28/08/11-
Boarding the plane late on the 27th we were treated to a fab inflight safety video which confirmed just how rugby mad the New Zealanders are. In essence the safety message was based around the game of rugby. We were also given score updates for the Australia New Zealand rugby match that was taking place whilst we were in the air.
Upon landing in wellington at 12.05 on the 28th August we disposed of our contraband cheese sandwich in the biohazard bin and proceeded to immigration. As entering Australia had been hassle free we had not bother to print off the visa. Mistake one. This did not please the immigration official but after some suspicious looks and questions we were allowed into the baggage claim hall. Whist I was collecting a trolley a customs official specifically sought out James and began to question him. He took our landing cards and with a flourish marked our cards with a red pen and told us he would see us once we had collected our bags. Ominous.
Thinking the official was just being officious we were fairly calm as we waited to exit the baggage queue but upon doing so we heard those dreaded words “please follow me sir.” The customs official had reappeared and directed us to the searching room and directed us to put the contents of our pockets on a table the James commented looked like an autopsy bench. Oh shit. We were going to be searched. The signs and environment mead out that the authorities were happy to turn us away for an infringement, of which there were many listed
The officer then proceeds to check our passports and write things in his note book. Things were not looking good and we are beginning to become worried and everything feels a bit official. Next up he begins questioning us about where we had been, whether we had contraband, what tablets we had, what drugs were in the bags all the while recording our answers in his book. He then decided that he is going to swab our personal possessions for drugs residue and gives us one last chance to confess ito carrying a kilo of heroin or such like in our bags. By now I am a bit shaky and the colour has drained from James face. Why us. What have we done. Thank god we did not have any free booze on the plane. Oh we don’t like this…
The officer asked us whose iPod is whose and does anyone else use it. Always being together we say we are sharing everything. This is not what he wanted to hear but it the truth. The swabbing takes place and when feeing the cloth into the reader it makes a hideous beeping sound and paper shoots out of the printer. This does NOT look good- we are NOT going to getting in!
We knew that we had not knowingly been in contact with drugs and there were none in our bag. Without this knowledge I think we would have fainted. The officer came back and again questions us again about our drug use whilst on holiday and in the UK. Had we bought drugs in the golden triangle (the Asia back packing route) were we sure there were no drugs in our bags etc. “Would you like to tell me what drugs you are carrying in your bags guys?” None we stutter. We are not sure he beleves a word we are saying.
Ominously he takes our passports into the back leaving us to sit outside in front of a two way mirror. Despite not having done anything wrong we are becoming nervous. Will our time in New Zealand end before it starts. Will we be cavity searched? Will we be put in a holding cell, will the round the world ticket cover a trip home, how quickly can we organise flights back… Our minds were racing. 10 minutes later he returns with our passports and is satisfied that they are genuine and we have not been in trouble. He then goes on to ask could we explain why there were small traces of MDMA (ecstasy) on the IPod and high traces on the money belt. We could not and our denials must have been akin to watching a teenager deny what appears to be the truth. Something must have convinced him as he then decided to let us into NZ - we did not need asking twice to leave the airport, after passing through the bio-security scanning machines of course.
Once at the hotel we were somewhat shaken up. We knew that we did not have a kilo of heroin or some such but never the less it was not a pleasant experience. We deduced that one of the lockers in which we had been storing our valuables must have had MDMA residue inside it but knowing this did not make us feel any better. What a nice welcome to New Zealand- the place of the friendly people. Well everyone but customs officials.
Oh god its 8am and time to get up again for our next flight. Sleep had not come easily the night before so we were not exactly refreshed. That said we were soon boarding a small plane for the hop over the Napier. Our initial impressions were that it was beautiful from the sky. That said the less then optimistic outlook of the taxi driver combined with our tiredness and the route she took left us worrying that we had made a massive mistake. Was Napier just too small??
After check in we went to explore and found that Napier was not as quiet and small as had been suggested. A second hand market soon cheered us up and before long we were buying mismatched plates and glasses. The afternoon was spent searching out rental properties, visiting food shops, buying simcards and having an early night. Still a bit jittery though.
In all the last 24 hours can certainly not be described as boring.
Sunday, 28 August 2011
Chickens Giblets….
27/08/11
It’s a flying day so suffice to say there is not much to blog about. Yes we taped a tent bag to James rucksack to make one bag and save extra bag charges. Yes the return bus tickets were not valid from this hotel so there is an impending argument to get a refund and Yes we are sad to leave but awaiting us is a flat and life in the sun… just need to find the flat, furnish it, get a car and insure it and a few small other things….
In the meantime here is Mr D Mallan’s final thoughts…
Well Luke has asked me to right a final few bits about Australia before we go our separate ways….so here goes…
Well has someone who has never travelled beyond Europe I did well even getting here but I’m so glad I did as Australia is an absolutely belting country
Things I’ve loved….
-the people everyone is so friendly confident and laidback I feel I could learn a lot, met so many people and talked to so many randomers and even gained a few friends along the way. I suppose they have to be laid back with so many potential harmful animals here!
-the outdoor way of life…I like sport and everyone here does whether its passionate support or more likely actively participating whether running along the river in Melbourne…what a place to run! Or just grabbing a board and surfing (something I can now do…well stand up)
-the beer…schooners what a perfect size more than a half and less than a pint…the beer is always cold and you get a nice level of drunk…oh and the wine (or goon) a box of decent wine for 8quid yes please
-the scenery have seen so many beautiful things including the best beaches ever and I’ve not even seen a tenth of the country!
-the randomeness of travelling meeting people (Lukes good at that) and suddenly ending up in a bar at 4am with some new friends…not Karl Kennedy unfortunately…
-my two travel partners…who to be fair have been mum and dad working together to ensure everything runs smoothly whilst I just chill…thanks a lot boys…its obvious you’re perfect together…
-working mens clubs…wipe the floor with ours!
-melbourne…what an amazing place…such a chilled vibe…outdoor way of life and the friendliest people…will defo be back!
-watching Newcastle beat sunderland in a random Sydney bar with 25 exiled Georides…singing our hearts out fantastic!
Things I’ve not loved….
Not much to be fair but…
-crossing the road…takes an age but the green man does come with a machine gun sound…has resulted in me J walking a lot of the time
-prices it is expensive (not if you live here) due to exchange rate...but I’m still within budget and its lead us to explore things we may not have done and look around for more baragins also Lukes cooked some fab meals!
-the flight…not as bad as I thought but 24 hours on a plane is tough especially as I’d exhausted all forms of entertainment…4 films, a book, some top gear, some conversation, 8 G and Tonics, one wine (reckon that balanced up the price of me flight) and the music channels…all I can say is thanks for Bach rescue remedy… a god send for nervous fliers like meself!
So back to England for me just in time for bank holiday Sunday and then back to normality…definitely got the travel bug and definitely will be back to explore more of Australia I can’t recommend it enough!
It’s a flying day so suffice to say there is not much to blog about. Yes we taped a tent bag to James rucksack to make one bag and save extra bag charges. Yes the return bus tickets were not valid from this hotel so there is an impending argument to get a refund and Yes we are sad to leave but awaiting us is a flat and life in the sun… just need to find the flat, furnish it, get a car and insure it and a few small other things….
In the meantime here is Mr D Mallan’s final thoughts…
Well Luke has asked me to right a final few bits about Australia before we go our separate ways….so here goes…
Well has someone who has never travelled beyond Europe I did well even getting here but I’m so glad I did as Australia is an absolutely belting country
Things I’ve loved….
-the people everyone is so friendly confident and laidback I feel I could learn a lot, met so many people and talked to so many randomers and even gained a few friends along the way. I suppose they have to be laid back with so many potential harmful animals here!
-the outdoor way of life…I like sport and everyone here does whether its passionate support or more likely actively participating whether running along the river in Melbourne…what a place to run! Or just grabbing a board and surfing (something I can now do…well stand up)
-the beer…schooners what a perfect size more than a half and less than a pint…the beer is always cold and you get a nice level of drunk…oh and the wine (or goon) a box of decent wine for 8quid yes please
-the scenery have seen so many beautiful things including the best beaches ever and I’ve not even seen a tenth of the country!
-the randomeness of travelling meeting people (Lukes good at that) and suddenly ending up in a bar at 4am with some new friends…not Karl Kennedy unfortunately…
-my two travel partners…who to be fair have been mum and dad working together to ensure everything runs smoothly whilst I just chill…thanks a lot boys…its obvious you’re perfect together…
-working mens clubs…wipe the floor with ours!
-melbourne…what an amazing place…such a chilled vibe…outdoor way of life and the friendliest people…will defo be back!
-watching Newcastle beat sunderland in a random Sydney bar with 25 exiled Georides…singing our hearts out fantastic!
Things I’ve not loved….
Not much to be fair but…
-crossing the road…takes an age but the green man does come with a machine gun sound…has resulted in me J walking a lot of the time
-prices it is expensive (not if you live here) due to exchange rate...but I’m still within budget and its lead us to explore things we may not have done and look around for more baragins also Lukes cooked some fab meals!
-the flight…not as bad as I thought but 24 hours on a plane is tough especially as I’d exhausted all forms of entertainment…4 films, a book, some top gear, some conversation, 8 G and Tonics, one wine (reckon that balanced up the price of me flight) and the music channels…all I can say is thanks for Bach rescue remedy… a god send for nervous fliers like meself!
So back to England for me just in time for bank holiday Sunday and then back to normality…definitely got the travel bug and definitely will be back to explore more of Australia I can’t recommend it enough!
Chicken does a bear bar…
26/08/11
We were from snoo to go including packing in one hour today. Now this is pretty good going as James and I have managed to acquire some 4 bags. We started with two and now have a tent, sleeping bags and a whole work ware wardrobe. Quite how I am going to get this on a plane remains a mystery to me but hopefully my winning smile or a large wad of cash…
Anyway we jumped in the car and headed back to Sydney. On the way we called in at a race track. The racing was fun and very competitive and I even managed not to push James of the track… more due to the fact that he moved out of the way. We also learned that we may be getting a bit past all out racing as James cut his back, I bruised my bum and chicken hurt his write.
After a stunning drive back in glorious sunshine we arrived at Bondi beach. Well you can’t come to Sydney and not go there. AAs time was pressing due to the car needing to be retuned and us not knowing where the hostel was we were limited to a quick photo and an ogal of the hotties (both male and female) who frequented this rather fabulous beech.
Next up was the challenge of getting to the hostel. James did a gallant job directing me using a map that did not show road names. After an hour tour of the CBD of Sydney gearing for the safety of the car due to the incredibly small lanes we arrived at the hostel. Screeching to a stop outside the hostel I chuck James and Chicken out of the car and headed back to drop the car off. Now the plan had been to find a petrol station along the way but there were none. So upon arrival at the car hire place with 20miniutes to spare I was dispatched to the petrol station which was “just under the bridge.” Predictably the traffic was horrific but with some good old Manchester diving I was back in time to drop the car off.
Being our last night in Oz we headed out for a night out. We opted for kings cross as it was supposed to be filled with an international crowd and be cheap. Cheap it was and the beer dinner and the rugby on the TV was cracking. Post this however cheap could be better interpreted as titty bars and pubs with rope lines and an aversion to trainers. After a quick drink we decided to head on back to good old Oxford road or Gay Street.
Our first bar looked busy but only upon entering did we realise it was a bear bar. Now for the uninitiated this means big hairy gay men (bears) hairy skinnier men (Cubs) and admirers of the above (seals). It was packed and everyone hairy and we had to squeeze past this delectable crowd (some of whom where hot by the way) and get to the bar. Feeling mean I pinched chickens bum and he looked round trying to find the source of the attention with a look of abject fear on his face. Poor chicken.
Next up was Britney night at the local club. Drinks flowed and soon it was time for chicken to mount the podium and dance, do pull ups… Woof woof. Somehow we managed to drag ourselves out by 12.30, got the last train home and had a good night’s sleep before our onward journeys. Well I supposed statistically speaking our sensibleness should shine though occasionally!
We were from snoo to go including packing in one hour today. Now this is pretty good going as James and I have managed to acquire some 4 bags. We started with two and now have a tent, sleeping bags and a whole work ware wardrobe. Quite how I am going to get this on a plane remains a mystery to me but hopefully my winning smile or a large wad of cash…
Anyway we jumped in the car and headed back to Sydney. On the way we called in at a race track. The racing was fun and very competitive and I even managed not to push James of the track… more due to the fact that he moved out of the way. We also learned that we may be getting a bit past all out racing as James cut his back, I bruised my bum and chicken hurt his write.
After a stunning drive back in glorious sunshine we arrived at Bondi beach. Well you can’t come to Sydney and not go there. AAs time was pressing due to the car needing to be retuned and us not knowing where the hostel was we were limited to a quick photo and an ogal of the hotties (both male and female) who frequented this rather fabulous beech.
Next up was the challenge of getting to the hostel. James did a gallant job directing me using a map that did not show road names. After an hour tour of the CBD of Sydney gearing for the safety of the car due to the incredibly small lanes we arrived at the hostel. Screeching to a stop outside the hostel I chuck James and Chicken out of the car and headed back to drop the car off. Now the plan had been to find a petrol station along the way but there were none. So upon arrival at the car hire place with 20miniutes to spare I was dispatched to the petrol station which was “just under the bridge.” Predictably the traffic was horrific but with some good old Manchester diving I was back in time to drop the car off.
Being our last night in Oz we headed out for a night out. We opted for kings cross as it was supposed to be filled with an international crowd and be cheap. Cheap it was and the beer dinner and the rugby on the TV was cracking. Post this however cheap could be better interpreted as titty bars and pubs with rope lines and an aversion to trainers. After a quick drink we decided to head on back to good old Oxford road or Gay Street.
Our first bar looked busy but only upon entering did we realise it was a bear bar. Now for the uninitiated this means big hairy gay men (bears) hairy skinnier men (Cubs) and admirers of the above (seals). It was packed and everyone hairy and we had to squeeze past this delectable crowd (some of whom where hot by the way) and get to the bar. Feeling mean I pinched chickens bum and he looked round trying to find the source of the attention with a look of abject fear on his face. Poor chicken.
Next up was Britney night at the local club. Drinks flowed and soon it was time for chicken to mount the podium and dance, do pull ups… Woof woof. Somehow we managed to drag ourselves out by 12.30, got the last train home and had a good night’s sleep before our onward journeys. Well I supposed statistically speaking our sensibleness should shine though occasionally!
Friday, 26 August 2011
I am in love…
25/08/11
I woke early and excited as it was surf lesson day. At the allotted time chickens alarm sounded and out came an extremely dishevelled and hung over man. With his flies down, red eyes and a monster hangover he looked rough. To add to the equation he had slept (passed out) on the sofa until 7am. Even worse for our methodical chicken he had lost his IPod. Sensing potential disaster I shovelled some cereals down him, some coffee and paracetmol. After finding his iPod down the back of the sofa I hustled him out to the car.
