"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.
Tuesday, 21 February 2012
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.
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