Entry 17: Sydney, Auckland, Dunedin, Greymouth, Christchurch, Wellington

Happy belated Christmas and New Year!

Well, after my second jaunt in New Zealand I have discovered that I have turned into an absolute wimp. Those of you who are regular readers may remember how, a few months ago, I was complaining that various British/Irish folk thought that any temperature under 20 degrees was now deemed 'cold'. Well, when I arrived into Dunedin the temperature was 14 degrees, which nearly lead me to having a temperature related breakdown. Things only got worse from there though.

I was in Dunedin to watch more cricket, as New Zealand were playing the West Indies in the first test of the Kiwi summer (I use the word summer lightly). How on earth they came to the decision to play a test match there is beyond me, as apparently a few years back one test match there was rained off for the complete 5 days. Having met up with Giles after the second day was rained off, we then proceeded to brave out the cold conditions on day 3, enjoying a peak temperature of 8 degrees. The phrase 'brave out' is a bit rich really, as I spent the day complaining to Giles about how cold I was, sipping at tea like a like my life depended on it.

Needless to say, I wasn't totally devastated to leave Dunedin after this and headed further north to Greymouth where Giles is now living, which is where the weather got really bad.

After arriving late on a Sunday evening, it then proceeded to rain constantly on Monday and Tuesday. It rained most of the day on Wednesday, and only rained a little on Thursday. Then it rained constantly on Friday and Saturday, at which point I left. According to one man I spoke to on my penultimate day the weather was only going to get worse too. Greymouth, surely the most aptly named town I have been to since Banos in Ecuador.

Giles and his new house had to move out of his house briefly during the week, so I joined them in a local hotel. This proved perfect timing as the Australia v South Africa test series began on that very day, and with the hotel being equipped with ‘Sky’, I was able to enjoy the first days play as the elements pounded everything outside. I hoped to use this as an opportunity to ridicule the performance of Australia in the test series, but what with English cricket imploding amidst public name calling that ended with a series of redundancies, I have decided to stay quiet on this subject.

Before leaving Greymouth Giles and I visited the local brewery, 'Monteith's'. Responsible for one of the nearest thing you can get to an ale on this side the hemisphere, 'Monteith's' put on a fine tour of their beer producing techniques, which ends with a few free tasters of all of their tipples. Some people on the tour clearly weren't too impressed with some of the tasters though and left before finishing a few of these free drinks, which provided Giles with a perfect chance to 'minesweep' a few of the leftovers. We were asked to leave shortly after this, but I think that was just because we weren't local.

The following morning we awoke to yet more rain, so made our way across to the east coast for an evening in Christchurch. It was Giles' work Christmas party that evening, so seeing an opportunity for some free food I also attended. Overall is was a cracking night, with a great deal of 'pressing-on', which also featured people spraying cooking oil in each other’s mouths (as you can see from the photo, some people needed more encouragement than others), a man who no-one seemed to like, a bottle of wine that smelt like poo and a hilarious moment when Ian (Giles' work colleague who was good enough to let me crash at his house for a couple of nights) was dancing with his girlfriend, but accidentally let go in the middle of a rather strong swing, only to see her go flying across the room at quite a speed and landed perfectly in a chair that wasn't really designed for such high-impact sitting down.

Sadly the night did end in tragedy for me though, after I spent some time rolling on the floor with an adorable dog (I actually mean a dog and not some minger I had picked up), only to find the next morning that I had destroyed my camera.

From Christchurch my next port of call was Wellington, for some Christmas celebrating with Dec.

Luckily, after a day of none stop rain on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day was a glorious affair. After being ridiculed by an OAP for eating porridge - or gruel as she described it- we headed over to some friends of Dec's who were having a rooftop party to celebrate Jesus’ birthday. The meal was an absolute triumph, with each attendee responsible for bringing a different part of the menu. Dec and I were on roast vegetable duty, and if I do say so myself we did a bloody good job. Sadly I think we were put in the shade by a certain someone’s potato gratin though....Daire.

My original plan had been to leave Wellington on the night bus that evening to head to Auckland, but after an afternoon of drinking this plan had to be shelved. Thanks for letting me crash at your place Jenny, Sochi and Joe.

After Christmas Day, Boxing Day proved to be a more relaxing affair...well, not that sitting on a rooftop drinking beer and eating was that physically exerting. After a lovely leftover lunch we all made our way to the beach for more sun-burning, before embarking on a mammoth game of ‘Pictionary’, which at one point I thought may actually spread over into 2009. At this point I discovered that not only can I not draw to save my life, but most of my drawings also seem to resemble penises. Now I know how the kid in 'Superbad' felt.

Although I do have more to report I think I am going to save it for another entry. I think this neatly bookmarks Christmas, so stay tuned for New Year.

See you later

Vinny/Ian

A few observations:

At Arthur's Pass, which connects the east and west coast of the south island of New Zealand, you can find the best piece of cake I have ever tasted. Giles and myself aren't exactly sure what it was called, but it seemed to contain shortbread pastry, caramel custard and a crumble topping. If you find yourself on the stretch of road at some point keep your eyes peeled for it. Oh, and if you do find it please let me know what it is called, and if possible get the recipe for me.

Another food triumph that can be found not far from Arthur's Pass on the south island are Sheffield pies. I head a steak and cheese and it was possibly the best pie I have ever tasted. I couldn't believe my luck that day. The best pie and cake I have ever tasted, all on the same journey. It certainly made up for the rain.

Drivers in New Zealand seem to drive with their eyes closed quite a lot of the time. That is the only reason I can think of for them being so bad at it.

