Rock Hard

Apologies for my lax blogging, however, the only opportunity I have is at work and I have been working like an Australian batsman here.

Two weeks a go I utilised a birthday present which was a Rock climbing and Abseiling day out. My friends kindly arranged it knowing that I was going to Australia and knowing the kind of outdoorsy hardcore athlete I am.

So I wouldn't feel alone on my day out they also got a voucher for Belinda. Little did they or I know that she hates heights. There are people who say that they hate heights and there are people who actually do hate heights. I was yet to see which one Belinda was. It soon became apparent though that she was the latter. Subtle things gave it away, like her refusing to eat the evening before and the following morning I couldn't get an word out of her, suffice to say it was bliss. As I am not the most sympathetic of people she was looking to the wrong person for comforting words.

It was lovely weather, with the sun shining and bush fires at their weakest. We had to wait for our guide in town and there we met the rest of our group, half of them wanted to climb and the other half had been dragged there by their respective partners. Then Tom our guide arrived. Tom was the most knowledgeable climbing instructor in the world, he entertained us with stories related to climbing, semi related to climbing and completely unrelated to climbing.

When we got to our destination we made our way from the van, which by now had turned into an oven, and headed for the rock face. For some reason I had expect the ropes and things to already be in place, sort of like a yuppies lunchtime climbing club, however, in order to climb we would first have to walk to the top and set up the ropes. This proved harder than originally thought, if it were in Wales then I should imagine it would be a brisk walk to the top, however the temperature made it feel more like a trek through a desert. Once we go up, the first task was to set up ropes in order to abseil down them. As tom said that the British invented rock climbing I decided to take it upon myself to volunteer to go down first. Also, this gave me enough time to get back up to the top and watch Belinda deficate herself while going down. Unfortunatley this did not happen!

Abseiling was great fun, but it really kills your hands and hips, not helped when you are getting more 'solid' by the day. The Harness we used had no padding at all and reminded me of a pair of old underpants that had perished. After tackling the backwards abseiling we then went to a much bigger rock face and did front facing, which was excellent appart from the harness almost cutting into my bladder.

We then stopped for lunch. Lunch was a massive spread of salad, dips, flavoured tofu kebabs and the piste del resistance, hot dogs. I am not sure how but I was collared into boiling those babies up on a gas stove located in the back of Tom's van. This was parked some 20 metres away from the picnic table where all the others had converged. I must say they did look like they we enjoying themselves, what with great conversation and the beautiful fresh salad and tofu kebabs it looked like a little peace of Nirvana. Any way, it took me 15 minutes of standing on my own over this bloody stove to realise that the sodding gas wasn't even lit. I had in actual fact been maning a pot luke warm water, while the gas from the stove had been slowly entering my blood stream. The problem lay in the fact that the weather was so damn hot that I could a) see the flame AND b) feel any heat coming from the stove as it was so bloody hot all around me. In fact the only thing that had been cooking was my neck. With this new piece of information I called Tom over with the lighter and 10 minutes later I was able to have my lunch. The salad was not as fresh as it once was and the tofu kababs had been all but eaten during the many anacdotes I had missed, but at least I had my Hot dog. Well I actually only had half as the flies looked far more determined to eat it than I was to fight them off.

After lunch we did the climbing. We each did 2 climbs and both were quite difficult, especially with a pair of trainers. The pumps in question wouldn't have been out of place on a west coast rapper driving through Compton in his hydrolic suspension fitted Caddy (see STILL D.R.E). I could now understand how Belinda felt, as there is a definite sense of vulnerability. I wasn't so much scared of falling off, but dragging my face along the rocks until I got to the bottom. What made it more frightening was the fact that in my attempt to save 20 pounds or so I had only opted for the more basic insurance. A policy that entitles me to a plaster only on the provisor I cut myself in a governement building. In Australia you even need ambulance cover, something I discovered en route to the climbing as 2 of our party worked in health insurance. They were boasting about helicopters picking them up if anything went wrong as I sat there quietly contemplating my plan B (walking)

Any way as the day came to an end Tom took us to proper local pub in the middle of nowhere, where true Aussie men drank from deinty 'pots' of lager. No sooner have you walked to your seat with a 'pot' then you need to get up and go and get another one.

All in all it was a great day.

And how did Belinda do? Well she said that she would never ever do anything like that again- so I think she liked it. A birthday present maybe!

