Nearly died last night, but I'll get to that later.
Well, this is the end of what has a been a mental, mental trip. Heading home tomorrow from Sydney airport and back to the real world, albeit briefly. The next trip on the agenda is Amsterdam, then it's over to Canada via a 5 month stint in the USA. It has been special.
I spent my last weekend in the country in Byron Bay, reunited with TopCat and our comrade from the states we went on the rip. An almighty session it was as well, full of all the trademark features: spew, crates, girls, and a 4 lane car swerve on the motorway. Strangely during that incident not one of the 4 of us shouted or panicked, we all just collectively clubbed together and prayed our car would not smash into the oncoming barrier. Or the car heading in the opposite direction 3 lanes down. Thankfully we made it back safe and sound, although I can vouch that is one effective way to wake yourself up from a slumber.
Woke up in a disabled toilet during that weekend as well, it was a whirlwind.
Brisbane has been and gone, and I finished up work on the Friday. My last moments culminated in my manager throwing water over me, good banter. Then I joined the warriors of room 35 for one last hurrah. Hopefully they ll all be sweet, but someone will have to take responsibility for JingleLad, feed and water him. BorrusiaSaan, your in charge.
And that's about it really for the moment, chilling in Wollongong for the rest of the day then up to Sydney early doors tomorrow. Need to get that typical tourist picture in front of the opera house, and then board the (correct) flight to Hong Kong. Thursday fubes as well if anyone's keen this week.
And so ends this blog, in Oz anyway. Opinions welcome to see if I should continue it or stop slevering.
See you on the other side!
Tuesday, 20 March 2012
Tuesday, 21 February 2012
Pacific Dawn
"You were completely ignoring us! You looked at us then said something to your mate and walked the other way!"
"No I didn't honest, I never saw you there! If I did I would've came over and said hello."
"Yeah right, I know your type. Dickheads!"
I protested my innocence for a little while longer, vainly trying to convince this girl I hadn't intentionally ignored her. Her 2 friends joined the debate and it soon evolved into a 'Lets all abuse Andy' session. I stopped listening and walked away.
(For reference, I did ignore the girl. The reason being it was valentines day the next day and I was suspicious she was a bit too keen. I thought that was a politer option than telling her the truth, and less likely to get me slapped.)
So as I write this, I'm somewhere in the Pacific ocean heading back to Brisbane. We've visited New Caledonia, Lithu, and Vanuatu. It was superb. Vanuatu was a personal highlight, we spent a couple of hours at this unreal waterfall in the morning then some shopping in the afternoon. Our local guide and taxi driver showed us how to slide down the rocks, and gave us a wee tour of the limestone caves in the area. Tommy was a class guy but like all the other taxi drivers in Vanuatu, very very enthusiastic in getting fares. He liked to randomly stop the car to pick up other customers, regardless if they were heading in our direction or not.
As we left the boat there was a small army waiting on us, all screaming different prices for their cabs and waving at us. It was a rare laugh though watching them argue with each other while trying to maintain a healthy level of banter with us. The taxi itself was pretty interesting, it was basically just someone's van with seats thrown in. Tommy told us not to worry about seatbelts, apparently their a bit laid back in that aspect. There's also no speed limit, or any sort of regulations regarding driving. This was displayed to us several times as Tommy boy hurdled past a car while oncoming traffic was flying towards us. The big man wasn't worried though, just cut inside back onto our side of the road with inches to spare. It was like the Pacific version of James Bond, and good fun if you managed not to think about the fact you might well die any second.
In Vanuatu, the drink is also ridiculously cheap. The duty free shop was mobbed with people from the cruise, wondering round like kids in a candy shop. Every two seconds all you heard was people shouting out about how good this was. I imagine if you moved the population of the raptap to Vanuatu that shop would need the A-Team to guard it from daily robbery.
New Caledonia was a nice wee place as well. Some of the local populace would come out to welcome us, offer massages or hair braiding in exchange for real money. Not too sure what the currency was in Lithu, but I imagine theres not much you couldn't buy with a bag of coconuts and a stick. The little kids were completely blown away by our cameras, and kept taking a ton of pictures. Funny wee experience.