Entry 16: Sydney, Canberra, Melbourne, Airlie Beach, Whitsundays, Brisbane

I know, I know, its been weeks, months even, since I last left a little update on what I have been up to. Apologies to you all, particularly those of you who are currently stuck in minus °C temperatures and use my blog as a way to warm your lives. Well, today isn’t too good weather wise on this side of the world you’ll be glad to hear. A rather chilly 28°C is what I have awoken to this morning. Hopefully it will get nicer this afternoon though.

At present I find myself back in Sydney, following a short trip away to celebrate my birthday. I headed up the East Coast to the Whitsunday Islands, before then taking a trip south to Brisbane to watch Australia take on New Zealand at the Gabba in the first test match of the Australian summer.

Having finished work on November 14, I packed my belongings back into my backpack following my 7 months of being a Sydneysider, bid farewell to my housemates Bridget and Kate, and went north, where I met up with my former neighbour at university, Craig. The pair of us then spent the next few days on ‘The Pride of Airlie’, a rather impressive boat which allowed us to witness the most beautiful spot of Australia I have seen so far, Whitehaven Beach. By day we sailed - stopping off occasionally to do some snorkelling – and by night we drank, which did create the occasional problem with the sailing. Needless to say, we both took in a number of deep breaths when boarding the morning after a heavy night, though I don’t think either of us were sick. High fives all around!

Our flight back down the coast to Brisbane proved to be particularly interesting. Throughout the week Queensland had been battered by various cyclones, though luckily we were not affected by it. As we approached Brisbane the city was still experiencing some freak weather though, with hail stones the size of golf balls raining down. This resulted in a reasonable amount of turbulence, but also the incredible spectacle of the evening sky being lit up every few seconds with bolts of lightning.

The following day was my birthday, which was exciting, but it wasn’t excitement that woke me up. Being back in a hostel, I was awoken that morning by people on the bunk underneath me getting a little physical (Ali, you would have been disgusted). As a result the top bunk was swaying all over the place.

Myself, Craig and Eoin arrived at the Gabba to the sound of a kiwi wicket falling, which set the tone for the remainder of the day. A further fifteen wickets fell as both teams struggled to set an impressive target with the bat. By mid afternoon I had already had far too much to drink to be paying that close attention to what was going out on the oval, but do remember getting extremely excited at one point as a stream of Aussie batsmen came and went, much to the frustration of the local support. Craig and I were both left particularly disappointed by the standard of home support to be honest, with wit and humour in short supply throughout the two days play we attended. As birthdays go this was certainly one of the better ones I have enjoyed though, and can I also use this opportunity to thank everyone who contacted me in one way or another to wish me a happy birthday.

Having spent two days at the cricket without seeing much else of Brisbane on this visit, I thought I would use my final morning to have a wander around and then meet Vanessa for a spot of lunch and an afternoon beer. This proved to be a great decision as, following the New Zealand's collapse the test match was over by the morning of day 4. As a result I was provided with my latest ‘cricketer stalking’ opportunity, when Brett Lee wandered into the bar I was eating lunch in. Clearly I wasn’t going to miss this latest opportunity, so here we are together.

Then all I had to contend with was a 17-hour bus journey back to Sydney. These days I can handle long journeys, so 17 hours didn’t bother me (apart from a brief moment when I thought I had lost my ipod), but what did annoy me was the fact that the bus driver, Ray, decided to put a Lindsay Lohan film on soon after leaving. In the words of my former housemate Bridget; “Why, why would he do that?!”.

Well, that’s the last week sorted. But what about the previous three months? This could take me a moment to search my memory. Let me see, what stands out as a highlight over the last few months?

Oh, there was the man who told me to "F**k off back to Pommyland" after I gave him a wrong phone number when he rang up at work and wanted to speak to someone who could fix his computer. As I said to dad, it's good to know that I am having an impact on the lives of ordinary Australians.Right, I’ve remembered something else that doesn’t involve me being verbally abused (though I think I do have other examples of that too).

Way back in September a number of the people I have met in a variety of countries since I left home decided that we needed a weekend of drinking wine. So, we all piled into a mini-bus and headed to the Hunter Valley, where much of the local Sydney wines are produced. We began drinking at 10.30am and if I remember rightly by 11am we had managed to offend at least one of the winery workers with a rather risque topic of conversation. From there the frivolity only increased.... I mean just look at the sense of excitement on Chris's face. I haven't seen a German that excited since I saw Boris Becker walking into a cloakroom at a restaurant a few years ago. Unlike Boris's antics, our fun lasted all day though...well, at least until we ran out of alcohol on the way home and fell asleep.

Having been told by various people that Australia's capital city Canberra, was a waste of time and not to be visited for any reason, I decided to see if this was the case. On a very pleasant Sunday morning Pish and I headed off in her car, which looks very similar to Scott's first car in ‘Neighbours’. En route I was lucky enough to see the latest in a long line of Australian ‘big things' that litter the roads along the East Coast. I added 'The Big Merino', a 15 metre tall concrete sheep, to the ‘Big Prawn’, ‘Big Golf Ball’ and ‘Big Rock’ that I had already seen earlier in the year.

On arriving In Canberra I headed straight to Parliament House, a modern building built into a hill, where I enjoyed the second best guided tour of my entire trip so far. I also took the opportunity to steal some expensive toilet roll. Feel free to tell Kevin Rudd, but to be honest, what with the impending melt down of the world and him apologising to everyone, I think he has bigger fish to fry. Overall I was pleased to have seen Canberra, but wouldn’t really recommend anyone going for longer than a day.
The second weekend of October saw me make another visit to Melbourne, this time for the Melbourne half marathon. I was happy with my time of 1 hour 35 minutes, but was more impressed with running onto the hallowed turf of the MCG where the finishing line was located. To celebrate Ebony put together a rather tasty Aussie meat barbecue, which featured Crocodile and Kangaroo.