Surfs Up Dude

I had my first surf lesson last sunday which was good but knackering, i got so badly burn't i looked like an england cricket fan (red from embarrasment more likely for england fans). it was really hard work. what troubled me most was that you battled to get as far out as you can, which takes ages and then you see a wave which you think is good and you get on it and it turns out to be crap. however, once you realise this you are already back at the beach and you have to go all the way out again. however, it was good fun and the waves were big.

the day started of badly however, when we were given our wetsuits and i accidentally got mine and belinda's mixed up. it was only after i spent 10 mins trying to get into it and the agony i was suffering once i had it on that i realised that it was not mine. you would have thought the 'small' written in white marker on it would have been an indicator. sufice to say we switched

Seasons Greetings

I would just like to wish you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.

Sydney! isn't that a blokes name?

HELLO ALL

ITS IRONIC TO THINK THAT I AM ON WORKING HOLIDAY VISA AND I HAVE NEVER WORKED SO HARD BEFORE, and that is why i have not updated my blog for a while

Any way here I am! Since my last blog i have done many things, from learning to row to spending a weekend in Sydney.

I decided to visit my friend Pablo, whom I used to know in london. He was a work collegue and more importantly a strong persistant and always abliging drinking buddy. Many a lunchtime was spent in the pub have having a quick mini session before heading back to the office and looking on the internet.



I managed to get the cheapest flights available, something that proved a false economy, as the time of my flight resulted in a very costly journey to the airport, due to the early departure. I figured out that with the cost of transport and further costs of drops required reduce the burning redness of my eye (due to the 4.55am start in the morning) i could have traveled to sydney cheaper using a presidential style motorcade.

Any way, I flew over sydney at about 8am with the sun blazing and the view of the Harbour Bridge and Opera House in all its glory. It looked amazing. Sydney is beautiful from above, it looked very lagoonal (englsh) and reminded my of Venice in a way, apart from looking nothing like Venice if you see what I mean.

I must have quite liked the airport as I spent about an hour there trying to get out. This is a bit of a long story but i will try and cut it down to a short anacdote. When i got off the plane I saw signs indicating a shuttle into town, which I thought would be my best option. I started wandering around from one bus stop to another asking various officials where this most convenient method of transport might be. Each person seemed to be sending me to a different direction. I eventually came upon this 'Faganesque' character who promised that his own brand of shuttle bus would arrive in 2 minutes and take me right into town, so without hesitating i took him at his word and bought a A$16 ticket, 5 mins past and still know carrage. People were coming up asking him when the next bus would be and each time to my annoyance he would say 2 minutes. As I am not the most patient of people I demanded my money back. Suffice to say as soon as i got my money back the bus arrived and i was not on it (DAMN). What make things worse it that the shuttle bus i had seen advertised was not a bus at all but was in fact a train, the same train i walked passed about 5 times looking for the shuttlebus that didnt exist. Any way i am not one to moan but suffice to say sydney had already pissed me off.

The first thing i did when i got into town was meet up with Pablo and drop off my bag, i can't remember how long ago it was since I had last seen him but it was a while. Its funny how people change, I noticed he had put on weight, but you keep that to yourself dont you. (sorry Pablo if you are reading this).

With my bags disgarded i set off to explore Sydney. As soon as I arrived I could sense it was vastly different from Melbourne. It was very much like london but without all the Australians. It just seemed busier and more unorganised than Melbourne, which i found refreshing. As an explorer I decided to find my bearings and use the buses. Unlike an explorer, i had no idea where north, east, south or west was, so i just got on a bus and hoped. Hope is not all its cracked up to be, and 3 bus journeys later I ended up being somewhere where i think i wanted to be- The Harbour.

It was amazing to see it there in front of you. I have seen it before on telly so many times but it is certainly not the same as seeing in person (Obviously). The bridge was much bigger than i had expected. It was modelled on the Tyne Bridge apparently, but the setting is a bit different.

I was mindful of time and as so many people suggested getting a ferry to Manley I thought i would do just that. For some reason i thought it would be just over the bay, however it was more a 45 minute journey. Not a bad way to get to work I thought, however if you were to have a hangover this could prove to be the straw that breaks the camels back, but then i realised that camels would not use the ferry as they are not indiginous to australia, but any way.