So it's been a mad wee week. Managed to get cut off from the bar last night as well. They were about an hour too late though, as by the time the boy told me I could hardly see him. If I'm buying shots as well I have to say who they're for, or he'll only give me one. Knows the score this lad. He tried that last night, so I pointed to three random people next to me who played along well. I then downed the 3 Sambucas in rapid succession and said cheers to the bemused barman. Reynolds 1, Cruise Rules, hee-haw.
If they think that's bad they're not going to like tomorrow. I have a cunning plan. I'm going to do a morph day, start drinking nice and early and see what happens. Bound to be some good stories that emerge from a drunk Scottish guy in a bright orange suit on a boat. News headline : ARSEHOLE ATTEMPTS TO STEAL CRUISE LINER.
Speaking on drinking on this boat, it is very dangerous. You don't even need money, they just give you a stupid wee card and that's that. Probably for the best I'm not on this boat with JingleLad, BorrusiaSaan or TopCat, or I'd be here an extra month paying off the bar tab. It would be an endless cycle of pain and bourbon.
Managed a bit of a feat as well onboard. Smashed my own PB in terms of eldest... It was the ambition that evening, and armed with the power of youth I went cougar baiting. The hunter became the hunted!
It's pretty hard as well in the morning on this thing. You think your a wee bit hungover, then the boat sways from side to side and boom, your on the deck. It gets a bit confusing telling the difference from seasickness and alcohol. I blame seasickness.
And that's been the week. When I arrive back in Brissy I'll only have a month left in Oz, then it's back home again. Speaking of which, if anyone's keen for a night out the Thursday I'm home (22nd March) I'm game. Get home, have a laugh and renew my ban from Fubar. Boomtown.
PS: It's now a couple of days since I last wrote this update, and a few things have come to light that might make for an interesting read. Turns out on that boat they were keeping a close on a few people, and I was apparently on this list. When one of my friends went to enquire where her drink she bought in Vanuatu was (they take it off you before you get back on the boat and return it on the last day), she was told that the beverages wouldn't be delivered to our room because there was a Responsible Service of Alcohol risk in our room. In other words - me. It was ironic because they'd already delivered my drink to the room, and had I been so inclined I could've necked it. Eejits.
What else... We went down to surfers paradise for a few days there. Took Boydie (mate who is over visiting) down to see the place, and hit up a theme park. We went to Dreamworld, and we didn't quite get value for money. A little maths problem for you... If we paid $80 in, went on 2 rides, at what time did we go to the pub? Yep, wasn't really alot in terms of good rides, so we basically paid a fair bit of money for 2 roller coasters and entry into a beer garden. Another sound investment for team Australia.
Later on that day, we decided it would be a smashing idea to phone home and have a bit of a laugh. Gave my phone to one of the English lads as it was dialing home, and the conversation was as follows:
*Brother answers* "Hello?"
"Mr Reynolds, this is PC Brian Stevens from the Queensland Police. We have an Andy Reynolds in custody here on charges of solicitation. There is a option for a bail out, and this was the number he listed as an emergency contact."
"Alright... What's the exchange rate?"
It kind of lost track a bit after that as he couldn't keep a straight face any longer and passed the phone to me, who explained that I was thankfully not in jail. Brilliant though, that my brother wasn't surprised or asked for any more detail, just committed straight to the rescue operation. Man points to him, and a few beers when I get back.
"No I didn't honest, I never saw you there! If I did I would've came over and said hello."
"Yeah right, I know your type. Dickheads!"
I protested my innocence for a little while longer, vainly trying to convince this girl I hadn't intentionally ignored her. Her 2 friends joined the debate and it soon evolved into a 'Lets all abuse Andy' session. I stopped listening and walked away.
(For reference, I did ignore the girl. The reason being it was valentines day the next day and I was suspicious she was a bit too keen. I thought that was a politer option than telling her the truth, and less likely to get me slapped.)