When Craig arrived in Australia he came and crashed at my house in Sydney for a week or so. I used the opportunity to show off some of the finer spots of what is a picturesque city, but on one occasion this ended in us receiving something of a shock. After enjoying a cracking fish and chip lunch, we decided to head off for a walk around the local coastline. This ended with us unsuspectingly wandering into a cottaging hotspot, where various men were, well, pleasuring each other. We suddenly realised that we should probably leave quickly, but found we were slightly lost, so spent much of the following 15 minutes trying not to make eye contact with anyone. This did not stop one small Chinese gentleman from following us though, as I suspect he may have thought we were easy prey. Looking back now I wonder how we did not realise where we were going, especially as that part of the coastline is named ‘Georges head’.

Before leaving Sydney I decided to get a few friends together for a bowling afternoon at Petersham bowling club. Sadly I came out on the loosing team after Ellie disregarded the rules by not placing one of feet on the bowling mat for numerous bowls. I’m not bitter though, you know, I’ve just let it go, I’m not letting it bother me. Luckily she made it up to me the following day by cooking a cracking Sunday roast and the proceeded to organise a scone-fest at work on my final day, complete with a range of jams and cream.

Now there have been a few requests that I fill you in on my future plans. At present I am in Sydney until mid-December. Then I leave Australia and head back to New Zealand to catch up with Dec, Giles and Ebbo for some Christmas and New Year fun. Then it is back to Australia in mid-January for a trip around the outback and the Aussie Open, before I fly to Tokyo at the start of February. From there I then intend to make my way home.

Thanks to everyone who has, or is still to let me sleep on their floor/spare bed over the coming days and weeks. I appreciate it.

Right, I'm busy putting Christmas decorations up at the moment, so need to get back to that.

Bye for now.

Vinny/Ian

P.S. For everyone interested in finding out who was responsible for plop-gate, the huge poo that blocked the toilet at the Salt Flats last year, then my sources informed me that the perpetrator was none other than Michelle Cooke.

A few observations:
Without a doubt the funniest piece of graffiti I have seen in years, spotted at Melbourne airport. I mean it was always going to be hard to top number 1, but I feel 'okay' is a bit harsh.

Entry 15: Sydney

Hello again everyone.

Well, following more badgering (mainly from the same 3 people…you all know who you are) the time has come for another update on the life of me.

My weekdays continue to be dedicated to earning money (don’t worry, I’ve not turned into a total mercenary…more just a desperate soul) in order to continue my adventures later in the year. Don’t be fooled into thinking that work itself is not an adventure though, as I arrive into the office every morning waiting for some of Australia’s most stupid citizens to call, which has become a cultural experience in itself. I think my two favourites so far have been the lad who, after I asked him what his name and address were, replied: “Hold on, I’ll just ask my mum”, not to mention the man who, when using his own brand of the phonetic alphabet to spell his name said to me: “I…I, for England”. At that point if I remember rightly I shed a tear of blood after stabbing myself with a stapler. It’s nice to know that Britain doesn’t hold a monopoly on the brain dead isn’t it?

Anyway, “What have you been doing with your free time Vinny/Ian?” I can hear some of you ask….well, those of you who haven’t already given up and gone back to ‘Facebook’ or ‘Youtube’. Well, let me think.

Several weekends ago I seem to remember heading over to the Olympic Stadium here in Sydney (ANZ Stadium/Homebush) for my third AFL game. My team, Collingwood, were in town facing the Sydney Swans, and with tickets available for $22 a piece it seemed almost rude to not attend. The game was reasonably eventful, with Collingwood victorious. The high point was definitely the moment Barry Hall (recently back from a 7 match suspension for punching Brent Staker in the face and breaking his jaw) decided he still had some pent up aggression and thrusted the back of his elbow in the direction of Collingwood defender Shane Wakelin’s head. Here is the now token picture of me standing in a sports stadium whilst action is going on in the background, and further down I have included another one, though in that one I am at the SCG, after I bagged myself a pair of free tickets to another Swans game a few weeks later. The game at the SCG proved to be a little more exciting, and came as close to recreating the atmosphere of an English sporting event as I have experienced since arriving in Australia.

The following day I headed down to ‘The Rocks’ for the annual coffee festival. This certainly brought out lots of tourists and locals, so I spent much of the time trying to fight through the crowds in order to sample a tasty caffeine hit. All I got my hands on was a standard long black though, as I seemed to find myself being drawn to the food stands instead (anyone who has spent longer than 2 minutes with me in the last 12 months will not be surprised by this revelation).

Now, along with catching up with friends, the main reason for my attending the coffee festival had been to drink enough coffee to ensure that I could stay awake for a further 15 hours or so, in order to watch the Wimbledon men’s final. Shortly before it began my hopes of a quick final and a few hours sleep took a knock when I rang home to get a weather report. “Well, it’s raining in Derby” was not the response I hoped for from mum, but hoped that perhaps the rain in Derby might mean it was not over London. The match finally got under way on this side of the globe at around 11.30pm, and after sitting through the opening set I had to admit defeat and retire to my bed in the hope that rain would shortly stop play, leading to the rescheduling of the match to the following day. Sadly, as we all know, this did not happen, and the next morning I awoke to statements such as this:

“The men's 2008 Wimbledon final on Sunday is already being talked about as one of the best tennis matches, if not sporting encounters, in history.”

This confirmed my feeling that, although I am enjoying living in Australia, that fact that events such as this and Premiership football are played whilst I am sleeping is testing my patience…to be honest I would go as far to say this pushed me fairly close to breaking point, well what I thought was my breaking point (‘Channel 7’ have managed to push me even further during the Olympics, but I’ll get onto that later).