Manley was beautiful, its like a separate beach community with lots of young, cooley dressed style conscious folk, needless to say i fitted in. The weather was really hot and so i headed for the beach with the other legions and observed the hive of activity that was the promonade. There were surfers, body boarders and even womens Beach Vollyball. As an appreciator of the sport I sat for a short while and watched all the group stages of the competition, followed by the 1st, 2nd and 3rd rounds then the quarters, semis and then the finals. (great sport). I eventually got up realising I had used up the entire film on my camera. (how did that happen?). Needing to find some shade i decided to head back to the city as i had to visit Bondi. I thought you can't go to Sydney and not see Bondi and I am glad I did as it was beautiful. It's true when they say it is full of brits.

It was 5 o clock and I headed back to meet Pablo and start my first Sydney drink session. As I was suffering from sleep deprevation, red eyes and sun burn I must have looked a right state, however i managed to stay out until 3am. The only struggle really was trying to get in somewhere, all the bouncers thought i was too drunk because i had such tired eyes, and also coz i was too drunk.

The next day we got up earliesh and headed to the races, that's 3 times in as many months, I spent 29 years in the UK and went racing once now i am going on a monthly basis. I won one race and that was it, I spent most of it trying to avoid the scorching sun. On the evening we went to see Pearl Jam in an executives box Pablo got us access to. They were very good, except when he kept banging on about making poverty history. If I had wanted to see Bob Geldoff I would have gone to see Lord Of the Rings.

Once the concert was over we headed to a bar which Pablo frequents on a regular basis. We walked in and there were dips and finger food which i thought was really nice as it had a real local theme, I was half tempted to help my self to a cheeky one but held off. No sooner had we got a drink and sat down, then a fight kicked off between these 2 brusers. It only turned out to be a welcome home party for someone who had just got out of prison that day. Two questions went through my mind.- What would have happened to me if i had helped myself to their finger food and why was I friends with someone whose local is commonly frequented by criminals. However i put these to the back of mind and carried on drinking.

This couple at the table next to us started talking us. He was this really burly man and he was with this rather small fragile looking woman, both in the early 40's i would say. We started chatting about general things and it was pleasant. There was a bit of banter about my being english, the kind you get all over austrailia, general sledging. However as the night progressed the constant flows of double whisky and cokes turned the conversation more ugly. By the end of it i was begining to feel a bit uncomfortable and not just from the chair. I think it was time to go when he told me that his grandad was in the IRA and used to love nothing more than killing British soldiers (of which he was pleased about), this was re-enforced when he began showing his array of tatooes signifying his close links with Ireland. On that note we decided it was time for the 2nd kebab of the weekend and to get at least 3 hours sleep before my flight back to melbourne the next morning.

Sydney was a great place and it wasn't until I went there, that it actually felt like I was on the other side of the world.

PS.Collingwoods just got out for 10, thats depressing!

A Day at the Races

A fair few things have occurred since I last blogged. I have started on the Stella again. She is an old and dear friend and as it was happy hour, so she was cheap. Suffice to say I now remember why I was using Carlton draft rather than its more refined continental cousin, especially as I was out with work colleagues. I don’t think I was too bad however, I do remember talking to various strangers and I swear I have made arrangement to meet someone in Sydney in a months time but hey, what can you do.

Three Saturdays ago I was exposed first hand to Australia’s National Obsession, no, not losing to England in every major sporting event like Curling, but Horse racing. Anyone who has been to Australia knows that the average Oz is a fan of the ‘odd’ bet or two. This is apparent when you walk into pubs that have a bookies attached, a brilliant idea I think.

As it was the start of the Spring racing calendar, I put on my best and only pair of jeans and headed to Caufield. I was meeting a friend (Steveo) who has recently moved back to Melbourne from London. As a veteran of Royal Ascot, I had a fair idea of what to expect, drunk men and scantily clad drunker women- suffice to say I was not disappointed. Luckily Steveo had brought some friends with him who had some knowledge of the horses and more importantly, knew how to place a bet. As far as the betting went, mine and Steveos first race went well and we doubled our money with a bet on the cert. This was not rocket science. However, the good times could last forever, and my winning streak soon waned when none of the bookies could understand a word I was saying. This could have been due to the drink or the accent (which many English don’t understand) but rather than placing the bets that I wanted, they seemed to mishear me and put my money on some random donkey. Perturbed by this I decided that it was time to grow up and concentrate on getting drunk. And boy did I.