So as I write this, I'm somewhere in the Pacific ocean heading back to Brisbane. We've visited New Caledonia, Lithu, and Vanuatu. It was superb. Vanuatu was a personal highlight, we spent a couple of hours at this unreal waterfall in the morning then some shopping in the afternoon. Our local guide and taxi driver showed us how to slide down the rocks, and gave us a wee tour of the limestone caves in the area. Tommy was a class guy but like all the other taxi drivers in Vanuatu, very very enthusiastic in getting fares. He liked to randomly stop the car to pick up other customers, regardless if they were heading in our direction or not.
As we left the boat there was a small army waiting on us, all screaming different prices for their cabs and waving at us. It was a rare laugh though watching them argue with each other while trying to maintain a healthy level of banter with us. The taxi itself was pretty interesting, it was basically just someone's van with seats thrown in. Tommy told us not to worry about seatbelts, apparently their a bit laid back in that aspect. There's also no speed limit, or any sort of regulations regarding driving. This was displayed to us several times as Tommy boy hurdled past a car while oncoming traffic was flying towards us. The big man wasn't worried though, just cut inside back onto our side of the road with inches to spare. It was like the Pacific version of James Bond, and good fun if you managed not to think about the fact you might well die any second.
In Vanuatu, the drink is also ridiculously cheap. The duty free shop was mobbed with people from the cruise, wondering round like kids in a candy shop. Every two seconds all you heard was people shouting out about how good this was. I imagine if you moved the population of the raptap to Vanuatu that shop would need the A-Team to guard it from daily robbery.
New Caledonia was a nice wee place as well. Some of the local populace would come out to welcome us, offer massages or hair braiding in exchange for real money. Not too sure what the currency was in Lithu, but I imagine theres not much you couldn't buy with a bag of coconuts and a stick. The little kids were completely blown away by our cameras, and kept taking a ton of pictures. Funny wee experience.
So it's been a mad wee week. Managed to get cut off from the bar last night as well. They were about an hour too late though, as by the time the boy told me I could hardly see him. If I'm buying shots as well I have to say who they're for, or he'll only give me one. Knows the score this lad. He tried that last night, so I pointed to three random people next to me who played along well. I then downed the 3 Sambucas in rapid succession and said cheers to the bemused barman. Reynolds 1, Cruise Rules, hee-haw.
If they think that's bad they're not going to like tomorrow. I have a cunning plan. I'm going to do a morph day, start drinking nice and early and see what happens. Bound to be some good stories that emerge from a drunk Scottish guy in a bright orange suit on a boat. News headline : ARSEHOLE ATTEMPTS TO STEAL CRUISE LINER.
Speaking on drinking on this boat, it is very dangerous. You don't even need money, they just give you a stupid wee card and that's that. Probably for the best I'm not on this boat with JingleLad, BorrusiaSaan or TopCat, or I'd be here an extra month paying off the bar tab. It would be an endless cycle of pain and bourbon.
Managed a bit of a feat as well onboard. Smashed my own PB in terms of eldest... It was the ambition that evening, and armed with the power of youth I went cougar baiting. The hunter became the hunted!
It's pretty hard as well in the morning on this thing. You think your a wee bit hungover, then the boat sways from side to side and boom, your on the deck. It gets a bit confusing telling the difference from seasickness and alcohol. I blame seasickness.
And that's been the week. When I arrive back in Brissy I'll only have a month left in Oz, then it's back home again. Speaking of which, if anyone's keen for a night out the Thursday I'm home (22nd March) I'm game. Get home, have a laugh and renew my ban from Fubar. Boomtown.
PS: It's now a couple of days since I last wrote this update, and a few things have come to light that might make for an interesting read. Turns out on that boat they were keeping a close on a few people, and I was apparently on this list. When one of my friends went to enquire where her drink she bought in Vanuatu was (they take it off you before you get back on the boat and return it on the last day), she was told that the beverages wouldn't be delivered to our room because there was a Responsible Service of Alcohol risk in our room. In other words - me. It was ironic because they'd already delivered my drink to the room, and had I been so inclined I could've necked it. Eejits.