On the plus side, having sport on whilst I’m asleep means I don’t have to subject myself to watching 11 ludicrously paid footballers with 3 lions on there shirts, doing what appears to be impersonations of Benny Hill (just replace the scantily clad lady for a football). After his fantastic start to the season it made sense that Fabio Capello wouldn’t be picking Gabriel Agbonlahor for his latest squad (well what need would he have for the quickest player in the league in the goal scoring form of his life I hear you ask?), plumping instead for the Arsenal bench warmer and the striker with the record of 5 goals in 45 appearances…hold on, make that 46 now. Haven’t we been here before?….more than once.

Anyway, enough of this, lets get back to Sydney.

Half way through July the city was invaded by hundreds of thousands of tourists for World Youth Day. ‘WYD08’ as it was branded in much of the advertising literature, appeared to be a money making scheme organised by the Catholic Church, which resulted in the city being flooded with badly dressed pilgrims. The event itself ended with a huge Mass hosted by the Pope himself, for which tickets were available at a bargain basement $135 each. How much of this the Pope got as an appearance fee I don’t know.
The reason I mention this is that one of the events organised to keep the masses happy saw the closure of the Sydney Harbour Bridge to traffic, meaning that people were able to just wander over without fear of being mowed down by a ‘Holden’ Ute. As this event was free, and it appeared that you didn’t need to be an official pilgrim to take part, I headed down with my friends Laurence and Carrie and enjoyed a wander over the bridge on what was a delightfully warm winter afternoon.

This good weather continued for the next few weekends, which was lucky as Ebony and her friends headed my way for a weekend break/drunken session. This meant I finally got to meet Ebbo’s cousin, none other than Michelle Scully from Neighbours. Michelle, or Kate as she likes to be known (these stars with their demands), doesn’t like talking about Neighbours, so I was on strict instructions to adhere to a ‘NO NEIGHBOURS TALK’ rule. I was cool and calm throughout, not once finding myself just staring at her wondering if she sees much of Flick these days. After meeting with them at 10.30am (at which point they were necking Bloody Mary’s) we then worked our way around various bars, before I bailed out mid-afternoon. I think they ended up back at there hotel at some point the following week.

With the Olympics on the horizon I had cleared room in my schedule over next few weekends so I could do nothing but watch the quest for gold.

Now, I had been told before the games that the coverage would be extremely Aussie focused, which didn’t surprise me, as the BBC can be fairly biased during events such as this. What I didn’t expect was all round incompetence on behalf of ‘Channel 7’ (the station that screens Olympic coverage over here). Here is a list of my major issues:
1) Thanks to the American audience the swimming finals began here at midday each day. This meant that a lot of people were at work whilst they were being screened, so you would think that they would show highlights of the major events to ensure everyone got a chance to see them. This highlight show was shown each day I am told, at around 5 o’clock, when most people are still at work.
2) With so much to show ‘Channel 7’ found it rather tricky to decide what to show and when. As a result they would normally screen 2 minutes of something, then hop to something else, then flick back to the event they had been showing (by which point it most certainly was not live), before then realizing that there must be an Australian coming 17th in something, and assuming that the nation would much rather watch that instead.
3) The need to give every sporting team a nickname. I initially found this to be quite endearing, but that soon ended. Can’t you just call them the Women’s Softball team?! Or, better still, don’t even bother showing the sport and let me see Michael Phelps win a gold medal in the greatest swimming relay in history instead!
4) Punditry/Commentary. No punditry whatsoever, and talk about the scraping the bottom of the barrel for commentators. Having to listen to Raileen someone or other (who I think came third in her school sports day 50 metre dash in 1952) took a little of the shine off Usain Bolt’s record breaking exploits.
5) Adverts. I would wholeheartedly support a boycott of any company that advertises actually during a sporting event…not at half-time or after the event, but during. If someone were to tell me tomorrow that ‘Red Rooster’ had gone bankrupt then I would probably celebrate it like I had won gold.

Now, following our fine performance over the last 2 weeks I thought some of you might be in need of a reminder that there were a few loosers out there in Beijing. Here were my favourites:

1) The Australian commentator who confidently told me that Louis Smith did not stand a chance of winning a medal following his Pommel Horse routine, just before he was inserted into the silver medal position. He went on to claim Bronze.
2) The weightlifter who couldn’t grip the weight with his right hand, leading to his elimination without performing a lift. This would be bad enough, were it not for the fact that he is Colombian, and if I remember rightly they don’t carry a great deal of sympathy over there for sporting failure…just ask Andreas Escobar.
3) Anyone involved the organistation of any kind of ceremony at London 2012.
4) Grant Hackett, the only Australian I actually wanted to win a Gold medal. Sorry Grant, it looks like I might have brought some of the English football teams luck along in supporting you.

Amidst all of the hype surrounding the British success in Beijing I think a small sporting success over here may have been missed by most major media providers back home.
Just 2 days into the Olympics I ran in the annual ‘City to Surf run’, a 14km jog through the streets of Sydney, ending at Bondi Beach. Hoping for a sub-1 hour performance, I sadly came in at the 64 minute mark, however there were extenuating circumstances. As I hadn’t participated in last years run I was not able to start in the top 2 groups, and due to my lateness in registering I was only able to get a position in the final group. This meant that several thousand people started ahead of me who decided to crawl the 14km (slight exaggeration there), and so I spent most of the race slaloming grandmas and simpletons who signed up to start in the third group, even though the entry form clearly stated that if you intended to walk then the final group would be the best bet for you.

Another excuse there courtesy of the Alex Ferguson book of ‘there is always someone else to blame’.

And so, I think that brings me up to date.

I’ll try not to make it too long before my next entry…purely for the fact that this has taken me far too many lunch breaks to write this.

Take it easy.

