conversation, and decided he would send me some provisions. He really does have a heart of gold and made my day. I haven't had British Marmite for years now, and although we do get 'Our mate,' which is the Aussie equivalent, it still doesn't taste quite the same; I was delighted to have some proper stuff from back home, and the taste is, well, glorious — if that's your kind of thing.
Living so far from home, you do begin to realise who your friends are. I was introduced to many new friends and colleagues while living in Portsmouth, and they are some of the best people I have ever met. Gez is an example of someone, who has quite simply left an indelible mark on my heart. When you meet the good ones in life, grab hold of them, keep them close and never let go — these are the friends who keep the memories alive, wherever I am in the World!
Gez was chatting about Christmas, and all the food he had to throw out, listing delicacies you can only find in Britain. Top of his list was good old 'Twiglets,' a savoury snack I have loved since I was a wee child. Apparently, according to my late Mother, 'Twiglets' are healthier than other similar treats, and I was actively encouraged to enjoy this acquired taste, in moderation of course.
Now, I have no idea if these are healthier than any other crisp, but they sure are tastier. Back in the day when I was young, these twig shaped Marmite sticks, were bigger than they are now. Apparently, health and safety deemed them a choking hazard; these twigs would often get stuck in my throat, so god knows what happened to other potential victims. However, I am digressing — Gez was explaining how much he disliked them, and just how many tubs he had thrown out, to my absolute horror.
'Gez mate, No, don't do that, I love them. Rather than throw them out, send them my way!' Even though I can get Twiglets here in Australia, the packets are small, and they cost nearly $4.00 a time, and a tub of them is impossible to get. Consequently, I'd be more than happy to take them off Gezs' hands, despite being thousands of miles away.
To be honest, I didn't think anymore about our conversation, after my off the cuff comments, until Gez asked if he could have my address; he had something he wanted to send to me. Six weeks later, I received a rather large parcel at my parcel collect address here in Perth. For those of you who don't know what Parcel Collect is, let me enlighten you:
The postal service in Australia is particularly insecure, rather like it is in Spain. Having lived in both countries, I can't tell you how many times I have lost parcels in their respective postal systems, so having a secure address for deliveries is essential. Mail is normally delivered to post boxes at the end of drives, and these poorly maintained boxes are often broken into and items stolen.
The post office in Midland contacts me when mail arrives, and I collect it, mostly without a hitch. It had been six weeks since Gez sent his parcel, and I believed it had gone missing, as so many others do here. What with the floods over east, and the lack of tracking, there is any number of reasons why, but, when I picked it up, I could immediately see it was from Portsmouth, and I realised it was from Gez.
Inside the box were four large tubs of 'Twiglets' and two jumbo jars of Marmite. Gez had remembered our conversation, and decided he would send me some provisions. He really does have a heart of gold and made my day. I haven't had British Marmite for years now, and although we do get 'Our mate,' which is the Aussie equivalent, it still doesn't taste quite the same; I was delighted to have some proper stuff from back home, and the taste is, well, glorious — if that's your kind of thing.
Living so far from home, you do begin to realise who your friends are. I was introduced to many new friends and colleagues while living in Portsmouth, and they are some of the best people I have ever met. Gez is an example of someone, who has quite simply left an indelible mark on my heart. When you meet the good ones in life, grab hold of them, keep them close and never let go — these are the friends who keep the memories alive, wherever I am in the World!
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