What else... We went down to surfers paradise for a few days there. Took Boydie (mate who is over visiting) down to see the place, and hit up a theme park. We went to Dreamworld, and we didn't quite get value for money. A little maths problem for you... If we paid $80 in, went on 2 rides, at what time did we go to the pub? Yep, wasn't really alot in terms of good rides, so we basically paid a fair bit of money for 2 roller coasters and entry into a beer garden. Another sound investment for team Australia.
Later on that day, we decided it would be a smashing idea to phone home and have a bit of a laugh. Gave my phone to one of the English lads as it was dialing home, and the conversation was as follows:
*Brother answers* "Hello?"
"Mr Reynolds, this is PC Brian Stevens from the Queensland Police. We have an Andy Reynolds in custody here on charges of solicitation. There is a option for a bail out, and this was the number he listed as an emergency contact."
"Alright... What's the exchange rate?"
It kind of lost track a bit after that as he couldn't keep a straight face any longer and passed the phone to me, who explained that I was thankfully not in jail. Brilliant though, that my brother wasn't surprised or asked for any more detail, just committed straight to the rescue operation. Man points to him, and a few beers when I get back.
Tuesday, 7 February 2012
The A-League
It's been a while since I've put an update of decent length on this, so I'll take some time and go over a few things I've missed in the past, and what's been going on recently.
One Sunday afternoon not too long ago I was coming back to the hostel, alls well and good so far. When I arrived back here I expected the normal Sunday scene, people drinking a bit, chilling a bit and generally lazing about. What I did not expect to see was alot of people completely PISHED upstairs, bouncing about the place and having a bit of a party. The reasoning behind the festivities? Was it someone's birthday, or maybe some jammy rat had won a bit of money? Neither, it was conclusive proof that backpackers need very little reason to have a proper good session.
It was Chinese new year. Basically, alot of the people I live with were a wee bit bored so jumped on a bus out to Chinatown, and generally went mental with the Asian populace of Brisbane. Good banter. It must have been an interesting new year for the Chinese people, can't be too often they get a group of blootered European backpackers turning up shouting "Year of the Dug!" or "Year of the Mouse!"
In other news theres a compete belter of a video I need to put up on my Facebook. I was headed out to trusty 7-11 one morning for a wee carton of milk, but as I walked past reception some funny stuff started to happen:
"Hey Andy!"
"Aye? How's it goin, whits hapnin?"
"Apparently your mate is upstairs in the common room, completely off his face. He managed to spew all over himself, and he's been generally going mental. Do you know what's wrong with him?"
I weighed up the options. There were 2 possible candidates that would fall into the category of close mate in this place. Considering their personalities and drinking tendencies I played the law of averages:
"Is it JingleLad?" I said nervously, well aware of the damage he's capable of.
My worst fears were confirmed with a nod of the head and a plea to go and try talk some sense into him. I checked the time, 11.30am. Brilliant.
So up I went and try I did, but maybe we should leave the rest to the video. Theres only so much words I can use to describe the complete mess displayed on floor 1. I'll try get it uploaded soon, but some of the highlights missing from the video were JingleLad throwing a knife at me to man me up (his words), him head-butting the floor (burst nose), crawling about the place, spewing, and saying some very questionable things to a pair of Irishmen.
BorrusiaSaan and I took a wee trip to the 'outlet mall' just outside Brisbane. The reason I've used hyphens around the outlet mall is because it was just the opposite of such. Nothing at all was any cheaper than in the shops and it was basically a long trip for very little. BorrusiaSaan (after trying things on for ages and generally acting like a complete bird) walked out the proud owner of 2 new tshirts, while I picked up a beastly chicken burger and 2 cheap bottles of wine. I suppose our priorities are somewhat reflected in our purchases, yet I feel I came out on top. You can't eat a tshirt.
Also in Shawshank/Folsom/Barlinie (various nicknames I have for our hostel, but all appropriate) there are a few special rules. Allegedly you cannot drink anywhere in the hostel and if you do, "The police will be called and you will be removed from the premises". Indeed...