Vinny/Ian

A few observations:

Tea bags over here are a disgrace. The Aussie made ones lack one slightly important feature….taste. As a result I’m buying the fine British brands, but you only have to pour the water onto them in a slightly powerful motion and they rip, leaving me with a mouthful of loose tea leaves.

The Sydney sky. On a sunny day this would definitely be my favourite feature of Sydney. The richness of the blue is breathtaking.

Does anyone else think that Rebecca Adlington looks like a polar bear?

There is a town called Vincent in Queensland!

Oh, and one more thing. Congratulations to Ellie and Tim for getting married. I know Ellie has been angling for a mention in ‘I’m glad it’s me and not you’ for a while now, so didn’t want to disappoint.

This month Ian was clothed by the ‘cast offs’ collection by Declan Gilbert.

Entry 14: Newcastle, Bulladelah, Sydney

Hello everyone.

Well I find myself in Sydney again after something of a change of plans.

From Melbourne I headed to Newcastle in order to catch up with Dools before he headed off to Ghana. A rather heavy night followed, which resulted in me spending a little longer in Newcastle than I expected, sleeping off a hangover.

You may remember that the last time you heard from me I was about to head off to work on a holiday resort. Well, that turned into a farce after I arrived (without a hangover might I add) to be told that there was not much work available, having been told on 5 occasions by the manager that there was plenty of work. This was a shame as the chalet I had been given sat on the banks of the Myall Lakes and had an incredible view.

After an evening of being angry and pacing a lot I decided that this was merely an opportunity to try pastures new. Sadly I had no money, so visiting pastures new was not an option.

The next morning I awoke early and hitched my way back down to Sydney (thanks to a very nice man called Tom who gave me a lift) as I knew there was a floor here for me to doss on whilst I worked out what to do next. Luckily Chris and David (2 German friends who I met when I was first in Sydney) let me stay with them back in the ‘freaks circus’ that is Kings Cross.

Over the next few days I frantically applied for as many jobs as possible in the hope that sooner or later someone might feel the need to employ a POM. This was a desperate period and reminded me of when I first left university and thought that in order to get a job I might need to sell my soul. One group interview I attended was full of people who said things like “I’m passionate about finance” and “I live for selling”. Now, if the role I had been going for was that of CEO at ‘Microsoft’ then I would have expected such claims, but this was a simple cold calling job, trying to sell people something that they probably didn’t need, the details of which I can’t even remember now. I actually considered running out of the room we were in, but annoyingly was at the back and would have caused too much commotion in doing so.

A week later I found myself in employment, having been hired by a company called the ‘CIT Group’. In fact I ended up being offered 3 jobs on the same day. The deal breaker for me when choosing which job to accept was the hours. This job allows me to start at 8.30 and finish at 5. This is perfect as it allows me to watch ‘Neighbours’ (screened between 6.30 and 7 here) and also start training with Hexham’s top of the table football team, Dunbar Rovers. I basically just answer the phone and complete admin work in the office, which pays me enough to eat and keep a roof over my head.

The first week of work saw me re-united with an old friend from South America. That’s right, diarrhea came back to haunt me yet again after a late night chicken burger at the back end of an evening tripping the light fantastic on Oxford Street, ironically celebrating my introduction back into the world of work. As a result I spent the first few days in my new job regularly darting off to the toilet. I think people now just assume that I drink a lot of water.

After finding work the next job on my ‘to do list’, was to find somewhere to live. At this point I had briefly moved back to Bondi to live with Eoin, Naomi and Terrence, 3 of the Irish who had a spare bed in their flat. After viewing various houses and flats I finally came across a house just a 10 minute walk away from work.

The house is populated with 3 Aussies, Brigette, Kate and Nick, who are all fair-dinkum and seem to be the only Australians in Australia who like ‘Neighbours’, which went down very well with me when viewing the house. I have a small granny flat type room in the garden, complete with a double bed, which is a real luxury now.

After some lovely autumn like weather when I first returned, Sydney has now gone back to what seems to be its default weather setting, rain. The rain actually arrived the day I moved into my new place, which is particularly annoying as I have to go outside in order to get to my bedroom, so seem to be getting wet far too much at the moment.

Over the last week or so my sleep patterns have gone to pot in an attempt to follow the football back in Europe. SBS (the terrestrial broadcaster that screens games in Oz) only has 8 live games, of which only the final is a knockout game. This means that if I want to watch any of the quarter or semi finals then I am going to have to find a pub that is open at 4.30am and has Setanta sports. Where there is a will there is a way! This huge time gap has made to start to worry about what might happen if Australia were to host the 2018 World Cup. Mental note: ‘If that happens come back here in 2018’.

So far I have managed to see every screened game apart from one, and that happened to be the game of the tournament so far, Czech Republic versus Turkey. Sods law or what! I did manage to see the Dutch destroy the French though, which brought a smile to my face. Smugness is hardly a luxury I can't afford though bearing in mind the mess we are in.

A few observations:

Football can mean a variety of sports here, including Aussie Rules and Rugby League and Rugby Union, but strangely never football, which they refer to using the S word. Slightly backward if you ask me.

The number of advert breaks during shows in this country is breathtaking. Somehow they actually manage to fit 3 (yes THREE) advert breaks into one episode of ‘Neighbours’.

Most English/Irish people who have spent longer than 3 months here appear to have turned into absolute wimps and seem to think that anything under 20 degrees is cold. Good luck if any of you ever plan to go home.
Hexham, you aren’t included in that statement.

Most adverts seem to feature actors and actresses who used to be in ‘Neighbours’ and have now fallen on harder times.

For a country that prides itself on its ‘fair-dinkum Aussie bloke’ culture, a lot of the men seem to have very girly names. For example, last week at work I spoke to men called Kerry, Stacey and Lindsay.