Arriving at the beech we met up with our instructor, Luke. After filling in some paperwork saying if we drowned it was our fault we donned a wet suit and headed to the beach. After a quick lesion and armed without 8ft boards we hit the sea. After some practice getting on the board and lying flat we were onto lesion two. Kneeling up. This passed successfully and lesion three was standing. By the end of the hour and a half we had both ridden a wave standing up. Not quite the 15 ft. ones further out but more the white water post wave break. As our lesson was over Luke headed out to play with the big boys leaving us to prefect our skills. An hour and a half later we were both riding small waves into shore. OH MY GOD what fun. I love surfing. Love love love it. If I don’t get a job in NZ I will become a beach bum and surf all day.
After a quick shower we boarded a whale watching boat. On the way out to the deep sea we spotted a seal and before long we were hunting whales. The sea was a little choppy and our whale decided to go to our left meaning the waves hit us from the side shaking us about. I pretended to surf (yes I am a big kid) chicken held on for dear life and worried about sinking and James became sea sick and spent the rest of the 2 hours being sick, feeling sick, lying down or hanging over the edge of the boat. So whilst James was otherwise indisposed the whale watching began. Whales are not frightened of us and for some reason like to perform. Our whale was black and huge and did all sorts of tricks, jumping through the air, flapping his tail, surfacing and blowing water up in the air and generally showing off. Watching this was spectacular but capturing it on camera rather difficult. With some perseverance and a lot of shots of spaced water we eventually got that covered picture of the whale jumping through the air. James on the other hand missed it all, rained the free sea sick tablets and generally prayed for the whale to bog off and for our boat to return to port.
On the way back to port we asked the staff if there were sharks in the water. We had studiously avoided asking this question as we had been in the water but with our water time passed we plucked up the courage. The answer was somewhat alarming. There are approximately 15 varieties of shark in the local waters three of which (the great white, bull and tiger) will attack humans. Chicken went white at the thought and I become even more practical and logical than usual. Well the other surfers are father out to sea and they will attack them first and what are the chance of a shark attack happening. The response (again unwelcome) was oh 6 months ago my friend was attacked and lost an arm. Check it out on Google. OMH like OMG
I woke early and excited as it was surf lesson day. At the allotted time chickens alarm sounded and out came an extremely dishevelled and hung over man. With his flies down, red eyes and a monster hangover he looked rough. To add to the equation he had slept (passed out) on the sofa until 7am. Even worse for our methodical chicken he had lost his IPod. Sensing potential disaster I shovelled some cereals down him, some coffee and paracetmol. After finding his iPod down the back of the sofa I hustled him out to the car.
Arriving at the beech we met up with our instructor, Luke. After filling in some paperwork saying if we drowned it was our fault we donned a wet suit and headed to the beach. After a quick lesion and armed without 8ft boards we hit the sea. After some practice getting on the board and lying flat we were onto lesion two. Kneeling up. This passed successfully and lesion three was standing. By the end of the hour and a half we had both ridden a wave standing up. Not quite the 15 ft. ones further out but more the white water post wave break. As our lesson was over Luke headed out to play with the big boys leaving us to prefect our skills. An hour and a half later we were both riding small waves into shore. OH MY GOD what fun. I love surfing. Love love love it. If I don’t get a job in NZ I will become a beach bum and surf all day.
After a quick shower we boarded a whale watching boat. On the way out to the deep sea we spotted a seal and before long we were hunting whales. The sea was a little choppy and our whale decided to go to our left meaning the waves hit us from the side shaking us about. I pretended to surf (yes I am a big kid) chicken held on for dear life and worried about sinking and James became sea sick and spent the rest of the 2 hours being sick, feeling sick, lying down or hanging over the edge of the boat. So whilst James was otherwise indisposed the whale watching began. Whales are not frightened of us and for some reason like to perform. Our whale was black and huge and did all sorts of tricks, jumping through the air, flapping his tail, surfacing and blowing water up in the air and generally showing off. Watching this was spectacular but capturing it on camera rather difficult. With some perseverance and a lot of shots of spaced water we eventually got that covered picture of the whale jumping through the air. James on the other hand missed it all, rained the free sea sick tablets and generally prayed for the whale to bog off and for our boat to return to port.
On the way back to port we asked the staff if there were sharks in the water. We had studiously avoided asking this question as we had been in the water but with our water time passed we plucked up the courage. The answer was somewhat alarming. There are approximately 15 varieties of shark in the local waters three of which (the great white, bull and tiger) will attack humans. Chicken went white at the thought and I become even more practical and logical than usual. Well the other surfers are father out to sea and they will attack them first and what are the chance of a shark attack happening. The response (again unwelcome) was oh 6 months ago my friend was attacked and lost an arm. Check it out on Google. OMH like OMG
Chick hits the wine and “mum” cooks.
24/08/11
Today was sand surfing day and we headed off to the dunes with some trepidation and a good measure of excitement. Upon arrival we found 50 school kids and 30 Korean tourists waiting. Now the school kids we had expected but the 30-50 Koreans in full on day ware we had not. Anyway we boarded the dune bus and headed over to the start line
Oh my the dunes were big. Each of our playgrounds stood at 25-30m high and were very steep. After divesting ourselves of shoes and outer layers we trudged up the dune. Now as you can expect this was hard work and we knew it would only get harder as they morning went on. Once atop the dune there was a good measure of fear but never wanting to wimp out I jumped on, well sat on my board (2m long by 45cm wide) and headed down the hill. The first few attempts saw us get sand in our face; fall over in an impressive number of ways. As the morning progressed and the sun grew hotter we improved to the extent we could pull a skid finish at the bottom.
After a another whiz round Coles we were back at the cabin for lunch. Of course there was a post lunch sleep and after that we soaked up the winter rays and read. Mum (James) then took over the kitchen whilst the boys went out to the pub. We met some real ozzies who were fishermen, bar owners and holiday cabin mangers. After 4 schooners and a good chat we headed back to mum. James had prepared on of his legionary Bolognese and we ploughed into this, pasta and garlic bread with delight. Post dinner James uploaded photos, I read my book and chicken got on a drinking mission. Around 10 we left chicken with a box of goon (cheap white wine) and headed to bed.
Today was sand surfing day and we headed off to the dunes with some trepidation and a good measure of excitement. Upon arrival we found 50 school kids and 30 Korean tourists waiting. Now the school kids we had expected but the 30-50 Koreans in full on day ware we had not. Anyway we boarded the dune bus and headed over to the start line
Oh my the dunes were big. Each of our playgrounds stood at 25-30m high and were very steep. After divesting ourselves of shoes and outer layers we trudged up the dune. Now as you can expect this was hard work and we knew it would only get harder as they morning went on. Once atop the dune there was a good measure of fear but never wanting to wimp out I jumped on, well sat on my board (2m long by 45cm wide) and headed down the hill. The first few attempts saw us get sand in our face; fall over in an impressive number of ways. As the morning progressed and the sun grew hotter we improved to the extent we could pull a skid finish at the bottom.
After a another whiz round Coles we were back at the cabin for lunch. Of course there was a post lunch sleep and after that we soaked up the winter rays and read. Mum (James) then took over the kitchen whilst the boys went out to the pub. We met some real ozzies who were fishermen, bar owners and holiday cabin mangers. After 4 schooners and a good chat we headed back to mum. James had prepared on of his legionary Bolognese and we ploughed into this, pasta and garlic bread with delight. Post dinner James uploaded photos, I read my book and chicken got on a drinking mission. Around 10 we left chicken with a box of goon (cheap white wine) and headed to bed.
Tuesday, 23 August 2011
The one the only Mr David Chicken Mallen…
22nd August 2011
Well after much promised appearances and with only 4days of me zO adventure left, its chicken doing a much vaunted guest appearance on this much fabled blog! Apologies if I ramble or me spelling or punctuation is very poor!
So after 4 days in Sydney today saw the start of our road trip adventure up to Port Stephens on the East coast. We woke early well two of us did it was with some trepidation I returned to the room after breakfast fearing a severe beating if I awoke James but miracle of miracles he was up of his own accord! So as Luke brought us our chariot….a white Hyundai we loaded it up me baggsing the back seat (no one argued with me!) and sharing it with most of our luggage including a recently acquired deckchair and sun lounger acquired from someone’s rubbish the day before and it was all systems go as we hit the road…at first resembling a native kangaroo as Lukes clutch control left a lot to be desired after 6months off the road (not that I’m complaining I would have hated to drive). We hit the highway with a lot of greenery and interestingly huge boulders separating the two lanes which I don’t think would have absorbed much impact in the advent of a crash! James took the time for a snoo and then rather predictably my colander like bladder needed servicing so we pulled into a roadside café which was basically like a shed full of truckers still needs must! But alas no toilet so upon Lukes advice I went in a bush (overcoming me fear of snakes….have you seen snakes on a plane??) and we had the opportunity for a large portion of chips…large being the operative word as it filled the 3 of us and it came with gravy which would have supported my weight it was that thick I felt my arteries clogging whilst eating it but tasty all the same.
Then we arrived in port stephens an area that I lack the words to describe its beauty adequately suffice to say just wow!!!! It’s a series of bays and is where a lot of sydneysiders holiday and it was my suggestion but I think I did ok! I like a beach and these beaches are from another level! We found our holiday park and our outrigger lodge now I had been warned James likes luxury but he had excelled himself here it was very homely and then the key event of any new destination with these two the drawing up of an itinery and this was a particular frantic one…we managed to fit in diving (James) surfimg (me and Luke) dune surfing (30m high dunes!) possible whale watching…hence a trip to tourist information (Luke likes a good question) and a trip to Coles (tesco) for the obligatory salad essentials and goon (cheap wine!) and basecamp was set! Then we did what any self-respecting 30 year old would do went cruising round the bays with the music up loud (the aussies like Phil Collins mind!) and windows down getting our bearings witnessing some of the most spectacular natural scenery I have ever seen (and I’m from amble!) unfortunately we all forgot a camera but its all places we will visit again for various sporting activitie,s before returning to the ranch.
Then in the evening we decided to visit the RSL ( a retired service mens club) now I am from oop north and I love a good working mens clubs but I wouldn’t describe them as tourist friendly! So I approached with some trepidation (a common theme of me on this trip and life in general!) but it was like a working mens club back home on red bull with its best glad rags on…swish doesn’t do it justice! Upon entering only on showing our driving licence we were temporary members! And was it worth it…hell yeah $4 for a nice beer (wide range as well) cheap wine and food which was exemplary my burger was up there in me best ever and despite me toned physique I’ve had a few! So different to back home...but this type of club would not work back home…in fact society would probs go to ruin…why I hear you cry well… gambling…this place was a den of inequity…in particular one game which went by the particularly innocent name of ‘keno’ now this was addiction squared particulalrly for someone with my addictive personality! Basically its like the lottery you match numbers but there is like a game every 90seconds and you may think you don’t want to play but the numbers are everywhere on every screen you can’t escape it…there is also a heads or tails game where you bet a dollar and decide out of 20 numbers if more off the top or bottom of the board are drawn or evens… now I like a gamble and James was like a pig in shit! Good thing dad (Luke) had kitty’s purse strings firmly in his grasp allocating only $20 for the 3 of us good thing as despite a few wins we lost it all (but we knew it would!) despite james winning $10 on the fruities he lost it all on a spectacular last bet… now as the schooners flew down you could keep betting and it got more and more appealing so we retired at the heady time of 9.10 back to the ranch for a few more beers and a game of cards where incidentally I notched up me first win of the trip…all in all in a holiday of consistently fab days this was up there!
Well after much promised appearances and with only 4days of me zO adventure left, its chicken doing a much vaunted guest appearance on this much fabled blog! Apologies if I ramble or me spelling or punctuation is very poor!
So after 4 days in Sydney today saw the start of our road trip adventure up to Port Stephens on the East coast. We woke early well two of us did it was with some trepidation I returned to the room after breakfast fearing a severe beating if I awoke James but miracle of miracles he was up of his own accord! So as Luke brought us our chariot….a white Hyundai we loaded it up me baggsing the back seat (no one argued with me!) and sharing it with most of our luggage including a recently acquired deckchair and sun lounger acquired from someone’s rubbish the day before and it was all systems go as we hit the road…at first resembling a native kangaroo as Lukes clutch control left a lot to be desired after 6months off the road (not that I’m complaining I would have hated to drive). We hit the highway with a lot of greenery and interestingly huge boulders separating the two lanes which I don’t think would have absorbed much impact in the advent of a crash! James took the time for a snoo and then rather predictably my colander like bladder needed servicing so we pulled into a roadside café which was basically like a shed full of truckers still needs must! But alas no toilet so upon Lukes advice I went in a bush (overcoming me fear of snakes….have you seen snakes on a plane??) and we had the opportunity for a large portion of chips…large being the operative word as it filled the 3 of us and it came with gravy which would have supported my weight it was that thick I felt my arteries clogging whilst eating it but tasty all the same.
Then we arrived in port stephens an area that I lack the words to describe its beauty adequately suffice to say just wow!!!! It’s a series of bays and is where a lot of sydneysiders holiday and it was my suggestion but I think I did ok! I like a beach and these beaches are from another level! We found our holiday park and our outrigger lodge now I had been warned James likes luxury but he had excelled himself here it was very homely and then the key event of any new destination with these two the drawing up of an itinery and this was a particular frantic one…we managed to fit in diving (James) surfimg (me and Luke) dune surfing (30m high dunes!) possible whale watching…hence a trip to tourist information (Luke likes a good question) and a trip to Coles (tesco) for the obligatory salad essentials and goon (cheap wine!) and basecamp was set! Then we did what any self-respecting 30 year old would do went cruising round the bays with the music up loud (the aussies like Phil Collins mind!) and windows down getting our bearings witnessing some of the most spectacular natural scenery I have ever seen (and I’m from amble!) unfortunately we all forgot a camera but its all places we will visit again for various sporting activitie,s before returning to the ranch.
Then in the evening we decided to visit the RSL ( a retired service mens club) now I am from oop north and I love a good working mens clubs but I wouldn’t describe them as tourist friendly! So I approached with some trepidation (a common theme of me on this trip and life in general!) but it was like a working mens club back home on red bull with its best glad rags on…swish doesn’t do it justice! Upon entering only on showing our driving licence we were temporary members! And was it worth it…hell yeah $4 for a nice beer (wide range as well) cheap wine and food which was exemplary my burger was up there in me best ever and despite me toned physique I’ve had a few! So different to back home...but this type of club would not work back home…in fact society would probs go to ruin…why I hear you cry well… gambling…this place was a den of inequity…in particular one game which went by the particularly innocent name of ‘keno’ now this was addiction squared particulalrly for someone with my addictive personality! Basically its like the lottery you match numbers but there is like a game every 90seconds and you may think you don’t want to play but the numbers are everywhere on every screen you can’t escape it…there is also a heads or tails game where you bet a dollar and decide out of 20 numbers if more off the top or bottom of the board are drawn or evens… now I like a gamble and James was like a pig in shit! Good thing dad (Luke) had kitty’s purse strings firmly in his grasp allocating only $20 for the 3 of us good thing as despite a few wins we lost it all (but we knew it would!) despite james winning $10 on the fruities he lost it all on a spectacular last bet… now as the schooners flew down you could keep betting and it got more and more appealing so we retired at the heady time of 9.10 back to the ranch for a few more beers and a game of cards where incidentally I notched up me first win of the trip…all in all in a holiday of consistently fab days this was up there!