Booze was cheap and it was flowing. I could tell I was not in the winner enclosure by the plastic cups and drunken groups of men, women and children. It reminded me of how London would have been in the 18th Century during the Gin Drinking Mania. The only thing missing was a bloke running around naked like we got at Ascot, but judging by some of the dresses the women were wearing we almost nearly had that, as I said it was a VERY good Afternoon

So, after a delightful day of losing money we all retired to the most convenient pub nearest the race course, to capitalize on the good work we had started 5 hours prior. It was a massive pub and even had a live band, playing such aussie classics as….well you know what I mean. All in all it was a very good day.



Culture Part 1

Since leaving the cultural desert of London, I have taken it upon me to amerce myself in Melbourne theatre, (theatre = theater for Amy). A few weeks ago Belinda and I attended a series of short plays at a local theatre group. Despite usually running away from anything that didn’t have an actor from the Bill or Eastenders in, I decided to give it a go. I was actually very surprised just how much I enjoyed it. I thought it would be a group of do-gooder hippies taliking about crap, but in fact, it was only half filled with do gooder hippies talking crap. The rest was very good and may change the way I look at Art, or it might not.

I just thought I would keep you in touch with all my enlightening experiences.

A trip to an Oasis

Hello People

The Blogs are coming thick and fast now. I thought I would let you know about my trip to Mildura, the homeland of the Farrell’s (Belinda, if you didn’t know). It was a Friday evening, after a day’s solid internet abuse, Belinda and I began our drive to Mildura. When I say drive, I actually navigated, which some might say is a far more important role in the journey. The navigating part was relatively easy, as there was only one road and it was predominantly straight, apart from the one turn, which I missed.

I would like to arouse your minds with talk of fabulous scenery and majestic views, but as we were driving at night all I can say is that it was dark, so dark you couldn’t even see the dead kangaroos I was promised. Navigating at night is a difficult task. It is very hard it is to stay awake when all that’s in your vision are cat’s eyes drawing towards you and Australian music on the radio, I was crying out for something familiar, even the Vengaboys would suffice. I would have slept hadn’t Belinda threatened to fall asleep as well and kill us both (out of jealous spite).

Any way, after 6 hours of driving we eventually arrived. It is very disheartening to be in a car for 6 hours and still not leave the state. In the UK, if you drove for that length of time you could travel through 3 countries, however, not if Bigtime was driving, hey Adam. When we got there it was so refreshing to see that teenage drunkards are universal, it was almost like being back in York apart from no obligatory fighting at the cashpoints. However, I took solace in the knowing that Mildura was a young town with possibly another 1000 years or so to mature into a sophisticated society like York.

The next morning was lovely, the weather was in the 30’s and the soil was as red as my face was going to be. Being English, and an ambassador for my country I took the opportunity speed tan. On with the shorts and t shirt and to hell with the sun block these Australians appeared to be so readily applying to themselves. I left my protection in the hands of God’s Ozone Layer.

In Brief Mildura was a lovely place, described as an Oasis, but it was a ‘blur’ to me. After 100’s of km of nothingness it did seem odd that people chose to settle there and set up a town. However, after a day I can see why. It has all the facilities one could want from a town-parks, a river, an obligatory Irish Bar (that’s my favourite word this week), and a well poncy Cafe, whose service I might add was so excrutiatingly slow I was sure they were not just growing the beans but reinventing the concept of coffee.

The most significant part of the weekend was Belinda’s parent’s 40th wedding anniversary. Her sister had managed to organize a complete get together of family and friends. I was able assess myself what kind and the amount of abuse I would receive at Christmas time, during the ashes. All conclusions pointed to a lot. It was small jibe here and there that indicated this to me, but the most conclusive proof came when they admitted there would be severe animosity. I will therefore take them at there word and try and work over Christmas. All joking aside (and I hope they were joking) they were all really nice and friendly and I look forward to heading back (by plane) and watch England stuff the Ozzies in the Boxing day test.

All the best folks

Ps. Angry Anderson was on morning television, I couldn’t believe it. He does loads for Charity. What a great Guy

A Month in the Colonies

Well it has been 1 month now and I am feel very much settled into life in Australia. I have done a lot since my last entry. I have a flat, sorry apartment, a job and a bank account, where I only have to pay the bank $5 of my own money a month for them to keep my money- bargain.