Australia is still making 'Gladiators'. Fantastic!

Tipex is called liquid paper.

Oh yeah, you may have been wandering why, on my month in Melbourne I didn’t head to the ‘Neighbours’ set. Well, when Dec had been living in Melbourne he had waited until I arrived to visit ‘Ramsey Street’, so bearing this in mind I felt it only fair that I wait for him to return before I head ‘Erinsborough’ way.

I have an email address at work now that I am checking constantly between the hours of 8.30 and 17.00 (23.30 and 8.00 in England) Monday to Friday, so can be contacted via this address: ian.vincent@cit.com.

And just one more thing. It would appear that more babies are being born back home, so this time can I congratulate Carly and Danny who had a baby last week and have called it Tom.

Entry 13: Melbourne

G’day.

Well, I’ve been mincing around Melbourne for about 3 weeks now and I love it. Sorry Sydney, but those people who told me that you were a poor relation to Melbourne were right, it beats the pants off you, and not just because it hasn’t spent the last 3 weeks raining.

I arrived and was met at the airport by Ebony (after a brief period in which I thought we were at different airports as we couldn’t find one another) whose house I have been loitering in since. I awoke early on my first morning and spent much of my first day wandering around trying to find the Liverpool v Arsenal game, only to find later that it had been on at Ebony’s flat all along. That did slightly annoy me to be honest, especially when I got to see the highlights and realised it had been a classic, but it did give me the perfect chance to experience the empty streets of early morning Melbourne.

While I’m on football I hope everyone saw Villa destroy Birmingham last weekend. Biggest derby win since 1988 I do believe. It had me smiling all week.

It took me all of 24 hours to make my first pilgrimage to the Melbourne Cricket Ground, or ‘the G’ as it’s referred to by locals. The tour of the ground takes about an hour and a half and is fantastic. Despite the fact that the stadium has been developed over time it still retains much of its history, remembering past occasions and sporting greats with countless mementoes scattered around the whole complex. Underneath the ground is the National Sports Museum, which is easily the best museum I have ever been in. Slightly amateurishly I only gave myself 2 hours in the museum though, and as a result barely managed to see a quarter of the exhibits, so at some point I am going to have to go back for another visit.

The following day I ventured into St. Kilda - an area of the city renowned for cafes and restaurants – and Brunswick Street. Both area’s have a bohemian feel and are certainly places I think I’ll come back to when I return to Melbourne later in the year.

My first weekend saw me visit the G for the second time, this time to experience my first Aussie rules football match. Now, before arriving I had given the subject of which team I was going to support a fair bit of thought, and had decided that as Paul Collingwood was my favourite England cricketer it seemed only right that I support the team Collingwood. After watching the news I discovered that Carlton were on the brink of setting the longest loosing streak in history though, which made me think I should support them instead. Luckily the two teams were due to play that weekend, so I got myself along and decided that whoever lost the game, would be my team. Once at the game I met a nice Collingwood supporting Aussie couple who talked to me - or I talked at them, as I was slightly hung-over on the day and was rattling off chit-chat like a machine gun - who gave me a Lamington (Australian cake). As a result I warmed to Collingwood throughout the game, and as they were given something of a spanking I am now a Collingwood fan. I am told that Collingwood are generally hated by all the other teams, but I just tell people that I’m English, so am quite used to this. They are also renowned for not having won anything for quite some time, so this also provides me with a sense of familiarity.

The following Friday I then went to another game, this time between St Kilda and Essendon. This game was played at the Telstra Dome, which has a roof, which was shut, keeping the temperature at a pleasant 22 degrees.

A few days later I made the fatal mistake of drinking with the Irish. I should have learnt my lesson by now, but it just doesn’t seem to sink in. Anyway, it started as a simple dinner invitation at Paul and Michelle’s and ended with me waking up at around 6 in the morning having passed out on their sofa. I got very little done over the next few days.

My original plan was to leave Melbourne in mid-April as I have managed to sort some work at an eco-resort in New South Wales over the winter. I decided to stick around for another week in order to attend the Anzac Day service at the Shrine of Remembrance. April 25th is the day Australia remembers the sacrifice of those who died in war, the First World War and all other wars since. The day began at 4.30am when 40,000 people attended the early morning service. This was one of the most impressive spectacles I have experienced in Australia since I arrived and it struck me how the sacrifices that past Australians have made seems to resonate stronger with the Australian youth than with their British counterparts.

Focus then turns to the commemorative march through the city, before the day’s big game, Collingwood v Essendon. The Anzac Day game only began in 1995, but is as much a part of life here now as the FA Cup final is at home. This finally gave me a chance to see Collingwood win, as they ran riot, winning by 73 points.

My last Sunday in Melbourne provided me with my first home cooked roast dinner since I left Philadelphia in August. It was possibly one of the best I have ever tasted, especially as it contained what has become something of a favourite of mine, roasted parsnips. Thanks to Ebony’s mum and her boyfriend Jai – who has made sure that I have tasted as much of the local wine as possible - for that one. While I’m thanking people I also need to mention Michelle and Paul, who have let me doss at their flat for a few nights, not to mention Ebony and her flatmates AJ and Rob. Without you guys I’d have even less money than I do have.

Anyway, this lack of funds has finally forced my hand into getting a job. I head up to a part of New South Wales tomorrow called the Myall Lakes. I’ll be working on an eco resort, just helping out with odd jobs from what I understand. If anyone is interested this is the website: http://www.myallshores.com.au/

Right, that’s me done for another month. Take care folks.

Vinny/Ian

P.S. I know Carl and Laura occasionally read ‘I’m glad it’s me and not you’, so I just thought I’d use it to congratulate them on the new addition to the family, Tobin Bailey-Hill.