Sunday, 21 August 2011
Rugby and salad
21/08/2011
A late start was had by all followed by some blogging after which I realised that the day previous we went shopping. Take 3 hours a discount factory outlet $400 and two boys can have shirts shoes trousers and socks aplenty for work. Well James for work and me for job interview just now. Going to have to get into the job hunting once we get there. In the meantime we are searching for flats online. We have sent our shortlist of properties to the letting agent that has Napier all sown up. Once we are there let’s hope we can convert viewings into moving in. Is three days from viewing to moving in too short???
Well anyway back to today. Once we got going we hit the Sydney rugby ground for a local rugby league match. The rugby was good and the atmosphere was fab. There was lots to stamp our feet and scream about and generally we had a royal old time. That said it was COLD with a capital C. We looked like frigging eskimos with about 6 layers on each. Oh well I suppose it’s just like a British summer.
We have decided to take it easy tonight so we stayed in the hostel and had a sexy salad (even if I do say so myself) with some entrees to start. As you know I love to cook and my confidence was buoyed somewhat when people kept coming to ask if they could have some or whether I would be cooking tomorrow. Best of all were the two French yes French girls who commented on my culinary skills.
A late start was had by all followed by some blogging after which I realised that the day previous we went shopping. Take 3 hours a discount factory outlet $400 and two boys can have shirts shoes trousers and socks aplenty for work. Well James for work and me for job interview just now. Going to have to get into the job hunting once we get there. In the meantime we are searching for flats online. We have sent our shortlist of properties to the letting agent that has Napier all sown up. Once we are there let’s hope we can convert viewings into moving in. Is three days from viewing to moving in too short???
Well anyway back to today. Once we got going we hit the Sydney rugby ground for a local rugby league match. The rugby was good and the atmosphere was fab. There was lots to stamp our feet and scream about and generally we had a royal old time. That said it was COLD with a capital C. We looked like frigging eskimos with about 6 layers on each. Oh well I suppose it’s just like a British summer.
We have decided to take it easy tonight so we stayed in the hostel and had a sexy salad (even if I do say so myself) with some entrees to start. As you know I love to cook and my confidence was buoyed somewhat when people kept coming to ask if they could have some or whether I would be cooking tomorrow. Best of all were the two French yes French girls who commented on my culinary skills.
Saturday, 20 August 2011
A Manly day
20/08/11
Now this blog entry may sound like we spent that day fixing cars and lifting weights but in fact it describes our trip out to Manly. As you can imagine we were loving the photo opportunities this presented. Manly gym the Manly map and so on. So it was with some hangovers we embarked on the ferry crossing from Sydney harbour (much nicer in the sun) to Manley. Whilst it may have been sunny no one told the sea that it should be calm so we were treated to an Alton tower type ride with the boat bouncing and listing very heavily. Just what the nurse prescriber ordered for a hangover.
After 29 minutes with our breakfast just about still in our stomachs we were in Manley. Chicken being a brit around striped off and headed into the incredibly rough sea along with the others fully clad in wet suits and surfing. And it is at this point I decided that I was going to enjoy living by the beech in New Zealand as for everywhere I looked there were men in taught neoprene, semi undressed and completely undressed. Think James will have to give me bromine to keep me calm once we get to Napier!
So after this swim and porn session we headed to the fish and chip shop as when you’re in a place like Manly (Scarborough on crack in chicken’s words) you have to have fish and chips. Unfortunately the other entire tourist agreed and we engaged in the cue ride for 30 minutes to get our chips. The only saving grace was the fact they were very very good.
After a stole along the promenade again bring back memories of home- Yes it may be blowing a gale and it may be cold but we are on holiday and we will enjoy the beech said the many tourists who were also engaging is this pass time. Soon after we were eating ice-cream- yes it might be cold but we are by the sea side dam it!
We then engaged in the vomit inducting ferry ride back and came to the conclusion that Melbourne is far better than Sydney. Let me lay out our case. Melbourne has arts, culture and lots of green space in the city. Its people are friendly and the bouncers are not uniformly rude. Sydney feels more like a big city there is no green space or arts scene the people are less friendly and the bouncers just rude. So in the words of James let us settle this for once Melbourne is fabulous and Sydney sucks… End of.
The evening saw chicken be very adventurous and head out on his own to watch a Newcastle derby match which I am sure he will describe in his blog special but for all that really needs to be said was Come on Toon Toon army. 1-0
Now this blog entry may sound like we spent that day fixing cars and lifting weights but in fact it describes our trip out to Manly. As you can imagine we were loving the photo opportunities this presented. Manly gym the Manly map and so on. So it was with some hangovers we embarked on the ferry crossing from Sydney harbour (much nicer in the sun) to Manley. Whilst it may have been sunny no one told the sea that it should be calm so we were treated to an Alton tower type ride with the boat bouncing and listing very heavily. Just what the nurse prescriber ordered for a hangover.
After 29 minutes with our breakfast just about still in our stomachs we were in Manley. Chicken being a brit around striped off and headed into the incredibly rough sea along with the others fully clad in wet suits and surfing. And it is at this point I decided that I was going to enjoy living by the beech in New Zealand as for everywhere I looked there were men in taught neoprene, semi undressed and completely undressed. Think James will have to give me bromine to keep me calm once we get to Napier!
So after this swim and porn session we headed to the fish and chip shop as when you’re in a place like Manly (Scarborough on crack in chicken’s words) you have to have fish and chips. Unfortunately the other entire tourist agreed and we engaged in the cue ride for 30 minutes to get our chips. The only saving grace was the fact they were very very good.
After a stole along the promenade again bring back memories of home- Yes it may be blowing a gale and it may be cold but we are on holiday and we will enjoy the beech said the many tourists who were also engaging is this pass time. Soon after we were eating ice-cream- yes it might be cold but we are by the sea side dam it!
We then engaged in the vomit inducting ferry ride back and came to the conclusion that Melbourne is far better than Sydney. Let me lay out our case. Melbourne has arts, culture and lots of green space in the city. Its people are friendly and the bouncers are not uniformly rude. Sydney feels more like a big city there is no green space or arts scene the people are less friendly and the bouncers just rude. So in the words of James let us settle this for once Melbourne is fabulous and Sydney sucks… End of.
The evening saw chicken be very adventurous and head out on his own to watch a Newcastle derby match which I am sure he will describe in his blog special but for all that really needs to be said was Come on Toon Toon army. 1-0
Iconic sights and much much more…
19/08/11
After serving James his usual toast in bed (benefits of the free breakfast without actually going for breakfast!) We all set off into down town Sydney for a walking tour. The only downside for taking the pictures of iconic sights was the gale and the driving rain. One can officially tell you that it does in fact rain “abroad”
Over three hours we saw the sights including the opera house, Sydney Harbour Bridge, which Chicken told us (repeatedly), is based on Tyne Bridge, lots of English street names, and lucky pig with a shiny nose and cock. At one point we were told about gangs in the 18th Century capturing people, whipping them with socks filled with sand putting salt in their wounds and then keeping them hostage. The Saudi man next to me thought this was a bit much for the modern day… helpfully I told him that this was something that happened a long time ago. I assume the Saudis use less awful corporal punishment??
A few hours later we were in our glad rags and heading out for a Sydney night out. We hoped to be able to settle once and for all the question of which city was better. Sydney or Melbourne. We’ve had a night out in Melbourne and this was the return match. The blog tomorrow will reveal all!
Ok so to the night it’s self. After filling up on more cheap Chinese food we hit the streets. The plan was to hit a few straight bars and then the gay scene. The first bar had cheap drinks offers and that was the only plus side. The bouncers were huge and unfriendly and frankly we felt like paedophiles as the crowd were all just 18. After necking our cheap and surprisingly nice wine we were back on the streets. Next up was shark bar where again the bouncers were none too nice. Not to be deterred we had a drink, chatted and moved on.
The weather by now was turning into a full on gale and crossing the road chicken had his third and hopefully final fall or the trip. One moment he was jugging across the road in the driving rain the next moment he is doing a comedy fall with legs in the air and then he’s down on his arse and arm. Timed differently and we could have been visiting A&E but as it was his only injury was his pride and a wet arse.
Now of course the rain really began to fall and the wind rally began to blow. In England we would have had the requisite winter jumpers and coats. Here James and I were in jumpers and chicken being the hard Geordie was in just shirt sleeves. It was during this protracted walk to the next pub that we realised that umbrellas in Oz were just not like their British counterparts. Whilst outs are study and fairly wind resistant Australian ones are feeble. Walking along was like following an umbrella convention as we saw 15 abandoned and broken brollies. We may be loving Oz but one thing is for sure we have a better brolly!
Eventually we were in the next pub and I my most charming was I asked for three of the cheapest beers and chicken went to dry his bum under the hand dryer. Whilst drinking schooners of beer we decided that these pots were Dave Carter size- slightly smaller but packing an almost full punch and fitting neatly into his smaller hands. Yes with this level of insightful conversation it was clear we were getting drunk.
Next stop big gay bar were we were asked to fill in a sex survey for a LGBT charity. Chicken gamely engaged but somewhat struggled to complete it and probably painted quite an unusual picture for the researchers. Have you had sex with a man in the last year- No. Are you engaging in sexual encounters with Women- Yes. Do you do fisting….
Before long we were in a nightclub were James and I looked on as chicken owned??!! the dance floor before jumping on the podium climbing the pole and doing pull ups from the bracket scaffold that supported the pole. Next up in the chicken repertoire was press-ups on the dance floor and amazingly a girl that looked quite normal and about 25 took an interest in him. Obviously this display of sexual prowess had done the trick. That said after a quick dance she was off but chick need not have worried as he was shortly to receive the attention from (in my opinion) the fairer sex…
Before long we were in another bar and whilst James and I danced chicken had a rest. Looking hot in a blue denim shirt and muscle vest he had soon attracted the attention of a young man. Now chicken is a sociable kind of guy and got talking but out of the corner of my eye I realised that the man in question had ideas beyond talking and his hand was making its way up chicken’s thigh. Chicken firmly removed this and I skipped over to rescue the chicken. Now James and I were not happy at this point as how is it that the straight boy gets that attention and as far as we knew no one had been touching us up….
Our next encounter was with some fabulous drag queens with whom we chatted with. Whilst wearing not one but two corsets on of these fabulous ladies bemoaned the fact that the gay area was going downhill mainly consisting of hen parties and teenagers. She did however offer a glimmer of hope suggesting that the madri gras brought that area to life. So whilst being footloose and fancy free we may pop back.
As you can imagine time was ticking on and James opted for an hour of internet time back at the hostel leaving chicken and I on the town alone. I would like to recall some fabulous adventure that would titivate and scandalise in equal measure but alas we had a pint in a quite pub and then headed home. We did try for a final pint in the shark bar but when the bouncer asked where I had been and the response was Oxford Street (the gay area) he told us that we went getting in. A little earlier in the night and a few less beers under my belt I would have argued the toss and explained discrimination but he could argue that we were drunk and he looked like he would like to crush a pomm so instead we skipped on home. Gay dear I don’t know what he means. How very dare him!!!
After serving James his usual toast in bed (benefits of the free breakfast without actually going for breakfast!) We all set off into down town Sydney for a walking tour. The only downside for taking the pictures of iconic sights was the gale and the driving rain. One can officially tell you that it does in fact rain “abroad”
Over three hours we saw the sights including the opera house, Sydney Harbour Bridge, which Chicken told us (repeatedly), is based on Tyne Bridge, lots of English street names, and lucky pig with a shiny nose and cock. At one point we were told about gangs in the 18th Century capturing people, whipping them with socks filled with sand putting salt in their wounds and then keeping them hostage. The Saudi man next to me thought this was a bit much for the modern day… helpfully I told him that this was something that happened a long time ago. I assume the Saudis use less awful corporal punishment??
A few hours later we were in our glad rags and heading out for a Sydney night out. We hoped to be able to settle once and for all the question of which city was better. Sydney or Melbourne. We’ve had a night out in Melbourne and this was the return match. The blog tomorrow will reveal all!
Ok so to the night it’s self. After filling up on more cheap Chinese food we hit the streets. The plan was to hit a few straight bars and then the gay scene. The first bar had cheap drinks offers and that was the only plus side. The bouncers were huge and unfriendly and frankly we felt like paedophiles as the crowd were all just 18. After necking our cheap and surprisingly nice wine we were back on the streets. Next up was shark bar where again the bouncers were none too nice. Not to be deterred we had a drink, chatted and moved on.
The weather by now was turning into a full on gale and crossing the road chicken had his third and hopefully final fall or the trip. One moment he was jugging across the road in the driving rain the next moment he is doing a comedy fall with legs in the air and then he’s down on his arse and arm. Timed differently and we could have been visiting A&E but as it was his only injury was his pride and a wet arse.
Now of course the rain really began to fall and the wind rally began to blow. In England we would have had the requisite winter jumpers and coats. Here James and I were in jumpers and chicken being the hard Geordie was in just shirt sleeves. It was during this protracted walk to the next pub that we realised that umbrellas in Oz were just not like their British counterparts. Whilst outs are study and fairly wind resistant Australian ones are feeble. Walking along was like following an umbrella convention as we saw 15 abandoned and broken brollies. We may be loving Oz but one thing is for sure we have a better brolly!
Eventually we were in the next pub and I my most charming was I asked for three of the cheapest beers and chicken went to dry his bum under the hand dryer. Whilst drinking schooners of beer we decided that these pots were Dave Carter size- slightly smaller but packing an almost full punch and fitting neatly into his smaller hands. Yes with this level of insightful conversation it was clear we were getting drunk.
Next stop big gay bar were we were asked to fill in a sex survey for a LGBT charity. Chicken gamely engaged but somewhat struggled to complete it and probably painted quite an unusual picture for the researchers. Have you had sex with a man in the last year- No. Are you engaging in sexual encounters with Women- Yes. Do you do fisting….
Before long we were in a nightclub were James and I looked on as chicken owned??!! the dance floor before jumping on the podium climbing the pole and doing pull ups from the bracket scaffold that supported the pole. Next up in the chicken repertoire was press-ups on the dance floor and amazingly a girl that looked quite normal and about 25 took an interest in him. Obviously this display of sexual prowess had done the trick. That said after a quick dance she was off but chick need not have worried as he was shortly to receive the attention from (in my opinion) the fairer sex…
Before long we were in another bar and whilst James and I danced chicken had a rest. Looking hot in a blue denim shirt and muscle vest he had soon attracted the attention of a young man. Now chicken is a sociable kind of guy and got talking but out of the corner of my eye I realised that the man in question had ideas beyond talking and his hand was making its way up chicken’s thigh. Chicken firmly removed this and I skipped over to rescue the chicken. Now James and I were not happy at this point as how is it that the straight boy gets that attention and as far as we knew no one had been touching us up….