This story ties in with the fact the place hired a new bouncer, who tried to properly enforce these new rules. If we were having a social bevvy upstairs he would come up and nick our drink. We simply were not having this after staying here for so long, so half-cut we made a wee trip to reception. Rather than a quiet word in our ear about being idiots and clearly breaking the rules, they promised to speak to the new lad and tell him to calm down. Brilliant, disregarding their own rules because the long-termers like a bit of a swall. Next up is our attempt to tackle the ban on 'ladies of the night'.
And that's the script so far in February! It's going well and this is my last full month in the country now before I do a runner. This month promises to be a belter though, a mate from home coming over, a cruise to 3 different countries, trip down to Surfers, and Fraser Island planned so far.
One Sunday afternoon not too long ago I was coming back to the hostel, alls well and good so far. When I arrived back here I expected the normal Sunday scene, people drinking a bit, chilling a bit and generally lazing about. What I did not expect to see was alot of people completely PISHED upstairs, bouncing about the place and having a bit of a party. The reasoning behind the festivities? Was it someone's birthday, or maybe some jammy rat had won a bit of money? Neither, it was conclusive proof that backpackers need very little reason to have a proper good session.
It was Chinese new year. Basically, alot of the people I live with were a wee bit bored so jumped on a bus out to Chinatown, and generally went mental with the Asian populace of Brisbane. Good banter. It must have been an interesting new year for the Chinese people, can't be too often they get a group of blootered European backpackers turning up shouting "Year of the Dug!" or "Year of the Mouse!"
In other news theres a compete belter of a video I need to put up on my Facebook. I was headed out to trusty 7-11 one morning for a wee carton of milk, but as I walked past reception some funny stuff started to happen:
"Hey Andy!"
"Aye? How's it goin, whits hapnin?"
"Apparently your mate is upstairs in the common room, completely off his face. He managed to spew all over himself, and he's been generally going mental. Do you know what's wrong with him?"
I weighed up the options. There were 2 possible candidates that would fall into the category of close mate in this place. Considering their personalities and drinking tendencies I played the law of averages:
"Is it JingleLad?" I said nervously, well aware of the damage he's capable of.
My worst fears were confirmed with a nod of the head and a plea to go and try talk some sense into him. I checked the time, 11.30am. Brilliant.
So up I went and try I did, but maybe we should leave the rest to the video. Theres only so much words I can use to describe the complete mess displayed on floor 1. I'll try get it uploaded soon, but some of the highlights missing from the video were JingleLad throwing a knife at me to man me up (his words), him head-butting the floor (burst nose), crawling about the place, spewing, and saying some very questionable things to a pair of Irishmen.
BorrusiaSaan and I took a wee trip to the 'outlet mall' just outside Brisbane. The reason I've used hyphens around the outlet mall is because it was just the opposite of such. Nothing at all was any cheaper than in the shops and it was basically a long trip for very little. BorrusiaSaan (after trying things on for ages and generally acting like a complete bird) walked out the proud owner of 2 new tshirts, while I picked up a beastly chicken burger and 2 cheap bottles of wine. I suppose our priorities are somewhat reflected in our purchases, yet I feel I came out on top. You can't eat a tshirt.
Also in Shawshank/Folsom/Barlinie (various nicknames I have for our hostel, but all appropriate) there are a few special rules. Allegedly you cannot drink anywhere in the hostel and if you do, "The police will be called and you will be removed from the premises". Indeed...
This story ties in with the fact the place hired a new bouncer, who tried to properly enforce these new rules. If we were having a social bevvy upstairs he would come up and nick our drink. We simply were not having this after staying here for so long, so half-cut we made a wee trip to reception. Rather than a quiet word in our ear about being idiots and clearly breaking the rules, they promised to speak to the new lad and tell him to calm down. Brilliant, disregarding their own rules because the long-termers like a bit of a swall. Next up is our attempt to tackle the ban on 'ladies of the night'.
And that's the script so far in February! It's going well and this is my last full month in the country now before I do a runner. This month promises to be a belter though, a mate from home coming over, a cruise to 3 different countries, trip down to Surfers, and Fraser Island planned so far.
Monday, 23 January 2012
Cricket and other weird things...