A few observations:

Australia has without a doubt the largest portion of attractive ladies in the world. I’m sorry ladies back home, but it’s not just my opinion, it’s a fact.

Most people in Melbourne seem to have huge HD televisions and extremely comfortable corner sofas.

In Aussie rules each team has 2 ‘runners’. These are men - normally middle aged and slightly rotund - who run onto the oval during play to give tactical information to players. They do this dressed in fluorescent yellow outfits and are one of the funniest features of sport I have ever seen.

A man wearing roller-skates, being pulled down one of the busiest streets in Melbourne by 2 dogs. Sadly I didn’t have time to get my camera out, but believe me when I say it was quite a sight.

Entry 12: Sydney, Auckland, Hamilton, Raglan, Rotorua, Wellington, Napier, Christchuch, Queenstown

Hello again.

Well, following my tirade at the end of my last blog regarding the performance of the English cricket team they seem to have taken heed of my criticism and overturned the 1-0 deficit, to win the series with New Zealand 2-1. Perhaps they are readers of 'I'm glad it's me and not you!' and were all distraught at the thought of letting me down....you never know.

Having arrived in New Zealand only planning to attend the first test match I soon changed my plans upon discovering that a 5 day pass to a test match came to NZ$70 (£28). This resulted in me becoming what I could only describe as a 'cricket groupie', hassling and bothering celebrities of the world game in a quest for photographs, signatures and a word or two. Assisting me on this quest were Giles and a friend we made along the way called Ryan. Together we are now known in the cricket world as cricket stalkers. I heard they have been passing our mug shots around in India in the build up to the IPL, along with the instructions to 'shoot on sight'.

Before heading off to New Zealand my final weekend in Sydney saw me venturing out to the cities annual Mardi Gra celebrations. People kept telling me that Sydney is now the gay capital of the world, after apparently surpassing San Francisco last year, so as you can imagine it was quite an evening. Thousands of people piled onto the streets of Sydney to watch the parade, which I think lasted for around 4 hours. That's one hell of a lot of campness.

Upon arriving in Auckland, where it was raining (at this point I was worried my luck with rain had followed me to New Zealand), Giles and I rented a car (thankfully a lot more economical than the Ford Falcon in Sydney) and headed to Hamilton. At this point can I just recommend that if anyone ever travels to New Zealand then do not waste any money on a curry, they are all rubbish. Former England captain Nasser Hussain was in the first curry house we ventured into, so the night wasn't a total waste. We didn't manage to find out what Nasser thought of the curry, but I'm fairly certain he would have eaten elsewhere for the remainder of the test match.

After spending our first night in a car park we managed to find a camp site to spend the rest of the week in, and then headed to the first days play. Luckily the weather on the north island was fantastic, which helped to soften the blow of witnessing a pathetic English performance over the next 5 days. Giles was quick to offer his thoughts on how the match had played out.
Fortunately on the final morning of the test we ran into the outspoken Geoffrey Boycott. The ‘lesser spotted Boycott’, as we had come to know him due to his crafty ability to avoid attention, was actually quite happy to sign and pose. I invited him around to Chez Vincent on my return to England for Sunday lunch, though I couldn’t give him an exact date on when that would be.

In a bid to erase the memories of the cricket from our minds we then spent a night in Raglan, a delightful town on the west coast known for being something of a haven for surfers. This gave me another chance to battle waves, and sure enough after being spun around by the washing machine that is the Tasman Sea for an hour and a half I was suitably exhausted, having failed to stand up on the board once.

Luckily the Wellington test match went a little more to plan and on the final day, following Ryan Sidebottom’s catch to secure the win, we were lucky enough to wander onto the oval and even bowled a couple of balls on the test wicket just hours after the match had finished. A brief meeting with Kevin Pietersen - in which I made a joke which went down like a lead balloon – and Ryan Sidebottom followed to make a fantastic day even better.

Away from the cricket I would say that Wellington was the nicest of the cities I’ve visited in New Zealand. Sadly that can’t be said for its rugby ground, the Westpac stadium (aka the cake tin), which is probably the blandest sporting arena I have ever seen. On the plus side security at the stadium is dreadful, meaning I managed to walk straight onto the pitch, before then giving myself a little tour of the changing rooms and various other internal workings.

A slight mix up with dates (not the first time since leaving home I must admit) meant that I arrived in Napier for the final test 2 days early. This proved to be perfect for my cricketing meet and greet tour though, allowing me to complete my collection of photos and signatures with the team at a net session. Sadly this did mean that I missed the final day of the series as England wrapped things up. I couldn’t complain too much though, after seeing 14 of the 15 days of test cricket on offer. Overall I think watching test cricket is possibly the best life anyone can live. If I could do it full time then I think my life would be fairly close to being complete. I think my highlight came when Jonathan Agnew read out a text I had sent into the New Zealand version of Test Match Special, inviting him to share a load of washing with me after he ran out of clean briefs. The invite was turned down.

Christchuch was my next stop on my tour of New Zealand, where I was able to enjoy some free accommodation with Giles. In order to see a little of the surrounding area we rented a car to take a trip to the Banks Peninsular and Akaroa. Having had a rather heavy evening the night before, the first major problem that arose was opening the boot of the car. After several minutes of scratching our heads, reading the manual and calling the rental company, Giles’s housemate Kelly cracked the code, meaning we were able to take belongings with us on the road trip. In the end it was all worth it when I witnessed possibly the most impressive sunset I have seen so far on my travels.

