Ding ding ding!

They glared at each other through the drunken mist, each one matching the determination and aggression of the other. Their blood was up, and the rest mist had firmly descended. Were you to ask one of them what the reason for the feud was, they would struggle to tell you, all that mattered was the next move. Eventually the moment came, and one of the combatants lunged forward...

That, was a wee artistic reconstruction of the end of our Monday night. I must admit, although both myself and JingleLad were involved, most of the details are second hand. The reason for this is that if you combined the states of 'steamin', 'gassed' and 'completely pure meltit' you may just about comprehend the condition of us two on Monday. Undoubtably the worst yet in Australia, and not a condition we'll match again willingly. Apparently we decided to have a boxing match in the small hours, always the thinking man's choice. We have no recollection of that whatsoever. 
I managed to culminate my pleasant evening by sleeping on top (not inside which would have been the sensible option) of a bus stop. Believe me, I was a bit confused when I woke up and the ground was 7 feet away from me. To add to my confusion, JingleLad was nowhere to be seen, and it was bright daylight. About 7am if memory serves. The working populace of the town (I have no idea where I was) were up and making the commute to Brisbane city. I take solace from the fact I would have at least made for an interesting topic of conversation throughout the early morning rush hour. In my own unique way, I'm actually just doing my bit for the community.

JingleLad (Sherlock Holmes, Wikipedia, an IPad 7 and a bag of those tablets from 'Limitless' would not be able to work out how he got home) was found face down on the road outside the hostel by one of the friendly Welsh hobbit-people This was about 4am we're told, so he was making good time on me. I was probably falling off a tree at this point, trying to reach the bus stop roof. He was helped carried up the stairs where he collapsed in the common room. He was awoken by the cleaners at 9.15, still completely blazing, and the brave young trooper made it to his work for a 8 hour shift. A collective round of applause please. I asked him later on if anybody said anything to him for being late, to which he replied "How would I ken? Ah wis only there in body."

One of JingleLad's main features is his comic outlook on life. There were two brilliant examples of this that i'd like to share with you. The first one was at that party on Monday, when he observed:

"Look at this man, they're all trying their hardest to get drunk and we're trying our hardest not to. We know how this is going to end up though..." 

In the room after finding an odd sock:

"Andy can you smell this to see if it's clean, I cani mind if I've.... (Use your imagination lads, apologies girls)

So that was Monday evening, a charming account of our time in Australia. In other news,  I've discovered a few interesting things about Aussie's from my time working in a bar over here. Cast your memories back if you will, to the lads/girls holidays the majority of us 80's urchins have been on. Destinations included Magaluf, Malia, Zante, Ibiza etc. Remember in the shop, buying your ammo for the evening ahead, you spot that concoction called Ouzo? Aye, pure mingin stuff, and usually used that night as some sort of forfeit. Australians drink that stuff, for pleasure. I was in the bar and someone ordered an Ouzo and lemonade, I politely inquired if he lost a bet, and he looked at me like I was the nutter. Either that or like the vast majority of people who drink at my work, he didn't understand a single thing I said. Some of the customers are genuinely scared of me when I start joking loudly with them and speaking slang, a fact that only spurs me on. There's one old boy in particular who if I'm the only one available to serve, he'll patiently wait on one of the Australians to free up, so determined is he to avoid the strange foreign oddball. One day though folks, one day I'll get him. Then it's fake Gaelic speaking time again. In a Jimmy hat, with face paint on.

Had a bit of a dispute with the tax authorities in Oz as well. They were over-taxing me massively, and today some strange money just appeared in my account. I tried to give them a wee buzz just to ensure this was them fixing their balls-up, and not some Christmas money from anyone. I was promptly told on the phone I was in the que, and my wait time was 90 minutes. Well that's just smashing isn't it chaps, what was I meant to do if Bargain Hunt was on in 10? Nicely of the tax office though, after me holding on for a bit they hung up on me. Considerate fellows, however they'll be getting no Christmas card from me. 

Speaking of money appearing in your account, that reminds me of a story I heard about another traveller. He was in Thailand and utterly skint, so he bites the bullet and calls his dad for a dig out. His dad erupts with laughter upon hearing the request, and yells the following down the phone:

"AHAHAHAHA you were the tit that wanted to go traveling, told yi it was a stupit idea! Nae joy pal!" 

He then played and sang along heartily to the song 'King of the Road' before hanging up. Classic.

And that's the latest update people. Christmas is approaching, although very different here in the sun. Looks like for JingleLad BorrusiaSaan and I it'll be a festive experience in a hostel, which could either be a really good laugh or as depressing as a bad result on an STI test. 
Nah it'll be sweet, we'll just buy cold turkey meat and instant gravy, problem solved. Cheerio for now folks, and Merry Christmas to everyone!