First update for a little while, it's been pretty much life as normal over here recently. Mainly I've been trying to save up a bit of cash for February, which unfortunately will be my last month in Oz. It'll be some way to bow out though, on the agenda so far is a trip to 3 different countries, a good mate from home coming to visit, and potentially a 4 day adventure in Fraser Island and Rainbow Beach. Then it's a return to the homeland in mid March, Amsterdam and America in the near future.
Yeah so basically January's been a quiet old month so far, alot of people are still skint from Christmas, and backpackers aren't really the wealthiest of groups to begin with. There has been the odd wee story worthy of a mention though.
JingleLad has landed himself a job in the bar downstairs, which sorts him out with free accommodation. It does mean BorrusiaSaan and myself are denied the pleasure of his rancid morning scent, but we'll pull through.
So he's now in the staff room, a palace adorned with ridiculous luxuries such as a cupboard, open space to move about in, and fairy lights to brighten up the place. BorrusiaSaan and I are remain on the front line, or cell 35 as it's known.
The venture into the staff room did give us an opportunity to meet a few new people though, and worm our way into another social circle. Theres a few 8+/10 girls in said circle, but as I'll explain our patter is still floating about the 2 mark. When trying to chat up a girl from England, JingleLad's opening line consisted of:
"So eh... di yi go to Tesco's at home?"
I fared little better with this charmer when talking to a girl from Finland:
"Aye.... So what's Finland like?"
They were suitably unimpressed, and our chances with them (sober) are about as likely as a Mr J.Fritzel receiving a Father's Day gift.
The bar downstairs has the odd event as well to try pull in the Brisbane steamboats. They were trying to do a dead celebrity party (no idea why), but it was quite the coup for them securing Amy Winehouse as the special guest. They should just stick to what they're good at, arranging jelly fights between girls. They generally do that on Sunday's and it's a bit weird to think that while alot of people back home are sitting in church, we're placing bets on which semi-naked girl will manage to win a jelly fight. Ying and yang.
Been thrust into the Aussie lifestyle as well in a way I'd never thought possible. I was more than happy to give surfing a go, and even Aussie Rules, but never for a second did I think I'd be representing Australia in a grudge game of cricket against some very serious Indians. The 'game' was held in such regard that it began at 9am on a Sunday morning! Aye... I know. The Aussie boys I was with told me I'd recognise when the Indians approach, as a fleet of taxis would turn up and they'd pile out all corners. Not only that, but shortly after arriving two Indian guys started properly boxing and going for it allegedly over who was opening the batting? Insane.
The game itself went on for a good 6 hours under the Brisbane sunshine. Later I discovered wearing a singlet (Australian for vest) was not the best idea. Upon removing said vest, it looked like I was still wearing one albeit a very white one in comparison to the super sunburn on my arms/neck. Theres really no way to say it other than I looked like a complete fanny.
My performance as a cricketer was pretty much as expected, gash. I was out after one bowl from this Indian speed demon, and I wouldn't have hit the ball if I was using a table for a bat. Easily the worst player there, and I felt about as capable as Timmy from South Park doing the 100m dash. The only salvation was I did catch a wicket and get one of the Indians out, basically like scoring a goal in a real sport. (T if your reading this, get it up you!)
Some of the guys from the hostel went on a night out last Saturday, and clearly have too much money. BorrusiaSaan was with them, and said one of them just ran into a shop and purchased the biggest blackest d.... available in the shop. Just what you need when your trying to get into a club.
Suspiciously, it ended up back at our hostel. I imagine it was a rare treat for the people getting up to head to work on Sunday morning, sitting down to eat your cereal opposite the Brisbane Beast. T (a bouncer from my work, genuine good guy despite maintaining cricket is a sport) and I headed out for a bit of a session on Sunday night, which got a bit messy drinks wise. I thought I had a quiet one and went to bed when I got home, but I'm told otherwise. Allegedly upon my return I was running about the hostel with the aforementioned oblong rubber object smacking people round the head. I'm nothing if not a charmer.
And that's about all that's been going on so far in 2012. February should be a really decent month so well looking forward to that. Catch ya in a bit, hope it's freezing back home!