Next up came Queenstown, the adventure capital of New Zealand, if not the world. Having heard a lot about riverboarding I was intent on making sure that was one activity to tick off on my ‘to do’ list. It didn’t quite go as planned though, and after a slight problem at the first set of rapids I pulled an absolute ‘Swifty’ and was quickly given the tag of safety hazard, resulting in me having to spend the rest of the course attached to a guide who wouldn’t let me go for fear of not seeing me again. It was slightly embarrasing I've got to admit.

The other worrying factor to hit me in Queenstown was the temperature. For this first time since I left Ushuaia at the end of October I felt cold, and suddenly I realised that the last few months have turned me into a wimp. The first sign of a chill and I retreated straight to my thermals. The next few months could be uncomfortable unless I toughen up quickly.

Anyway, I'm off to Australia again on Tuesday, so my next entry might involve a visit to a certain street in Erinsborough.

Ciao.

Vinny/Ian

A few observations:

Crime in New Zealand seems pretty non-existent, so the majority of the time the news is just a round up of car crashes that have happened that day.

One way they keep the crime level down is by making sure all knives are blunt. I know this as I haven’t been able to cook with a sharp set of blades since I arrived in the country.

Germans are the loudest nationality on Earth.

Entry 11: Sydney

Hello again.

Good news people. I no longer live in a youth hostel. This may not mean a great deal to you, but to me it is right up there with Steve McClaren and his umbrella leaving Soho Square for the last time.

I am currently living in Bondi, just a stones throw from the beach. The weather actually cleared up for about a week when I first moved in, so for that week I was able to head staright to the beach after work each night.

Sadly, moving aside, the last few weeks have been possibly the dullest period since I left home in August. It has pretty much involved me sweeping, lifting, tidying, hammering, being shouted at in a range of languages (though mainly Persian) and wishing I was anywhere but work. I’m guessing most of you know how I feel…..apart from the being ordered around in Persian part.

After six months of doing as little as possible being thrown back into the world of work has been quite a shock to my system. After the feast has come the famine, and I have only allowed myself 2 days off this month in order to pay for my upcoming fun in New Zealand. I’ve been working ‘like a Japanese prisoner of war’ as Alan Partridge would say.

As I have been doing very little in the way of exciting exploits I thought I’d give you a run down on my working situation, which to be honest, is like nothing I have experienced before. The house I am helping renovate is in Bondi and has an incredible view of the city, Harbour Bridge and Opera House from the first floor.

My boss (an Iranian Swede) doesn’t have the greatest command of English, so I spend a large part of my day telling him what his tools are called. His favoured terms of description when asking me to fetch a particular item are generally ‘that’, ‘the yellow one’ and ‘Michael Jackson’. I think my favourite quote from him came earlier this week, when, after asking me to look for a Stanley Knife, he told me to ‘not look for my tools like that, as it makes me nervous’. For the rest of the day I only allowed myself to use my sense of smell when looking for whatever piece of equipment was needed.

The jobs I generally get given are usually as pointless as the one given to the man who was installed as Head Deckchair Floorplanner on the titanic ten minutes after the cry ‘iceberg ahead!’ had been heard.

Last Monday much of the day was spent taking floor boards from the front of the house up to the first floor, before the owner came round and decided he didn’t like them after all. I then took them downstairs and lay them back in the position they were in originally in so they could be returned to the supplier. Then the following day I was given the job of taking them all back up to the first floor again. Then the day after that I moved them back to the ground floor, but to the back of the house this time.

On the positive side these pointless tasks do allow me to get paid at the end of each week, so I can’t grumble too much.

Anyway, Friday was my last day, so if anyone needs some work there is a job going. The hours are long and the pay is bad, but if you’re after a combination of desperation, bewilderment and hilarity then it might be right up your street.

To relieve the craziness of work I have made sure that I have had lots of fun on my 2 days off this month.

On day off 1 I hit the road and took a trip to Palm Beach. Those of you not familiar with Sydney and it’s surrounding beaches, Palm Beach is the beach used in Home and Away. To be honest I expected more, but Home and Away is no Neighbours, so I wasn’t too upset by this.

Day off 2 saw me take a visit to my first sporting event in Australia, the A-League Grand Final at the Sydney Football Ground. The A-League is the Australian football league, and the final happened to be in Sydney, so Hexham and myself headed down and found a local tout to purchase some tickets from to witness the Newcastle United Jets take on the Central Coast Mariners.

At this point can I just apologise to Hexham and his good lady, Louise, for forgetting to mention them in my last blog entry. After returning from the coast they kindly put me up for several nights at their house in what Hexham tells me is the second wealthiest suburb in Australia. I can vouch for this, as whenever I told people where I was staying during that period I would always be greeted with a ‘ooohhhhh!!!!!’.

WARNING: Extended football chat follows. Anyway, the grand final is one of those farcical affairs in which a league championship is played, but after each team has played a home and away fixture against each representative in the league, it is decided that the team with the most number of points isn’t actually the best team, so they must have a one off game to decide who is the can be crowned the champions. It’s essentially like the Premiership and the FA Cup rolled into one. The top 4 teams then face-off, though neither Hexham or myself can’t quite work out what the rules of this affair are, as one team can loose, but still make it to the grand final.

Hexham was pleased that we were sitting in the Newcastle United stand, and to finally end his lifelong wait for Newcastle to lift a trophy, when Mark Bridge scored the only goal of the game. Sadly for him it was the Newcastle of New South Wales and not his beloved Magpies that were crowned champions though.

A few observations:

In Australia they don't have a lower denomination coin than a 5 cent piece, yet they continue to price items at .99 cents. How does that work?

John Leslie, the disgraced Blue Peter presenter must live in Sydney now as I followed him around a shopping centre one day.

p.s. I wrote this blog entry over a week ago, but didn't have an opportunity to add to the interweb. I am now actually in New Zealand and will be giving you my thoughts on the incompetent fools posing as the English cricket team in due time.

Ciao.