Our next encounter was with some fabulous drag queens with whom we chatted with. Whilst wearing not one but two corsets on of these fabulous ladies bemoaned the fact that the gay area was going downhill mainly consisting of hen parties and teenagers. She did however offer a glimmer of hope suggesting that the madri gras brought that area to life. So whilst being footloose and fancy free we may pop back.
As you can imagine time was ticking on and James opted for an hour of internet time back at the hostel leaving chicken and I on the town alone. I would like to recall some fabulous adventure that would titivate and scandalise in equal measure but alas we had a pint in a quite pub and then headed home. We did try for a final pint in the shark bar but when the bouncer asked where I had been and the response was Oxford Street (the gay area) he told us that we went getting in. A little earlier in the night and a few less beers under my belt I would have argued the toss and explained discrimination but he could argue that we were drunk and he looked like he would like to crush a pomm so instead we skipped on home. Gay dear I don’t know what he means. How very dare him!!!
Mainlining calming remedies…
18/08/11
Many months ago we booked flights to Sydney on one of Australia’s low cost airlines. Unfortunately there safety record had been called into question and they had been grounded for well over a month. Many a fitful peek at the website confirmed they were still grounded but a few days ago they got the go ahead to fly. Now this is good but this grounding combined with two envious flyers was never a recipe for success. Despite my reassurances that Tiger airways would be the safest they had ever been after the investigation both Chimp and chicken were not convinced.
The morning stated well as we arrived at the airport hassle free and after locating the barn Tiger airways operated out of we were though to departures (after being bomb swabbed a few times). Chicken then began his idiosyncratic ways of tapping the table in multiples of three, checking his valuables had not jumped out of his bag and main lining a claiming remind. The bottle sad three drops he opted for three whole droppers at a time. By the time we boarded chicken was Zen like calm possibly off his tits on legal calming remedies. The airline stewards then went into overdrive on safety asking us for a verbal conformation that we were physically able to open the doors in the event of an emergency as we were sitting in the emergency exit seats.
Heading down the run way chicken was still in a stoned like state reading a copy of means health and James began to fret. When we first met flying was no problem for him but over the years he has become steadily worse at take-off. This time there was fidgeting and some animalistic noises emanating from him. My reassurance was not much good but as I am writing this you can deduce that we all survived the flight and made it to our hostel.
At check in we were processed in the usual way and allocated our bed sheets. On a money saving initiative we had booked 3 beds within a 4 bed dorm. After assessing the room we decided that we were too long in the tooth to be sharing a room with some noisy 18 year old. As such I was dispatched to reception to see if I could cut a deal on the forth bed. Sometime later I retuned with a smile on my face having negotiated a sizable discount on the extra bed and the room was all ours.
After an hour or so planning our time in Sydney we hit the streets and headed to china town a place that always serves cheap eats. Armed with some insider knowledge we headed to a specific counter and asked for a small plate of whatever and got a $3 discount. Bargain- even more so as it was not advertised. After a scrumptious dinner we headed to the shark bar, an imitation of a Wetherspoons before hitting the sack... in preparation for our big Friday night out.
Many months ago we booked flights to Sydney on one of Australia’s low cost airlines. Unfortunately there safety record had been called into question and they had been grounded for well over a month. Many a fitful peek at the website confirmed they were still grounded but a few days ago they got the go ahead to fly. Now this is good but this grounding combined with two envious flyers was never a recipe for success. Despite my reassurances that Tiger airways would be the safest they had ever been after the investigation both Chimp and chicken were not convinced.
The morning stated well as we arrived at the airport hassle free and after locating the barn Tiger airways operated out of we were though to departures (after being bomb swabbed a few times). Chicken then began his idiosyncratic ways of tapping the table in multiples of three, checking his valuables had not jumped out of his bag and main lining a claiming remind. The bottle sad three drops he opted for three whole droppers at a time. By the time we boarded chicken was Zen like calm possibly off his tits on legal calming remedies. The airline stewards then went into overdrive on safety asking us for a verbal conformation that we were physically able to open the doors in the event of an emergency as we were sitting in the emergency exit seats.
Heading down the run way chicken was still in a stoned like state reading a copy of means health and James began to fret. When we first met flying was no problem for him but over the years he has become steadily worse at take-off. This time there was fidgeting and some animalistic noises emanating from him. My reassurance was not much good but as I am writing this you can deduce that we all survived the flight and made it to our hostel.
At check in we were processed in the usual way and allocated our bed sheets. On a money saving initiative we had booked 3 beds within a 4 bed dorm. After assessing the room we decided that we were too long in the tooth to be sharing a room with some noisy 18 year old. As such I was dispatched to reception to see if I could cut a deal on the forth bed. Sometime later I retuned with a smile on my face having negotiated a sizable discount on the extra bed and the room was all ours.
After an hour or so planning our time in Sydney we hit the streets and headed to china town a place that always serves cheap eats. Armed with some insider knowledge we headed to a specific counter and asked for a small plate of whatever and got a $3 discount. Bargain- even more so as it was not advertised. After a scrumptious dinner we headed to the shark bar, an imitation of a Wetherspoons before hitting the sack... in preparation for our big Friday night out.
Thursday, 18 August 2011
Back to civilisation and a Kebab
17/08/11
We wake again stiff and cold. What’s more it’s blowing a gale and raining. We can now most certainly tell you it does rain abroad! Thinking that the 2.30 bus is some time away we try for the earlier bus but alas our sleep in means we have missed it. So after another two games of cards in the tent (which I win much to James dissatisfaction) we pack up and head to that warm pub to eke out a few hours in the warm before the bus.
Two hours later having only spent 5 quid we are on the bus back to Melbourne. A quick change and we are on the train and after a trot round Southern Cross train station… the station with the worse signs on earth we are back at the hostel. He begins operation wash everything. We take over the laundry room and throw everything from shoes upwards into the washers and then the dryers. A celebratory kebab follows before we fall into bed all reciting James favourite saying “hello long lost friend.”
We wake again stiff and cold. What’s more it’s blowing a gale and raining. We can now most certainly tell you it does rain abroad! Thinking that the 2.30 bus is some time away we try for the earlier bus but alas our sleep in means we have missed it. So after another two games of cards in the tent (which I win much to James dissatisfaction) we pack up and head to that warm pub to eke out a few hours in the warm before the bus.
Two hours later having only spent 5 quid we are on the bus back to Melbourne. A quick change and we are on the train and after a trot round Southern Cross train station… the station with the worse signs on earth we are back at the hostel. He begins operation wash everything. We take over the laundry room and throw everything from shoes upwards into the washers and then the dryers. A celebratory kebab follows before we fall into bed all reciting James favourite saying “hello long lost friend.”
Innuendo and Hitch Hiking
16/08/11
Fuck me I’m stiff is what chicken wakes up to. Realising the innuendo we collapse laughing and chicken counts himself lucky that it was a mishap of the tongue. After a breakfast of cuppa soup and chocolate we set off for what is the most stunning walk of the three days. Standing high on the cliffs we can see for miles around. The sun is out the sea is twinkling and yesterday’s hard slog is forgotten. Well at least in the mind. Our limbs still remind us every step. I recall being 18 and carrying a pack for three days and not being as stiff as this. Oh dear am I getting old. We decide its use the effect of being upside down as opposed to the aging process.
We arrive at the lighthouse which promises stunning views and even better a café where we can have hot nice food. Only one thing stands between us and the feast for the eyes and belly… the steep admission fee. Even our best British ascent plea to just access the café and eat lots draws a blank response from the lady behind the till. Or sadness is soon forgotten though as we find the double chocolate and caramel ice cream and sit down to admire the view though the fence.
We had planned to take a hideously expensive taxi back to Apollo Bay but deciding we were brave adventurous travellers we embarked upon the idea of hitch hiking. I am soon dispatched to charm the locals and get us a ride back and upon the second asking our savour is found. Richard a beaded New Zealander is heading our way in a 4x4 with more than enough room for us. We are soon on our way back to civilization and 30 minutes later we are installed in the, local pub drinking a jug or two of beer. Bliss.
After trudging to the campsite, pitching the tent, having a hot yes hot shower and a nap we head back into town for a game of cards in the warm inviting pub. Dinner is delicious not only because it’s the first hot meal we have had in a few days but also because the food is good. A few beers later and we realise its 3 hours past our usual 7pm camping bed time so we hit the sack for our last night under canvas.
Fuck me I’m stiff is what chicken wakes up to. Realising the innuendo we collapse laughing and chicken counts himself lucky that it was a mishap of the tongue. After a breakfast of cuppa soup and chocolate we set off for what is the most stunning walk of the three days. Standing high on the cliffs we can see for miles around. The sun is out the sea is twinkling and yesterday’s hard slog is forgotten. Well at least in the mind. Our limbs still remind us every step. I recall being 18 and carrying a pack for three days and not being as stiff as this. Oh dear am I getting old. We decide its use the effect of being upside down as opposed to the aging process.
We arrive at the lighthouse which promises stunning views and even better a café where we can have hot nice food. Only one thing stands between us and the feast for the eyes and belly… the steep admission fee. Even our best British ascent plea to just access the café and eat lots draws a blank response from the lady behind the till. Or sadness is soon forgotten though as we find the double chocolate and caramel ice cream and sit down to admire the view though the fence.
We had planned to take a hideously expensive taxi back to Apollo Bay but deciding we were brave adventurous travellers we embarked upon the idea of hitch hiking. I am soon dispatched to charm the locals and get us a ride back and upon the second asking our savour is found. Richard a beaded New Zealander is heading our way in a 4x4 with more than enough room for us. We are soon on our way back to civilization and 30 minutes later we are installed in the, local pub drinking a jug or two of beer. Bliss.
After trudging to the campsite, pitching the tent, having a hot yes hot shower and a nap we head back into town for a game of cards in the warm inviting pub. Dinner is delicious not only because it’s the first hot meal we have had in a few days but also because the food is good. A few beers later and we realise its 3 hours past our usual 7pm camping bed time so we hit the sack for our last night under canvas.
Mud mud mud and a fire
15/08/11
After a hearty?? Breakfast of bacon and left over Macaroni cheese we set off on day two of the walk. To set the scene it was cold, raining and the mud was ankle to shin deep. In all a British summer. We trudged through the forest section of the walk making slow progress as the mud provided to be an obstacle course that was a worthy opponent. Chicken nearly lost a shoe, all of us nearly ended up face down in the mud and in general it was fairly hard going. That said the tress and surroundings were beautiful and we saw a real life live wild wallaby. WOW. It was just sitting by the path eyeing our comedic approach. After having its fill of amusement for the day he hopped off into the bush.
Eventually we found our spot for dinner. A cover hut in a camp site. Never have we been so pleased to see a basic hut as it was dry and out of the wind. After lunch of tuna on bread and some chocolate we set off for part two. This of course was the cue to see more signs warning us of snakes and so distracted was chicken that he had a comedy legs u in the air fall landing firmly on his arse and denting our tins of mega meal! After checking the tins were ok and chicken had not broken anything we photographed him and then helped him to his feet. With friends like us who needs adversaries?
Feeling rather cold, tired and knowing the there was still another two hours of walking we fell into step in silence. Our spirits were lifted however by the sight of a koala sitting in a tree. Sometime later we heard what only can be described as a sound you imagine someone would make if they were being murdered and or raped. Fortunately our friendly bus driver had told us this was likely to be a koala enjoying?? sex. Intrigued I set off to investigate and whilst is was not quick enough to observer the act its self I did see two koalas looking rather content.
After some more stunning cliff top scenery the end was in sight. The map showed us that there was about 30 minutes of walking left. Felling elated we had not reckoned on the sick jokes that awaited us.
The first was a river that required crossing without yes without the aid of a bridge. Now normally this would not be a daunting prospect when embarking on a post pub ramble but with 5 hours walking already under our belts and 15kg on our backs. So with some choice language and fist shaking we took off our boots, hoisted up our trousers and crossed the cold cold cold river.
The second challenge was the steep climb up to where our campsite should have been. Some 262 steps stood between us and a lie down. Moving at a pass fitting with our new found tortoise status we ascended the hill to where the campsite should have been. Upon arrival we were at a loss as to said sites location. Sensing despair in the air I left James and Chicken and jogged yes jogged along the path to see if it was a little further. Now if I believed in god I would say he rewarded my resilience with another wild life sighting a huge black wallaby that eyed my approach but steadfastly refused to move. Slowing down I began to wonder how this would play out. Would I be the first walker to be attached and eaten by a wallaby? Would I be eating wallaby steak for dinner? Well in the end it just hopped off but never the less it’s was exciting.
Retuning some 20 minutes later I found James and Chicken had located the camp sight- about 3 meters for our original location. Feeling a sense of relief we set about making camp. Chick and I set up the tent, James made house inside it and then beg to boil water for dinner. Chick and I engaged in some hunter gathering for our camp fire. Being in the bush provided us with lots of things that were extremely combustible and within no time the fire was burning well. We found that eucalyptus burns extremely well probably due to its high oil content.
The evening was spent sitting round the camp fire eating another camping meal prepared by James. This time it was smash and mega meal (sausage and beans) cooked and served in the German army mess tins I had bought. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
After a hearty?? Breakfast of bacon and left over Macaroni cheese we set off on day two of the walk. To set the scene it was cold, raining and the mud was ankle to shin deep. In all a British summer. We trudged through the forest section of the walk making slow progress as the mud provided to be an obstacle course that was a worthy opponent. Chicken nearly lost a shoe, all of us nearly ended up face down in the mud and in general it was fairly hard going. That said the tress and surroundings were beautiful and we saw a real life live wild wallaby. WOW. It was just sitting by the path eyeing our comedic approach. After having its fill of amusement for the day he hopped off into the bush.
Eventually we found our spot for dinner. A cover hut in a camp site. Never have we been so pleased to see a basic hut as it was dry and out of the wind. After lunch of tuna on bread and some chocolate we set off for part two. This of course was the cue to see more signs warning us of snakes and so distracted was chicken that he had a comedy legs u in the air fall landing firmly on his arse and denting our tins of mega meal! After checking the tins were ok and chicken had not broken anything we photographed him and then helped him to his feet. With friends like us who needs adversaries?
Feeling rather cold, tired and knowing the there was still another two hours of walking we fell into step in silence. Our spirits were lifted however by the sight of a koala sitting in a tree. Sometime later we heard what only can be described as a sound you imagine someone would make if they were being murdered and or raped. Fortunately our friendly bus driver had told us this was likely to be a koala enjoying?? sex. Intrigued I set off to investigate and whilst is was not quick enough to observer the act its self I did see two koalas looking rather content.
After some more stunning cliff top scenery the end was in sight. The map showed us that there was about 30 minutes of walking left. Felling elated we had not reckoned on the sick jokes that awaited us.
The first was a river that required crossing without yes without the aid of a bridge. Now normally this would not be a daunting prospect when embarking on a post pub ramble but with 5 hours walking already under our belts and 15kg on our backs. So with some choice language and fist shaking we took off our boots, hoisted up our trousers and crossed the cold cold cold river.