Yeah so basically January's been a quiet old month so far, alot of people are still skint from Christmas, and backpackers aren't really the wealthiest of groups to begin with. There has been the odd wee story worthy of a mention though.
JingleLad has landed himself a job in the bar downstairs, which sorts him out with free accommodation. It does mean BorrusiaSaan and myself are denied the pleasure of his rancid morning scent, but we'll pull through.
So he's now in the staff room, a palace adorned with ridiculous luxuries such as a cupboard, open space to move about in, and fairy lights to brighten up the place. BorrusiaSaan and I are remain on the front line, or cell 35 as it's known.
The venture into the staff room did give us an opportunity to meet a few new people though, and worm our way into another social circle. Theres a few 8+/10 girls in said circle, but as I'll explain our patter is still floating about the 2 mark. When trying to chat up a girl from England, JingleLad's opening line consisted of:
"So eh... di yi go to Tesco's at home?"
I fared little better with this charmer when talking to a girl from Finland:
"Aye.... So what's Finland like?"
They were suitably unimpressed, and our chances with them (sober) are about as likely as a Mr J.Fritzel receiving a Father's Day gift.
The bar downstairs has the odd event as well to try pull in the Brisbane steamboats. They were trying to do a dead celebrity party (no idea why), but it was quite the coup for them securing Amy Winehouse as the special guest. They should just stick to what they're good at, arranging jelly fights between girls. They generally do that on Sunday's and it's a bit weird to think that while alot of people back home are sitting in church, we're placing bets on which semi-naked girl will manage to win a jelly fight. Ying and yang.
Been thrust into the Aussie lifestyle as well in a way I'd never thought possible. I was more than happy to give surfing a go, and even Aussie Rules, but never for a second did I think I'd be representing Australia in a grudge game of cricket against some very serious Indians. The 'game' was held in such regard that it began at 9am on a Sunday morning! Aye... I know. The Aussie boys I was with told me I'd recognise when the Indians approach, as a fleet of taxis would turn up and they'd pile out all corners. Not only that, but shortly after arriving two Indian guys started properly boxing and going for it allegedly over who was opening the batting? Insane.
The game itself went on for a good 6 hours under the Brisbane sunshine. Later I discovered wearing a singlet (Australian for vest) was not the best idea. Upon removing said vest, it looked like I was still wearing one albeit a very white one in comparison to the super sunburn on my arms/neck. Theres really no way to say it other than I looked like a complete fanny.
My performance as a cricketer was pretty much as expected, gash. I was out after one bowl from this Indian speed demon, and I wouldn't have hit the ball if I was using a table for a bat. Easily the worst player there, and I felt about as capable as Timmy from South Park doing the 100m dash. The only salvation was I did catch a wicket and get one of the Indians out, basically like scoring a goal in a real sport. (T if your reading this, get it up you!)
Some of the guys from the hostel went on a night out last Saturday, and clearly have too much money. BorrusiaSaan was with them, and said one of them just ran into a shop and purchased the biggest blackest d.... available in the shop. Just what you need when your trying to get into a club.
Suspiciously, it ended up back at our hostel. I imagine it was a rare treat for the people getting up to head to work on Sunday morning, sitting down to eat your cereal opposite the Brisbane Beast. T (a bouncer from my work, genuine good guy despite maintaining cricket is a sport) and I headed out for a bit of a session on Sunday night, which got a bit messy drinks wise. I thought I had a quiet one and went to bed when I got home, but I'm told otherwise. Allegedly upon my return I was running about the hostel with the aforementioned oblong rubber object smacking people round the head. I'm nothing if not a charmer.
And that's about all that's been going on so far in 2012. February should be a really decent month so well looking forward to that. Catch ya in a bit, hope it's freezing back home!
Tuesday, 3 January 2012
2012
If you refer back to the start of this blog, you'll notice a certain little disclaimer I included regarding how I may unfortunately not be able to include ALL details of events in Australia. In this blog entry I will have to utilise said disclaimer. The events of the evening of 24th December 2011 will have to remain part of an eternal bond between JingleLad, BorrusiaSaan, myself, and 90% of people who were in our hostel. There's a few other people who are also aware of events, but revealing their occupation would give the game away. It was not your normal Christmas Eve however, we'll leave it at that.