3 weekend ago I went to a place called Apollo bay on the Great Ocean Road, some commemoration to the Great Apollo Creed I thought, until I got there to find no gold statue, but rather a quaint little seaside town. It was a bit like Whitby but without the polystyrene chip containers thrown on the floor or the menacing thunder clouds hovering in the skies. As it was out of season it was nice and quiet. We had booked a shallay(not in the Butlins sense) on the cliffs overlooking the sea. It had everything, kitchen and utensils, spa and even satellite TV, suffice to say I was in my element. I got to grips with the remote control a lot easier than I did with the real log fire, that’s’ for sure. I don’t know what it is about them but they are obsessive. When you get thing started you are paranoid that the damn thing is going to go out. The TV was right beside the fire and on many occasion I would find my eyes drifting over to check the thing was still alight (this would not do!). Any way, with brilliant craftsmanship with kindling, expert wood retrieval and enough fire lighters to set half of Australia’s bush alight in the winter months, I was able to get the thing going and heat the room for a sustained period of time. On my time outs from manning the fire we went to a number of exciting things, like waterfalls, light houses and tree top walks, but you had to be there and my grasp of English isn’t good enough to do them justice. You will really get a sense when I post the picture, of which I have many.

The weekend after I attended my first Ozzie Rules Match, or as they call it, football. It was Geelong versus Hawthorn and for all those that don’t know, both teams did crap this season, and were playing for nothing more than pride. And as it was a trouncing by Hawthorn it would see Geelong had none. The game was quite exciting, well as exciting as you can get when one team is leading by over 50 points. The most notable thing I can remember, apart from the 100 gram bag of ‘chip shop salt and vinegar crisps’ I managed to get through, was the good humour in the game and a sense of good feeling in the crowd. Something you can only hope will change in the future. Also noticeable was the quality of the reasonably priced pies, sorry, Bigtime but no Bovril.

Any way, we have moved into our new gaff, in a place called Fitzroy, just 3 Km north of the city centre. It is a nice place with an outdoor swimming pool for all the residence to use. I won’t use the pool, but I think I will do my weight training around there. Just need a reliable neighbour to ‘spot’ me. I think I will go knocking on the doors this weekend and ask for volunteers.

Any way I hope all is well.

Greeting from Australia

Hello All, just a brief note to let you know I have arrived

Well I am here and what a journey it was. If i knew the flight was going to be that bad then I may well have reconsidered. Part of me was wanting a bomb to go off to break the monotony. The food was nice, appart from the Brasied beef in Red wine sauce. I found the large amounts of fat on the meat were not cooked to my specification. Naturally I wanted to complain to the captain but apparently he was not accepting visitors due to the turbulance, so the First Officer had to do.

When I arrived in Hong Kong, it felt that like I was almost there, and I was, appart from the remaining 8 hour flight.

I arrived in Melbourne at 8pm Oz time and was thoroughly exhausted. Belinda was waiting at the gate and although she said she came to pick me up, I can't help but think she just drove to the airport to test drive the new car that she bought that morning. I still believe she is more excited about picking up that car than picking me up from the airport, and to be fair I don't blame her.

When we arrived at her house I thought the best thing I could do was to go out and start drinking, and so we did. It felt like a good idea but I cant help but think that this may have been a major contributor to the 2 day insomnia that ensued. This is why it has taken me so long to write this blog, as my eyes have just started functioning again.

On Saturday, we went into Town, or as they call it over here, the CBD. Melbourne is a lovely city, a mixture of tall highrise buildings and small colonial one (so colonial, it brought a tear to my eyes about the good time, hey Bigtime). Its odd as it has a big city feel but not the hectic crowded atmosphere of one. However, I was not in any fit state to draw comparisons due to the old sleep deprivation.

Food here is lovely, had my first chicken parma on sunday (a local obsession it would seem). Melbournians will only eat food which have chilli in it, even the chocolate. It will be some time before I have a chocolate chilli muffin thats for sure.

Any way I promised not to make these too long and so I stand by this. Just a note about the TV. God its bad, i can't believe the creator of such a beautiful invention as Sky heralded from a place where good wholesome television plays second fiddle to adverts. Belinda's house mate was watching 'Greys Anatomy' last night and a show which should last an hour went on to last 1hour 20 mins. (20 mins of that rubbish would be long enough). Luckily I have Yes Prime Minister in my bag. I didn't think I would need to get that out until the 3rd week but, needs must.

Any way I hope all is going well at home and say well done to your brother, Bigtime on his results.

All the best