The second challenge was the steep climb up to where our campsite should have been. Some 262 steps stood between us and a lie down. Moving at a pass fitting with our new found tortoise status we ascended the hill to where the campsite should have been. Upon arrival we were at a loss as to said sites location. Sensing despair in the air I left James and Chicken and jogged yes jogged along the path to see if it was a little further. Now if I believed in god I would say he rewarded my resilience with another wild life sighting a huge black wallaby that eyed my approach but steadfastly refused to move. Slowing down I began to wonder how this would play out. Would I be the first walker to be attached and eaten by a wallaby? Would I be eating wallaby steak for dinner? Well in the end it just hopped off but never the less it’s was exciting.
Retuning some 20 minutes later I found James and Chicken had located the camp sight- about 3 meters for our original location. Feeling a sense of relief we set about making camp. Chick and I set up the tent, James made house inside it and then beg to boil water for dinner. Chick and I engaged in some hunter gathering for our camp fire. Being in the bush provided us with lots of things that were extremely combustible and within no time the fire was burning well. We found that eucalyptus burns extremely well probably due to its high oil content.
The evening was spent sitting round the camp fire eating another camping meal prepared by James. This time it was smash and mega meal (sausage and beans) cooked and served in the German army mess tins I had bought. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
The adventure begins and chick falls
14/8/11
Knocking on chickens door at 7am I discover that his night out had tuned into a big one and he had not slept having only just rolled back to the accommodation. So it was with a still tipsy chicken and intrepid chimp that we set off on our adventure to the great ocean road.
On our journey we had met the a most stage man on the way who would be described by Australians as a Bogan or in our terms a chav. Still drunk, seemingly still drunk from the night before and somehow missing his wife and children who appeared not to have boarded the same bus as him. Well it provided some comedy for us on our journey. We did however have a lovely bus driver who woke us from our slumber by enquiring over the PA system if we had ever seen Koalas in the wild. Predictably we said no and he pulled the 60 seater buss to the kerb, jumped out, beckoning us to follow and pointed out a sleeping koala. Well you would get that in the UK- the koala or the friendly bus driver!
5 hours later we were in Apollo Bay wolfing down what would be our last hot meal- a portion of fish and chips. We called in at the information centre and met the most ineffectual information assistant who told us that the tide should be out, proffered a tide time table and said we probably did not need a map. We in fact opted for a proper map and in time to come we would be grateful for that decision.
So fortified and mapped up we set off for our big adventure. The scenery was stunning and the weather whilst cold was sunny. The foist few hours passed by fairly uneventfully with all of us studiously ignoring the signs warning us that there were snakes on the trail. We thought they would be sleeping as it was winter. After a while we began to encounter decision points giving us the option of the beech path or the bush path. Consulting the handy map we discovered the beech path was more direct to opted for that. We had however not considered the fact that there would be some bouldering/ climbing required to keep our feet out of the sea. The climbing was not strenuous but with 15kg strapped to our backs it proved to be somewhat more difficult. Looking like a tortoise carrying its home on its back. Unfortunately we proved not to that agile and if anyone had been watching we could have feature on you’ve been framed. A few seconds later we would have been guaranteed a slot when chicken slipped from the rocks and ended up sitting in the sea in a state for some distress. Had he not looked like he had hurt himself there would have been photos to record this moment but unfortunately he had cut his wrist and given himself a nice bruised and his ass (there are photos of that!)
The rest of the afternoon passed off without incident and we arrived at the camp sight. After setting up the tent we set about organising dinner. We had expected that rain butt water to be ropy but not green. Never did I think that filtering water though a tee shirt that James had been wearing all day would prove (somewhat amazingly) to be a more enticing option than drinking water un filtered. After throwing in a water cleansing tablet and boiling it for 10 minutes we felt ready to begin cooking. Our menu was classic camping- packet macaroni cheese served with squashed bread. Delicious it was not but being filling and warm it was very welcomed.
Darkness was complete and all-encompassing by 7pm so this was our cue to hit the sack for a cold but surprisingly long sleep.
Knocking on chickens door at 7am I discover that his night out had tuned into a big one and he had not slept having only just rolled back to the accommodation. So it was with a still tipsy chicken and intrepid chimp that we set off on our adventure to the great ocean road.
On our journey we had met the a most stage man on the way who would be described by Australians as a Bogan or in our terms a chav. Still drunk, seemingly still drunk from the night before and somehow missing his wife and children who appeared not to have boarded the same bus as him. Well it provided some comedy for us on our journey. We did however have a lovely bus driver who woke us from our slumber by enquiring over the PA system if we had ever seen Koalas in the wild. Predictably we said no and he pulled the 60 seater buss to the kerb, jumped out, beckoning us to follow and pointed out a sleeping koala. Well you would get that in the UK- the koala or the friendly bus driver!
5 hours later we were in Apollo Bay wolfing down what would be our last hot meal- a portion of fish and chips. We called in at the information centre and met the most ineffectual information assistant who told us that the tide should be out, proffered a tide time table and said we probably did not need a map. We in fact opted for a proper map and in time to come we would be grateful for that decision.
So fortified and mapped up we set off for our big adventure. The scenery was stunning and the weather whilst cold was sunny. The foist few hours passed by fairly uneventfully with all of us studiously ignoring the signs warning us that there were snakes on the trail. We thought they would be sleeping as it was winter. After a while we began to encounter decision points giving us the option of the beech path or the bush path. Consulting the handy map we discovered the beech path was more direct to opted for that. We had however not considered the fact that there would be some bouldering/ climbing required to keep our feet out of the sea. The climbing was not strenuous but with 15kg strapped to our backs it proved to be somewhat more difficult. Looking like a tortoise carrying its home on its back. Unfortunately we proved not to that agile and if anyone had been watching we could have feature on you’ve been framed. A few seconds later we would have been guaranteed a slot when chicken slipped from the rocks and ended up sitting in the sea in a state for some distress. Had he not looked like he had hurt himself there would have been photos to record this moment but unfortunately he had cut his wrist and given himself a nice bruised and his ass (there are photos of that!)
The rest of the afternoon passed off without incident and we arrived at the camp sight. After setting up the tent we set about organising dinner. We had expected that rain butt water to be ropy but not green. Never did I think that filtering water though a tee shirt that James had been wearing all day would prove (somewhat amazingly) to be a more enticing option than drinking water un filtered. After throwing in a water cleansing tablet and boiling it for 10 minutes we felt ready to begin cooking. Our menu was classic camping- packet macaroni cheese served with squashed bread. Delicious it was not but being filling and warm it was very welcomed.
Darkness was complete and all-encompassing by 7pm so this was our cue to hit the sack for a cold but surprisingly long sleep.
Ozzy football and chick date.
13/08/11
After another hearty and free breakfast we set off for a proper boy’s day out- Ozzy rules football. Well I can only describe Melbourne Cricket Ground as iconic, huge and very impressive. With a capacity of 100,000 it had the potential to blow out the ear drums but with only 27,000 people it was a slightly more sedate affaire. Now having only a little experience of sports stadia I was impressed. Everything was plush, clan and well organised. The fans were not the anti-social larger louts associated with British premier league, as everyone was well behaved and whilst beer was drunk it was in moderate quantities. Having Wigan (pie eaters) ground to compare the fair with I was impressed. The pies were seconded to none even better with lashing of red sauce on top.
Ok so the game it’s self. We were fortunate enough to sit near a couple who were happy to explain the rules. The pitch being circular and having four sets of rugby style posts had us somewhat foxed. The aim it transpired was to kick the ball through the two larger poles for 6 points and though the outer smaller points for 1 point. If a player kicked the ball to another and he caught it this was spotting which essentially meant that the other players had to stand back and let him kick it on. The rules apart from that appeared to be somewhat lax. The interpretation of tackling when the player had the ball could be at best be described as loosely enforced. If you had the ball were about to get the ball or had just had the ball you were fair game for a tackle, push or shove. Jumping on another players back leading with your knee also appeared to be fair game. In essence it was more brutal than normal football but not quite as brutal as good old Rugby.
After the match we headed back to the accommodation where we continued operation FIND CHICK A DATE. Two days previously chicken had been talking with two ladies from the UK. That morning we had spent time trying to catch the eye of the ladies in question in order to engineer a date for chicken. The necessity being that A) he like them and B) James and I were going out for a romantic meal for two that evening. The mornings operation had failed to garner a night out so undeterred Chick had James post a note though there door which said the effect of “Geordie seeks a night out want to come play?’ Well the note worked and Chicken had a night out with not one but two stunners and we had our nice meal for two.
After another hearty and free breakfast we set off for a proper boy’s day out- Ozzy rules football. Well I can only describe Melbourne Cricket Ground as iconic, huge and very impressive. With a capacity of 100,000 it had the potential to blow out the ear drums but with only 27,000 people it was a slightly more sedate affaire. Now having only a little experience of sports stadia I was impressed. Everything was plush, clan and well organised. The fans were not the anti-social larger louts associated with British premier league, as everyone was well behaved and whilst beer was drunk it was in moderate quantities. Having Wigan (pie eaters) ground to compare the fair with I was impressed. The pies were seconded to none even better with lashing of red sauce on top.
Ok so the game it’s self. We were fortunate enough to sit near a couple who were happy to explain the rules. The pitch being circular and having four sets of rugby style posts had us somewhat foxed. The aim it transpired was to kick the ball through the two larger poles for 6 points and though the outer smaller points for 1 point. If a player kicked the ball to another and he caught it this was spotting which essentially meant that the other players had to stand back and let him kick it on. The rules apart from that appeared to be somewhat lax. The interpretation of tackling when the player had the ball could be at best be described as loosely enforced. If you had the ball were about to get the ball or had just had the ball you were fair game for a tackle, push or shove. Jumping on another players back leading with your knee also appeared to be fair game. In essence it was more brutal than normal football but not quite as brutal as good old Rugby.
After the match we headed back to the accommodation where we continued operation FIND CHICK A DATE. Two days previously chicken had been talking with two ladies from the UK. That morning we had spent time trying to catch the eye of the ladies in question in order to engineer a date for chicken. The necessity being that A) he like them and B) James and I were going out for a romantic meal for two that evening. The mornings operation had failed to garner a night out so undeterred Chick had James post a note though there door which said the effect of “Geordie seeks a night out want to come play?’ Well the note worked and Chicken had a night out with not one but two stunners and we had our nice meal for two.
Thursday, 11 August 2011
Oh Oh Oh Oh
09/08/11 oh oh oh oh
The plan had been somewhat optimistically to wake up at 9am and have breakfast. As it happened I managed to surface at 12 and forage some food and chicken well he managed to get up at 1.30 and James well he never made it out of bed until 6pm.
When chicken did wake we stumbled over to Subway for a hangover butty. This was nearly the end of chicken and the world was looking pretty bad for him. Managing to keep the grub down but not rid himself of the shakes or the sweats we headed into Melbourne. Our pass very slow conversation somewhat halted but after an hours walk we were on a tram taking the Melbourne tour.
By the time we had walked home we were feeling much better and convened in what has become known as our corner. Here we wolfed down an amazing kebab, kicked back and surfed the internet before heading back to yes you guessed it bed!
10/08/11 chickens, monkeys and zoos
We actually managed to make breakfast today. Well chicken and I did. James had suffered with the ever coughing Luke and had opted for an extra hour shut eye. Never the less we were on the metro by 10.30 and heading into Melbourne. James and chicken went to the Zoo and our guest editor the one the only Mr Mallen will shortly provide a commentary on that event.
Whilst the monkey and the chicken toured the zoo I worried that they may not be let out again but never the less got on with my shopping expedition. Several hours of determined looking and I Came away with a tent, three roll mats, two German army canteens, two sleeping bags and a gas stove. Nowt like being prepared!
After dumping the stuff back at the hotel we reconvened for lunch… our first hot meal in 3 days. Yes I can almost hear your heart strings snapping but food is so chuffing expensive here. As an ever ready boy scout I had found somewhere cheap to eat and even let James order off the full menu!
The afternoon was spent touring the old Melbourne goal. Hear were saw and leaned about the appalling conditions, executions, the roll of hangman and flagellator and scared chicken half to death taking him up to the third floor balcony. Next we were processed into the holing centre of main Melbourne police station. The woman in charge was somewhat scary. She had us standing against the wall, shouted at us and only chickens arse scared us from a strip search. After being banged up in the holding cells which were in use until 1994. We all left with a mug shot and no desire to ever be processed in such a way.
Pining for home we hit yes you guessed it an Irish bar where we drank Guinness talked and listened to the banter.
11/08/11 Jimbo goes 29
Something very strange occurred this morning. Even more strange than James turning 29. At 10 am on His birthday we were in the GYM for a proper work out. The three of us cut a dashing gaggle in what can only be described as the gayest gym on earth. Think preening men, adverts for gay night clubs and lots of fit camp staff. Now as exsting readers will know James had signed up for a week’s pass. Chick and I found a free two day pass giving us free reign of the venue. After a very cursory induction we were off and an hour and half later we were ‘feeling the post gym burn’
After a quick wash we treated ourselves to a foot long subway before heading off to the cinema to watch some of James mates in action. The film… the rise of the planet of the apes. Not only did it feature James life like kin but actually was ‘amazing’ in James words and pretty good in mine.
Leaving chicken to oversee the washing we had a nap before returning to our corner to meet up with chicken. Here we had found that he had put his two hours to good use and had been chatting up two ladies one of whom was a teach but less excitingly from Wigan… yes yes my xenophobic rugby league bent is still with me.
After getting the low down from chicken we headed off to the Melbourne technical catering collage. I wanted to take James for a nice slap up meal but did not want to pay the slap up price. We were rewarded with excellent food and wine with somewhat nervous service as many of the waiters were on their second shift. It was very clear that some of them had never eaten in a nice restaurant as nothing came naturally. They were shy, would fumble with well everything, told us that the cheese plat was in fact a cheese flan and then after checking again elaborated as far a cheese with apple, nuts and crackers. That said the food was fab and the night a very enjoyable way to end Jimbo's last birthday of his twenties.
The plan had been somewhat optimistically to wake up at 9am and have breakfast. As it happened I managed to surface at 12 and forage some food and chicken well he managed to get up at 1.30 and James well he never made it out of bed until 6pm.
When chicken did wake we stumbled over to Subway for a hangover butty. This was nearly the end of chicken and the world was looking pretty bad for him. Managing to keep the grub down but not rid himself of the shakes or the sweats we headed into Melbourne. Our pass very slow conversation somewhat halted but after an hours walk we were on a tram taking the Melbourne tour.
By the time we had walked home we were feeling much better and convened in what has become known as our corner. Here we wolfed down an amazing kebab, kicked back and surfed the internet before heading back to yes you guessed it bed!
10/08/11 chickens, monkeys and zoos
We actually managed to make breakfast today. Well chicken and I did. James had suffered with the ever coughing Luke and had opted for an extra hour shut eye. Never the less we were on the metro by 10.30 and heading into Melbourne. James and chicken went to the Zoo and our guest editor the one the only Mr Mallen will shortly provide a commentary on that event.