Christmas itself was predictably weird, waking up in the sunshine. Our day was spent down at the lagoons which are man-made beaches in Brisbane. Usual patter, sunglasses on and scouting begins. Kept it quiet as well and laid off the drink for a change, but all in all a nice relaxing day. Nae turkey though.
Hogmannay was a better affair. Infact, it was brilliant and easily one of the best ones I've had. We went down to south bank, massive carry-oot and planked ourselves down to watch the fireworks. We were kilted up as well, so the odd person came up to us to chat about home. One Australian girl came up and was ripping us for wearing skirts, but that is to be expected from those the midwife dropped.
After that we went on a wee adventure, and headed back to the city centre. We were walking through the main street of Brisbane when JingleLad decided to give the pipes a blast. Boomtown! Within about 30 seconds we had literally at least 40 people of all nationalities dancing about like maniacs. People in suits, homeless minks, terrified asian tourists, steamin backpackers and confused locals were birling away to JingleLad's pipes. I decided in that moment I knew how to highland dance, and was skipping about in the middle while the group surrounded me applauding, and a few gullible fools asked me for lessons. It was unreal, we weren't even busking but people were giving us money, bottles of wine, and half a sandwich from 7-11.
Things are slowly adjusting back to normal now after the festive period though, and we're sinking back into the backpackers thought process. This was highlighted the other day, while I did the trusty smell test on a pair of boxers. Success, and the boxers graduated from round 1 and made in into the more perilous arena of round 2. When underwear starts making it to round 4 though, it's always worth a double check to ensure your sense of smell is still functioning. That, or throw it at someone and gauge from their reaction just how bad the garment smells.
Also realised yesterday that despite being in Australia for about 2 months now, I've still not unpacked my bag. That is ridiculous like. I've basically just been wearing the same 5 tshirts with varying pairs of shorts, to create the image of cleanliness. That or buying stuff from Target, and I wonder why I'm skint.
Just a small update the now, happy new year everyone!
Christmas itself was predictably weird, waking up in the sunshine. Our day was spent down at the lagoons which are man-made beaches in Brisbane. Usual patter, sunglasses on and scouting begins. Kept it quiet as well and laid off the drink for a change, but all in all a nice relaxing day. Nae turkey though.
Hogmannay was a better affair. Infact, it was brilliant and easily one of the best ones I've had. We went down to south bank, massive carry-oot and planked ourselves down to watch the fireworks. We were kilted up as well, so the odd person came up to us to chat about home. One Australian girl came up and was ripping us for wearing skirts, but that is to be expected from those the midwife dropped.
After that we went on a wee adventure, and headed back to the city centre. We were walking through the main street of Brisbane when JingleLad decided to give the pipes a blast. Boomtown! Within about 30 seconds we had literally at least 40 people of all nationalities dancing about like maniacs. People in suits, homeless minks, terrified asian tourists, steamin backpackers and confused locals were birling away to JingleLad's pipes. I decided in that moment I knew how to highland dance, and was skipping about in the middle while the group surrounded me applauding, and a few gullible fools asked me for lessons. It was unreal, we weren't even busking but people were giving us money, bottles of wine, and half a sandwich from 7-11.
Things are slowly adjusting back to normal now after the festive period though, and we're sinking back into the backpackers thought process. This was highlighted the other day, while I did the trusty smell test on a pair of boxers. Success, and the boxers graduated from round 1 and made in into the more perilous arena of round 2. When underwear starts making it to round 4 though, it's always worth a double check to ensure your sense of smell is still functioning. That, or throw it at someone and gauge from their reaction just how bad the garment smells.
Also realised yesterday that despite being in Australia for about 2 months now, I've still not unpacked my bag. That is ridiculous like. I've basically just been wearing the same 5 tshirts with varying pairs of shorts, to create the image of cleanliness. That or buying stuff from Target, and I wonder why I'm skint.
Just a small update the now, happy new year everyone!
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