Whilst the monkey and the chicken toured the zoo I worried that they may not be let out again but never the less got on with my shopping expedition. Several hours of determined looking and I Came away with a tent, three roll mats, two German army canteens, two sleeping bags and a gas stove. Nowt like being prepared!
After dumping the stuff back at the hotel we reconvened for lunch… our first hot meal in 3 days. Yes I can almost hear your heart strings snapping but food is so chuffing expensive here. As an ever ready boy scout I had found somewhere cheap to eat and even let James order off the full menu!
The afternoon was spent touring the old Melbourne goal. Hear were saw and leaned about the appalling conditions, executions, the roll of hangman and flagellator and scared chicken half to death taking him up to the third floor balcony. Next we were processed into the holing centre of main Melbourne police station. The woman in charge was somewhat scary. She had us standing against the wall, shouted at us and only chickens arse scared us from a strip search. After being banged up in the holding cells which were in use until 1994. We all left with a mug shot and no desire to ever be processed in such a way.
Pining for home we hit yes you guessed it an Irish bar where we drank Guinness talked and listened to the banter.
11/08/11 Jimbo goes 29
Something very strange occurred this morning. Even more strange than James turning 29. At 10 am on His birthday we were in the GYM for a proper work out. The three of us cut a dashing gaggle in what can only be described as the gayest gym on earth. Think preening men, adverts for gay night clubs and lots of fit camp staff. Now as exsting readers will know James had signed up for a week’s pass. Chick and I found a free two day pass giving us free reign of the venue. After a very cursory induction we were off and an hour and half later we were ‘feeling the post gym burn’
After a quick wash we treated ourselves to a foot long subway before heading off to the cinema to watch some of James mates in action. The film… the rise of the planet of the apes. Not only did it feature James life like kin but actually was ‘amazing’ in James words and pretty good in mine.
Leaving chicken to oversee the washing we had a nap before returning to our corner to meet up with chicken. Here we had found that he had put his two hours to good use and had been chatting up two ladies one of whom was a teach but less excitingly from Wigan… yes yes my xenophobic rugby league bent is still with me.
After getting the low down from chicken we headed off to the Melbourne technical catering collage. I wanted to take James for a nice slap up meal but did not want to pay the slap up price. We were rewarded with excellent food and wine with somewhat nervous service as many of the waiters were on their second shift. It was very clear that some of them had never eaten in a nice restaurant as nothing came naturally. They were shy, would fumble with well everything, told us that the cheese plat was in fact a cheese flan and then after checking again elaborated as far a cheese with apple, nuts and crackers. That said the food was fab and the night a very enjoyable way to end Jimbo's last birthday of his twenties.
Tuesday, 9 August 2011
Culture and Carnage
09/08/11
Today was an event of two distinct half’s. Waking at a respectable time we breakfasted together before heading into Melbourne to explore the cultural delights on offer. We stopped at the immigration museum and explore a wonderful set of exhibits including some clearly designed to challenge perceptions in the modern day. There was also many interactive exhibits include reviewing immigration applications and either granting or rejecting them. James took to this with a real zeal and all I can say is that I hope I never have to present my case to immigration officer Rushby as I doubt I or many others would be getting in… nurses and fit sports stars should be ok though.
The afternoon saw us lunching by the river before walking back though the botanical gardens. Back at the hostel we chatted with some school teachers before having nice meal together.
Then the low culture and carnage began… We headed out to the neighbours night were we met actual neighbours celebrities incuding Dr Karl Kennedy!!! WOW WOW WOW. As an 80’s child this is pretty special as every evening at 5.35 each day we and all other school children would tune in to watch Neighbours. The venue was an English pub and whilst we have been to many “English” pubs abroad that don’t live up to their billing this certainly did. The decor was a faithful rendition of a proper boozer right down to the faint whiff of hovered up sick. The clientele were also similar to that at home. Manly straight English men and women a few gay ones a small smattering of Australians, some Irish, Welsh, Scottish and one Japanese.
After installing ourselves in the bar with a good view of the stage we submitted our question to the star… “Dr Karl if you could cheat again with any woman past or present in neighbours who would it be?” We thought this was in chickens words a “cracking’ question but alas it was never answered.
Shortly before the neighbour’s stars appeared we were joined by two girls from Northern Ireland. Belfast to be precise. Chick’s eyes lit up as he had been hoping for some female company. We began talking to them and chicken made a decision that would haunt him for the rest of the night… he chatted to the less attractive of the two girls and she took a shine to him whilst he really wanted the other one. Despite some match making from me the hotty would not trample on here cousins feet even though both chicken and she fancied on another. More later…
So the night began and two “new” neighbour’s actors appeared on stage to a moderate ripple of applause and then the crowd of 25-35 year olds whet wild as the legend that is Dr Karl Kennedy made his debut. Now here was a 50 something man that clearly loved his job and was living the dream. To almost universal cat calls of appreciation from man and women gay and straight he took to the stage and launched into some witty banter before heading round to be photographed with the guests. The photos which James will no doubt put on Facebook are testament to our excitement of meeting this legend combined with our worrying levels of intoxication on Australian wine.
Post photos and the quiz it was time for pub party games. The first was an 18-30 stylee snogathon. Later games included singing, acting and then low and behold dancing. And this is where my night took a decided turn for the worse. The compere noticing that I was rather exuberant decided that I should enter the competition. Now I am not usually shy at taking centre stage but I know my limitations. Unfortunately he did not. Refusing to take no for an answer I was dragged yes dragged backwards heals digging into the ground all the way up to the stage. Here in front of 80 people I was instructed to dance as the first of 5 competitors. All I can say is thank goodness there was not a camera to film me as the dispersal of the crowed at the end of the night saw the witnesses disappear and my horrific dancing dissipating into a the fog of memory.
Dr Karl then took to the stage with his band and again the crowd went wild and much drinking and dancing ensured. Coming round to 11pm we decided that we would head off for one drink in the local gay bar before heading home. By now chickens lust for the sexy one had increased and he began a charm offensive. His jokes were coming thick and fast but he was constantly deadpanning but despite our attempts to shut him up he continued. 15 excruciating minutes later the charm offensive had come to an end but alas the sexy one was not wooed.
The five of us headed off to the gay bar and were greeted by a fabulous drag queen tottering about in high heels and inch think makeup. One drink somehow turned into two more bottles of wine and being well tanked up we hit the dance floor. Chicken turned his afternoon to the less sexy of the two girls and was kissing her in no time... She thought she had a promise on and tried to take chicken home and was most put out when he said and I quote “I am not that type of boy.” Well this was the last straw for her and she made a swift exit. One may think this was part of chicken’s master plan as he was alone with the sexy one but despite getting top marks for effort she was not falling for the Geordie patter.
As the night progressed the carnage that was our night out increased. Reviewing the photographs we see that James’s head was forced into the crotch of the drag queen, I shed most of my clothes and was recorded dancing in just a vest top and jeans, chicken tried to “own the stage” much to the annoyance of the drag queen who pushed him off and… well that’s enough for one night!
Today was an event of two distinct half’s. Waking at a respectable time we breakfasted together before heading into Melbourne to explore the cultural delights on offer. We stopped at the immigration museum and explore a wonderful set of exhibits including some clearly designed to challenge perceptions in the modern day. There was also many interactive exhibits include reviewing immigration applications and either granting or rejecting them. James took to this with a real zeal and all I can say is that I hope I never have to present my case to immigration officer Rushby as I doubt I or many others would be getting in… nurses and fit sports stars should be ok though.
The afternoon saw us lunching by the river before walking back though the botanical gardens. Back at the hostel we chatted with some school teachers before having nice meal together.
Then the low culture and carnage began… We headed out to the neighbours night were we met actual neighbours celebrities incuding Dr Karl Kennedy!!! WOW WOW WOW. As an 80’s child this is pretty special as every evening at 5.35 each day we and all other school children would tune in to watch Neighbours. The venue was an English pub and whilst we have been to many “English” pubs abroad that don’t live up to their billing this certainly did. The decor was a faithful rendition of a proper boozer right down to the faint whiff of hovered up sick. The clientele were also similar to that at home. Manly straight English men and women a few gay ones a small smattering of Australians, some Irish, Welsh, Scottish and one Japanese.
After installing ourselves in the bar with a good view of the stage we submitted our question to the star… “Dr Karl if you could cheat again with any woman past or present in neighbours who would it be?” We thought this was in chickens words a “cracking’ question but alas it was never answered.
Shortly before the neighbour’s stars appeared we were joined by two girls from Northern Ireland. Belfast to be precise. Chick’s eyes lit up as he had been hoping for some female company. We began talking to them and chicken made a decision that would haunt him for the rest of the night… he chatted to the less attractive of the two girls and she took a shine to him whilst he really wanted the other one. Despite some match making from me the hotty would not trample on here cousins feet even though both chicken and she fancied on another. More later…
So the night began and two “new” neighbour’s actors appeared on stage to a moderate ripple of applause and then the crowd of 25-35 year olds whet wild as the legend that is Dr Karl Kennedy made his debut. Now here was a 50 something man that clearly loved his job and was living the dream. To almost universal cat calls of appreciation from man and women gay and straight he took to the stage and launched into some witty banter before heading round to be photographed with the guests. The photos which James will no doubt put on Facebook are testament to our excitement of meeting this legend combined with our worrying levels of intoxication on Australian wine.
Post photos and the quiz it was time for pub party games. The first was an 18-30 stylee snogathon. Later games included singing, acting and then low and behold dancing. And this is where my night took a decided turn for the worse. The compere noticing that I was rather exuberant decided that I should enter the competition. Now I am not usually shy at taking centre stage but I know my limitations. Unfortunately he did not. Refusing to take no for an answer I was dragged yes dragged backwards heals digging into the ground all the way up to the stage. Here in front of 80 people I was instructed to dance as the first of 5 competitors. All I can say is thank goodness there was not a camera to film me as the dispersal of the crowed at the end of the night saw the witnesses disappear and my horrific dancing dissipating into a the fog of memory.
Dr Karl then took to the stage with his band and again the crowd went wild and much drinking and dancing ensured. Coming round to 11pm we decided that we would head off for one drink in the local gay bar before heading home. By now chickens lust for the sexy one had increased and he began a charm offensive. His jokes were coming thick and fast but he was constantly deadpanning but despite our attempts to shut him up he continued. 15 excruciating minutes later the charm offensive had come to an end but alas the sexy one was not wooed.
The five of us headed off to the gay bar and were greeted by a fabulous drag queen tottering about in high heels and inch think makeup. One drink somehow turned into two more bottles of wine and being well tanked up we hit the dance floor. Chicken turned his afternoon to the less sexy of the two girls and was kissing her in no time... She thought she had a promise on and tried to take chicken home and was most put out when he said and I quote “I am not that type of boy.” Well this was the last straw for her and she made a swift exit. One may think this was part of chicken’s master plan as he was alone with the sexy one but despite getting top marks for effort she was not falling for the Geordie patter.
As the night progressed the carnage that was our night out increased. Reviewing the photographs we see that James’s head was forced into the crotch of the drag queen, I shed most of my clothes and was recorded dancing in just a vest top and jeans, chicken tried to “own the stage” much to the annoyance of the drag queen who pushed him off and… well that’s enough for one night!
Chick chick chick is here!!!!!!!
07/08/11.
Chicken has landed. Chicken has landed. He survived the flight with the aid of a full bottle of bach recue remady and 6 double gin and tonics. Amazing he arrive the hotel looking referehed and composed. His arriveal was the cue to catch up about events at home incuding
Alice’s britheday night out- private cinema for 20 people- jealous!
Chicks 30th incuding the CSI type scene created by Alice lacerating her foot
Claire moving to jersey- tax free haven… how do they fund public services??
Chick’s promotion- 2nd in command for science… thinks he needs epaulets for that
The weather- well we are British
The price of fuel, food and everything else- more expensive
Chicken was also the bearer of Brits abroad essentials. A newspaper (bliss), James offer letter from NZ (took the long way to get here), more medication for me (project planning skills coming to the fore again). That said he did not bring any cheddar cheese and having experienced Australian customs probably a wise decision.
After fortifying ourselves with the cheapest food available at Big W Chicken and I headed off for a walk around a fabulous Melbourne. All modem, shiny clean and new. We also encountered what appears to be the Victorians (that’s the state we are in) obsession. SPORT and exercise. At 5pm at the end of the working day the river filled with people rowing the paths with people running and the roads with cyclists. We even saw a new mum running along with baby in pushchair. We now know why Australians at fit and fabulous at sport. Not sure I will be taking my top off at the beach with all these buff locals to show me up. That said at least I am not like all the other Brits as I have a sun tan. James on the other hand has got into the Melbourne spirit and has joined a gym for a week. And guess what he is actually going although he is currently limping and moaning instantly about how much he hurts. Me thinks I will stick to walking.
The evening contained another pilgrimage to Big W, a chicken salad for tea and the colonisation of the best corner of the communal living room. It was here with the free Wi-Fi we planned what we would do for the rest of the week. Just now we are on designated guardian reading time…
Chicken has landed. Chicken has landed. He survived the flight with the aid of a full bottle of bach recue remady and 6 double gin and tonics. Amazing he arrive the hotel looking referehed and composed. His arriveal was the cue to catch up about events at home incuding
Alice’s britheday night out- private cinema for 20 people- jealous!
Chicks 30th incuding the CSI type scene created by Alice lacerating her foot
Claire moving to jersey- tax free haven… how do they fund public services??
Chick’s promotion- 2nd in command for science… thinks he needs epaulets for that
The weather- well we are British
The price of fuel, food and everything else- more expensive
Chicken was also the bearer of Brits abroad essentials. A newspaper (bliss), James offer letter from NZ (took the long way to get here), more medication for me (project planning skills coming to the fore again). That said he did not bring any cheddar cheese and having experienced Australian customs probably a wise decision.
After fortifying ourselves with the cheapest food available at Big W Chicken and I headed off for a walk around a fabulous Melbourne. All modem, shiny clean and new. We also encountered what appears to be the Victorians (that’s the state we are in) obsession. SPORT and exercise. At 5pm at the end of the working day the river filled with people rowing the paths with people running and the roads with cyclists. We even saw a new mum running along with baby in pushchair. We now know why Australians at fit and fabulous at sport. Not sure I will be taking my top off at the beach with all these buff locals to show me up. That said at least I am not like all the other Brits as I have a sun tan. James on the other hand has got into the Melbourne spirit and has joined a gym for a week. And guess what he is actually going although he is currently limping and moaning instantly about how much he hurts. Me thinks I will stick to walking.
The evening contained another pilgrimage to Big W, a chicken salad for tea and the colonisation of the best corner of the communal living room. It was here with the free Wi-Fi we planned what we would do for the rest of the week. Just now we are on designated guardian reading time…
Saturday, 6 August 2011
kennel cough
04/07/11
I have kennel cough and I feel crap. So crap that I stayed in bed all day and did nothing. Every time I go on a plane I get a cold why why why? James went shopping again unsuccessfully! That’s about it really
05/07/11 Oh my it was like going back in time by 10 years
Woke up and in typical Luke fashion declared I was board of being ill so we were going to “do something!” We hit downtown Melbourne when shopping and tried to find cheap camping equipment for our adventure next week. James spent an hour in the gym two days in a row I will have you know!
After a nap we jumped on a tram and hit the gay bars. Oh my it was like going back in time by 10 years. We are by no means hip young fashionable gays but neither does seem are any of the men who frequent Melbourne’s gay bars. The music was about a decade old (cotton eye joe was played) and the outfits were something else! That said we did end up dancing until 4am before rolling into bed at 5.
06/07/11
Predictably we had hangovers today and have festered in our bunk beds for most of the day. The highlight was a kebab from across the road!
I have kennel cough and I feel crap. So crap that I stayed in bed all day and did nothing. Every time I go on a plane I get a cold why why why? James went shopping again unsuccessfully! That’s about it really
05/07/11 Oh my it was like going back in time by 10 years
Woke up and in typical Luke fashion declared I was board of being ill so we were going to “do something!” We hit downtown Melbourne when shopping and tried to find cheap camping equipment for our adventure next week. James spent an hour in the gym two days in a row I will have you know!
After a nap we jumped on a tram and hit the gay bars. Oh my it was like going back in time by 10 years. We are by no means hip young fashionable gays but neither does seem are any of the men who frequent Melbourne’s gay bars. The music was about a decade old (cotton eye joe was played) and the outfits were something else! That said we did end up dancing until 4am before rolling into bed at 5.
06/07/11
Predictably we had hangovers today and have festered in our bunk beds for most of the day. The highlight was a kebab from across the road!
Friday, 5 August 2011
Luke and James go their separate ways… well for a day anyway!
03/08/11
James and I went our separate ways today. James went shopping and I explore the city. James pottered round a number of areas looking for nice clothes and some new shoes. He was distraught at the prices and lived up to our reputation for being a winging pom/ tight Yorkshire man as he appeared to tell everyone how much the exchange rate was hurting us. Upon returning home he moaned about the lack of ‘good’ shops. Upon further investigation we discovered that he had neglected to go to central Melbourne but had opted for more provincial areas like Altrincham.
James also brought a look of concern/ smile to a receptionist when he entered what he thought was a GP clinic. The receptionist reportedly frowned upon his entry as he had stumbled upon a lipo suction clinic. The receptionist was probably worrying about a conversation that went a little like this “I am sorry we can’t help you your thin enough’ James: “this is an outrage I want to see the doctor’ etc. etc. Fortunately James realised his mistake before engaging in any potentially embarrassing conversations. So the moral of the story… never let James go out on his own!
I had an adventure of my own. Deciding that the Australians were over egging there ‘winter’ I decided to walk into Melbourne central. The receptionist thought I was mad as it was a) winter and b) 1.5 hours away. Well I am glad I did walk as a passed though the botanical gardens, saw all sorts of plants and arrived in down town Melbourne a little hot as the sun was out.
After exploring the centre and doing a little shopping myself I headed to the law courts. As I had only been in Oz for 36 hours I was not appearing before the magistrate but instead wanted some warm and free entertainment. I was directed to court 9 where I was encountered by a magistrate who liked to dole out server justice and considered words an excessive premium best only used in moderation. I was in this vain I heard the defending solicitors try to mitigate there clients crimes before the magistrate handed down the most server penalty possible. The solicitors actively disliked the magistrate. This was clear by the faux bowing and scraping and the vicious comments made when the magistrate went for a wee during the reses. The gaggle of solicitors talked about how she was fucking harsh, always gave the maximum sentence and often exceeded her authority but not to worry the court of appeal usually wrote to her and the sentence was reduced! Owe
After another nice walk back to the guest house we settled in for dinner. Now it was like stepping back in time as the shop that I purchased our food from was Woolworths. Gone was the pick and mix and I was a whole supermarket laid out in a totally none depressing fashion. WOW if only this had been done in the UK???
James and I went our separate ways today. James went shopping and I explore the city. James pottered round a number of areas looking for nice clothes and some new shoes. He was distraught at the prices and lived up to our reputation for being a winging pom/ tight Yorkshire man as he appeared to tell everyone how much the exchange rate was hurting us. Upon returning home he moaned about the lack of ‘good’ shops. Upon further investigation we discovered that he had neglected to go to central Melbourne but had opted for more provincial areas like Altrincham.
James also brought a look of concern/ smile to a receptionist when he entered what he thought was a GP clinic. The receptionist reportedly frowned upon his entry as he had stumbled upon a lipo suction clinic. The receptionist was probably worrying about a conversation that went a little like this “I am sorry we can’t help you your thin enough’ James: “this is an outrage I want to see the doctor’ etc. etc. Fortunately James realised his mistake before engaging in any potentially embarrassing conversations. So the moral of the story… never let James go out on his own!
I had an adventure of my own. Deciding that the Australians were over egging there ‘winter’ I decided to walk into Melbourne central. The receptionist thought I was mad as it was a) winter and b) 1.5 hours away. Well I am glad I did walk as a passed though the botanical gardens, saw all sorts of plants and arrived in down town Melbourne a little hot as the sun was out.
After exploring the centre and doing a little shopping myself I headed to the law courts. As I had only been in Oz for 36 hours I was not appearing before the magistrate but instead wanted some warm and free entertainment. I was directed to court 9 where I was encountered by a magistrate who liked to dole out server justice and considered words an excessive premium best only used in moderation. I was in this vain I heard the defending solicitors try to mitigate there clients crimes before the magistrate handed down the most server penalty possible. The solicitors actively disliked the magistrate. This was clear by the faux bowing and scraping and the vicious comments made when the magistrate went for a wee during the reses. The gaggle of solicitors talked about how she was fucking harsh, always gave the maximum sentence and often exceeded her authority but not to worry the court of appeal usually wrote to her and the sentence was reduced! Owe
After another nice walk back to the guest house we settled in for dinner. Now it was like stepping back in time as the shop that I purchased our food from was Woolworths. Gone was the pick and mix and I was a whole supermarket laid out in a totally none depressing fashion. WOW if only this had been done in the UK???
Wednesday, 3 August 2011
A new airline proposal…
2/8/11.
Does anyone have $10million to invest in a new airline called frills without the nonsense? Let me explain our business model. Take all the trimmings of a Singapore airlines flight- good service, free wine, edible food, good TV and movies and combine this into a no nonsense fast service. So when you get on the plane they give you your food, booze, pillows, vanity kit and ear phones. Collect the food trays 20miiutes later and then let you sleep. As it is now this process takes 2.5 bloody hours seriously eating into your sleeping time. Oh and our airline will only wake you up 45miniutes before you land thus extending your sleeping time. This way you have a chance of getting 5-7 hours of sleep on a 10 hour flight. Singapore airlines method leaves only 3.5 hours of sleep time thus creating tired, grumpy and jet lagged Luke and James.
So it was in the context we arrived in Melbourne and to boot two hours early because of the incredibly strong tailwinds. It was not all bad though as we did get to fly on the worlds the Airbus A380. The only way this can be described is a huge beast. The wings are so big you can barely see the ends of them from the window. There are two floors including ‘cabins’ which are private rooms with a door but for 10k I think you would have to be an investment banker to afford that. Never the less the plane was so big we were surprised it could get off the ground. There were 853 passengers and over 5000 square feet of floor space. Wow
Well anyway back to us. We arrived in Melbourne at 6am tired and grumpy. We then had the fun of a 45miniute wait to get though passport control, a scrum to get our bags and then another 45miniutes waiting to have our luggage screened. One can only imagine how long it would have taken if they then chose to open our bags.
Finally emerging from the airport we realise quite how fucking expensive Oz is. It was going to be a shock coming from Asia but with the exchange rate as poor as it is now we nearly fell over. We get $1.5 to the pound as opposed to $3 to the pound 18 months ago making a can of coke cost about 2quid if not more. Oh my I think I was only saved from a coronary by the fact that I was too tired to have one!
After handing over a sum equivalent to a small countries GDP we boarded the sky bus for the journey into Melbourne. Sometime later we arrived at the guest house and had 5 hours to kill before we could check in. Eventually the minutes ticked by and we got the keys to our room complete with a wobbly bunk bed. In very short order we were asleep and then awake again as we needed to get into Oz time sleeping patterns. I woke up feeling a fraction less tired but even grumpier as I had developed the ubiquitous airplane cough and cold… the same one I had when I arrived in Bali. Did I mention that the new airline would also have medicinal chemicals being sprayed out for the duration of the flight to kill all bugs? There may be some work needed to make this safe but if only 10% of the passengers die it may be a chance worth taking????
The evening was spent scouring the shops for anything cheap that we could buy for dinner followed by some family guy on the laptop before falling into a coma like sleep for 12 glorious hours. Bliss.
Does anyone have $10million to invest in a new airline called frills without the nonsense? Let me explain our business model. Take all the trimmings of a Singapore airlines flight- good service, free wine, edible food, good TV and movies and combine this into a no nonsense fast service. So when you get on the plane they give you your food, booze, pillows, vanity kit and ear phones. Collect the food trays 20miiutes later and then let you sleep. As it is now this process takes 2.5 bloody hours seriously eating into your sleeping time. Oh and our airline will only wake you up 45miniutes before you land thus extending your sleeping time. This way you have a chance of getting 5-7 hours of sleep on a 10 hour flight. Singapore airlines method leaves only 3.5 hours of sleep time thus creating tired, grumpy and jet lagged Luke and James.
So it was in the context we arrived in Melbourne and to boot two hours early because of the incredibly strong tailwinds. It was not all bad though as we did get to fly on the worlds the Airbus A380. The only way this can be described is a huge beast. The wings are so big you can barely see the ends of them from the window. There are two floors including ‘cabins’ which are private rooms with a door but for 10k I think you would have to be an investment banker to afford that. Never the less the plane was so big we were surprised it could get off the ground. There were 853 passengers and over 5000 square feet of floor space. Wow
Well anyway back to us. We arrived in Melbourne at 6am tired and grumpy. We then had the fun of a 45miniute wait to get though passport control, a scrum to get our bags and then another 45miniutes waiting to have our luggage screened. One can only imagine how long it would have taken if they then chose to open our bags.
Finally emerging from the airport we realise quite how fucking expensive Oz is. It was going to be a shock coming from Asia but with the exchange rate as poor as it is now we nearly fell over. We get $1.5 to the pound as opposed to $3 to the pound 18 months ago making a can of coke cost about 2quid if not more. Oh my I think I was only saved from a coronary by the fact that I was too tired to have one!
After handing over a sum equivalent to a small countries GDP we boarded the sky bus for the journey into Melbourne. Sometime later we arrived at the guest house and had 5 hours to kill before we could check in. Eventually the minutes ticked by and we got the keys to our room complete with a wobbly bunk bed. In very short order we were asleep and then awake again as we needed to get into Oz time sleeping patterns. I woke up feeling a fraction less tired but even grumpier as I had developed the ubiquitous airplane cough and cold… the same one I had when I arrived in Bali. Did I mention that the new airline would also have medicinal chemicals being sprayed out for the duration of the flight to kill all bugs? There may be some work needed to make this safe but if only 10% of the passengers die it may be a chance worth taking????
The evening was spent scouring the shops for anything cheap that we could buy for dinner followed by some family guy on the laptop before falling into a coma like sleep for 12 glorious hours. Bliss.
Monday, 1 August 2011
Bye bye Asia
01/07/11
We are mainly spending the day in airports or in the sky. We go from Bali to Singapore wait there for 7 hours and then fly back over Bail to Oz. So in all a boring day where the main excitement has been complaining about the 10 quid departure tax from Bali... its not like we got in for free they charged us for that too! It is also our wedding anniversary today. Where has two years gone? Well as always we are enjoying life and living it to the full.
As we leave Asia today here are James thoughts on the last few months in Asia...
Thoughts on Asia
I will apologise now if my words come across as naïve or indeed offensive to people. I am sure that those more cultured and travelled than myself will find my ideas far from nuanced and/or rather blunt. I recognise that trying to describe Asia and Asians is like trying to describe Europe and Europeans. Indeed, you can find many differences between Mancunians and the Liverpudlians and they are only 40 minutes down the road.
These are my musings about what I have seen and thought in my 5 months in SE Asia. Please remember that this is my first time in Asia and that I am a white working class lad (he he he – such butch!) who had one non-white person in the entire of his school (not class or year) and who spent my first 18 years in the rather traditional conservative semi-autonomous republic of the City of York (in the bad-lands of Acomb!). So, bear with me. I feel a little like I am just learning about the world.
First a word about the word Asian. To the UK populace it tends to mean, for want of a better description, brown people. This means usually Indians or Pakistanis – if those words were actually used (unfortunately these people are sometimes lumped together and described less than politely) - everyone else is Chinese. Asian in the US means, I understand, what the Brits describe as Chinese. Quite confusing and I am not sure which is more accurate. Certainly for the sake of simplicity and ethnic diversity monitoring forms of course, things have been a little dumbed down.
I find it difficult to do this any longer, to group people together without so much as an attempt at precision is just meaningless. And to reserve Asian for those of the Indian sub-continent, leaving Chinese for the, well Chinese, leaves my vocabulary at little short to describe everybody else. Yes I know they are Vietnamese, Laotian (or Lao), Thai, Malaysian (or Malay) et cetera, but I have really struggled to describe large-scale the people I have met on travel. This is complicated by large ethic minority populations that, in the UK, would make the Daily Mail self-combust. This is before considering cultural identity, nationality and everything else that makes us who we are. Perhaps I worry too much, and accept people for what they are, or rather deem it an unimportance.
And no they really don’t all look the same at all – I had heard this a thousand times at school, and, forgive me, still half believed it before coming travelling. No more than Europeans with our big noses and tall height – and big cocks (Thai’s obsessed with this). They can have common features indeed, reduced variation in hair colour comes to mind (though dying it ginger seems to be fashionable) but I can much more accurately guess someone’s ethic heritage now. Skin colour guides me to country or region but also bizarrely to wealth. Being tanned not a good thing you see – the preponderance of whitening creams available soon tells you that, and low paid outdoor work can soon make you a bit walnutty. Shape of nose and eyes also helps, and to a degree style of dress and general demeanour.
I am also interested in how westerners are viewed by Asians; I suppose to see if the humorous stereotypes are still there. These conversations are sometimes enlightening. People seem to view Britain and/or Europe as some sort of earthly utopia, rose-tinted spectacles combined with nostalgia at its worst. This has led (especially Thailand I found) to a certain passiveness to the fate of their life’s and/or their country. For the poor they have made it when then can get together with a European, other options discarded. This is not helped by maintenance of the myth by feather bedded Farang that the locals are lucky to be with them.
Yes Europe is comparatively richer but the expectations about our lives and the desire for a western existence feel almost painful at times. I am so tempted to tell lies about just how awful England is (Oh yes the civil war killed five thousand last week). We are all viewed to be very rich – as if either we don’t have to work, or that travelling/holidays are a normal aspect of our daily lifestyle as opposed to something saved and rationed for. I find their ideas about my wealth uncomfortable and it’s impossible to explain without coming across as complaining. Bizarrely there is also, especially in India, some residual respect, in an upstairs/downstairs sense at least, for the western man and even affection reserved for the British – railways and water/sewerage were mentioned numerous times. We are certainly viewed more positively than other nations especially the US. I am glad though amazed at this, British history is hardly something to be proud of at times.
The burgeoning development of SE Asia is certainly occurring within a completely different world structure. I feel you could look at this historically, when western and developed countries developed, there was no-one more ahead than us, we did it our way, and did things (UK oak forest anyone?) that we condemn others for now. I feel sometimes Asians look at their own countries and feel overwhelmed by the challenges they face, corruption levels, poverty, pollution, and the more educated aided by modern transport and the global workplace (and the European myth) can move on and work and live elsewhere. Or they do things our way, which doesn’t really work, within their own culture and stage of development. Or, they can live and work where they are, isolated in a middle class bubble that I feel is more encased than the UK. Gucci watches next to shitting on the street, makes me incredibly uncomfortable. We certainly seem to worry more about social imbalance and the rich-poor divide than the average Asian I have met. That said, the scale, scope and simple stupendousness of Asian development, where is does happen, regularly left me in awe.
Interestingly Asians view us as a rather odd and eccentric lot. They are either suspicious of our western ways - poorly cultured, non-religious heathens so we are. Cautiously intrigued or excited – aren’t all Western girls sluts? Embarrassed or semi-admonishing, with a casual roll of the eyes - we always seem to be doing things somehow wrong, eating, drinking, shoes, toilets come to mind. Almost laughably obvious financial predators – casually ripping tourists off as and when they are able, but with a certain respect given and relationship formed with those who know the score and usually price. Endearingly naïve of the nature, role and function of the western world – food stuffs, nuances of job titles and roles (makes me feel most UK jobs are pretty pointless – you work in hospital you doctor or help doctor that’s it), weather, government, police, everything. Not limited to Asians of course, westerners guilty of many of these things just as much – I certainly didn’t know where Laos was till started travel planning – who knew it is the most bombed country in the world? - and taxi drivers are bastards the world over. In many ways, widespread gruelling poverty aside (we are poorer in many ways than Asians) Asia is such an attractive place to be, perhaps because it is just so different.
But the world is changing – or has it already changed. I remember at school as we played the world trade game in RE (developed countries had the scissors (high price), developing countries had the paper (low price) so that it was difficult for the poor countries to win) – a pupil commenting that the UK will always be rich and things will always be the same. Such arrogance in a way but not an uncommon thought. The balance of power in the world is shifting to the east, helped by technological development and rising populations, though obvious problems can be created by this. India now has a population of 1.2 billion and as people move from village to city the capacity simply is not there for them. But the sear potential of these nations to innovate means they will move quickly through the “value chain”. I believe the BBC has a series coming out shortly with the provocative ad-picture of a shirt label printed “Designed in China/Made in Italy”.
Asia bizarrely seems to have made me become more conservative regarding the welfare state. I will try and explain. Though I feel a country should support those who fail for whatever reason with a safety net, there should be an expectation that you get back on your feet. This is a subject in itself, but some of the dynamism and drive and need to succeed that exists in Asia in due to the need to look after oneself and family. Stopping, giving up, relying on others, except in the most debilitating circumstances, is just not an option, neither practical or positively ideological. We in the UK have become too dependent, too blame orientated, looking to the state for help and assistance (and expecting and demanding it) rather than looking to local families, communities, yourself. The UK has a complex history of benefit dependency (as separate to the “benefits culture”) which is not easily unravelled and not solved by simply removing benefits, but there must be better ways of removing people from poverty than the state propping them up with cash handouts. We seem a little lost as a nation, what do we do, what we do stand for?
Building on this I am also concerned about the lack of pride and lack of status there is now to be had from working in a real job that provides real benefit to the state and its people. Why would educated people (and a higher education is now much more widespread) become school teachers, police, nurses, firefighters or council officials when they can be paid much more becoming bankers and private HR “consultants”? Public sector workers in particular do not seem to command the respect of the UK populace any more (“gold plated pensions”/”not in touch with real world” - that one really gets my goat). I can accept low wages in a public spirited enterprise (the NHS is just about) but why would I accept them working for Care UK PLC when someone with my depth of knowledge, skills and education, following a different career path (banking, business, accountancy, law etc) is in a very different place financially? An Asian bus driver or road sweeper takes pride in their work and pride in their country and a job well done. Having a job, any job, is valued, in order to support their families. What have we lost?
Perhaps we are just too safe in the UK, nothing that demands the Dunkirk spirit, whatever that is or was. When as a popular comedian said, when we are complaining about 2 weekly bin collections (and riots when a new Tesco tries to open!) we really have nothing to complain about at all. But comfort breeds complacency. Our role and function in the world is far from assured. Asia provides a threat but also opportunities, if only we could shake off our sense of entitlement.
I have loved and hated Asia, often both within the same day. It is an area of outstanding beauty as well as overwhelming filth. Fascinating and generally lovely people as well as the occasional shark. Care, compassion and manners with a splash of “scream inside your head” inefficiency and general inept-nous. It is a place that makes you stop and think. It can make you feel big, it can make you feel small. Traveling on a budget has been a blessing and a curse – through basic, local accommodations I felt we have better understood the local culture and way of living, with the notable disadvantage of generalised discomfort, back and neck pain, and dreams bordering on the erotic of a deep hot bath. I am writing these final words awaiting a flight to Australia. I really don’t want to go. I want to start over again, though perhaps doing it slower still. Asia. You crazily enduring frustrating area of the world. We will be back. Please don’t change.
We are mainly spending the day in airports or in the sky. We go from Bali to Singapore wait there for 7 hours and then fly back over Bail to Oz. So in all a boring day where the main excitement has been complaining about the 10 quid departure tax from Bali... its not like we got in for free they charged us for that too! It is also our wedding anniversary today. Where has two years gone? Well as always we are enjoying life and living it to the full.
As we leave Asia today here are James thoughts on the last few months in Asia...
Thoughts on Asia
I will apologise now if my words come across as naïve or indeed offensive to people. I am sure that those more cultured and travelled than myself will find my ideas far from nuanced and/or rather blunt. I recognise that trying to describe Asia and Asians is like trying to describe Europe and Europeans. Indeed, you can find many differences between Mancunians and the Liverpudlians and they are only 40 minutes down the road.
These are my musings about what I have seen and thought in my 5 months in SE Asia. Please remember that this is my first time in Asia and that I am a white working class lad (he he he – such butch!) who had one non-white person in the entire of his school (not class or year) and who spent my first 18 years in the rather traditional conservative semi-autonomous republic of the City of York (in the bad-lands of Acomb!). So, bear with me. I feel a little like I am just learning about the world.
First a word about the word Asian. To the UK populace it tends to mean, for want of a better description, brown people. This means usually Indians or Pakistanis – if those words were actually used (unfortunately these people are sometimes lumped together and described less than politely) - everyone else is Chinese. Asian in the US means, I understand, what the Brits describe as Chinese. Quite confusing and I am not sure which is more accurate. Certainly for the sake of simplicity and ethnic diversity monitoring forms of course, things have been a little dumbed down.
I find it difficult to do this any longer, to group people together without so much as an attempt at precision is just meaningless. And to reserve Asian for those of the Indian sub-continent, leaving Chinese for the, well Chinese, leaves my vocabulary at little short to describe everybody else. Yes I know they are Vietnamese, Laotian (or Lao), Thai, Malaysian (or Malay) et cetera, but I have really struggled to describe large-scale the people I have met on travel. This is complicated by large ethic minority populations that, in the UK, would make the Daily Mail self-combust. This is before considering cultural identity, nationality and everything else that makes us who we are. Perhaps I worry too much, and accept people for what they are, or rather deem it an unimportance.
And no they really don’t all look the same at all – I had heard this a thousand times at school, and, forgive me, still half believed it before coming travelling. No more than Europeans with our big noses and tall height – and big cocks (Thai’s obsessed with this). They can have common features indeed, reduced variation in hair colour comes to mind (though dying it ginger seems to be fashionable) but I can much more accurately guess someone’s ethic heritage now. Skin colour guides me to country or region but also bizarrely to wealth. Being tanned not a good thing you see – the preponderance of whitening creams available soon tells you that, and low paid outdoor work can soon make you a bit walnutty. Shape of nose and eyes also helps, and to a degree style of dress and general demeanour.
I am also interested in how westerners are viewed by Asians; I suppose to see if the humorous stereotypes are still there. These conversations are sometimes enlightening. People seem to view Britain and/or Europe as some sort of earthly utopia, rose-tinted spectacles combined with nostalgia at its worst. This has led (especially Thailand I found) to a certain passiveness to the fate of their life’s and/or their country. For the poor they have made it when then can get together with a European, other options discarded. This is not helped by maintenance of the myth by feather bedded Farang that the locals are lucky to be with them.
Yes Europe is comparatively richer but the expectations about our lives and the desire for a western existence feel almost painful at times. I am so tempted to tell lies about just how awful England is (Oh yes the civil war killed five thousand last week). We are all viewed to be very rich – as if either we don’t have to work, or that travelling/holidays are a normal aspect of our daily lifestyle as opposed to something saved and rationed for. I find their ideas about my wealth uncomfortable and it’s impossible to explain without coming across as complaining. Bizarrely there is also, especially in India, some residual respect, in an upstairs/downstairs sense at least, for the western man and even affection reserved for the British – railways and water/sewerage were mentioned numerous times. We are certainly viewed more positively than other nations especially the US. I am glad though amazed at this, British history is hardly something to be proud of at times.
The burgeoning development of SE Asia is certainly occurring within a completely different world structure. I feel you could look at this historically, when western and developed countries developed, there was no-one more ahead than us, we did it our way, and did things (UK oak forest anyone?) that we condemn others for now. I feel sometimes Asians look at their own countries and feel overwhelmed by the challenges they face, corruption levels, poverty, pollution, and the more educated aided by modern transport and the global workplace (and the European myth) can move on and work and live elsewhere. Or they do things our way, which doesn’t really work, within their own culture and stage of development. Or, they can live and work where they are, isolated in a middle class bubble that I feel is more encased than the UK. Gucci watches next to shitting on the street, makes me incredibly uncomfortable. We certainly seem to worry more about social imbalance and the rich-poor divide than the average Asian I have met. That said, the scale, scope and simple stupendousness of Asian development, where is does happen, regularly left me in awe.
Interestingly Asians view us as a rather odd and eccentric lot. They are either suspicious of our western ways - poorly cultured, non-religious heathens so we are. Cautiously intrigued or excited – aren’t all Western girls sluts? Embarrassed or semi-admonishing, with a casual roll of the eyes - we always seem to be doing things somehow wrong, eating, drinking, shoes, toilets come to mind. Almost laughably obvious financial predators – casually ripping tourists off as and when they are able, but with a certain respect given and relationship formed with those who know the score and usually price. Endearingly naïve of the nature, role and function of the western world – food stuffs, nuances of job titles and roles (makes me feel most UK jobs are pretty pointless – you work in hospital you doctor or help doctor that’s it), weather, government, police, everything. Not limited to Asians of course, westerners guilty of many of these things just as much – I certainly didn’t know where Laos was till started travel planning – who knew it is the most bombed country in the world? - and taxi drivers are bastards the world over. In many ways, widespread gruelling poverty aside (we are poorer in many ways than Asians) Asia is such an attractive place to be, perhaps because it is just so different.
But the world is changing – or has it already changed. I remember at school as we played the world trade game in RE (developed countries had the scissors (high price), developing countries had the paper (low price) so that it was difficult for the poor countries to win) – a pupil commenting that the UK will always be rich and things will always be the same. Such arrogance in a way but not an uncommon thought. The balance of power in the world is shifting to the east, helped by technological development and rising populations, though obvious problems can be created by this. India now has a population of 1.2 billion and as people move from village to city the capacity simply is not there for them. But the sear potential of these nations to innovate means they will move quickly through the “value chain”. I believe the BBC has a series coming out shortly with the provocative ad-picture of a shirt label printed “Designed in China/Made in Italy”.
Asia bizarrely seems to have made me become more conservative regarding the welfare state. I will try and explain. Though I feel a country should support those who fail for whatever reason with a safety net, there should be an expectation that you get back on your feet. This is a subject in itself, but some of the dynamism and drive and need to succeed that exists in Asia in due to the need to look after oneself and family. Stopping, giving up, relying on others, except in the most debilitating circumstances, is just not an option, neither practical or positively ideological. We in the UK have become too dependent, too blame orientated, looking to the state for help and assistance (and expecting and demanding it) rather than looking to local families, communities, yourself. The UK has a complex history of benefit dependency (as separate to the “benefits culture”) which is not easily unravelled and not solved by simply removing benefits, but there must be better ways of removing people from poverty than the state propping them up with cash handouts. We seem a little lost as a nation, what do we do, what we do stand for?
Building on this I am also concerned about the lack of pride and lack of status there is now to be had from working in a real job that provides real benefit to the state and its people. Why would educated people (and a higher education is now much more widespread) become school teachers, police, nurses, firefighters or council officials when they can be paid much more becoming bankers and private HR “consultants”? Public sector workers in particular do not seem to command the respect of the UK populace any more (“gold plated pensions”/”not in touch with real world” - that one really gets my goat). I can accept low wages in a public spirited enterprise (the NHS is just about) but why would I accept them working for Care UK PLC when someone with my depth of knowledge, skills and education, following a different career path (banking, business, accountancy, law etc) is in a very different place financially? An Asian bus driver or road sweeper takes pride in their work and pride in their country and a job well done. Having a job, any job, is valued, in order to support their families. What have we lost?
Perhaps we are just too safe in the UK, nothing that demands the Dunkirk spirit, whatever that is or was. When as a popular comedian said, when we are complaining about 2 weekly bin collections (and riots when a new Tesco tries to open!) we really have nothing to complain about at all. But comfort breeds complacency. Our role and function in the world is far from assured. Asia provides a threat but also opportunities, if only we could shake off our sense of entitlement.
I have loved and hated Asia, often both within the same day. It is an area of outstanding beauty as well as overwhelming filth. Fascinating and generally lovely people as well as the occasional shark. Care, compassion and manners with a splash of “scream inside your head” inefficiency and general inept-nous. It is a place that makes you stop and think. It can make you feel big, it can make you feel small. Traveling on a budget has been a blessing and a curse – through basic, local accommodations I felt we have better understood the local culture and way of living, with the notable disadvantage of generalised discomfort, back and neck pain, and dreams bordering on the erotic of a deep hot bath. I am writing these final words awaiting a flight to Australia. I really don’t want to go. I want to start over again, though perhaps doing it slower still. Asia. You crazily enduring frustrating area of the world. We will be back. Please don’t change.
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