But they ain't no smiles.
Monday 29 December 2008
Sunday 28 December 2008
If you want a trailer load, Ring.
A few weeks ago I walked about five miles down this road and all I saw was advertisement after advertisement.
Christmas, sun, sunburn etc.
Growing up in England you are made to believe Christmas is about the 0.03 % chance it's going to snow, shocking TV, family, and shocking TV. I have absolutely no problem with that, it's the 25th of December that I know and love, it just meant this years festivities could not have been more different.
Waking up in your Dads ex-wifes place is odd sure, so is a morning swim at Bondi. Being surrounded by hundreds of swimmers on the big day is definately not normal for a person conditioned to seeing nobody but family and close friends. I'm still undecided about this, but I have to say if I was going to swim again on Christmas day it would have to be at a slightly quieter location. The River Wey Anyone?
The afternoon gave way to a routine I could get used to rather more easily. Beer, food, rooftop, champagne, beer, food, beer, rooftop, food, wine, champagne, food, rooftop. Oh and sun, loads of sun. In fact the only difference from the norm was the sun. And I like sun.
The evening went that little bit further and all I'm going to say is that when I should have been watching Braveheart or playing Cranium I was in fact dancing to some god awful trance with a group of very happy, loving individuals who were on the whole twice my age or more. An enlightening experience, but maybe next year I'll be more up for drizzle and Beethoven like the good old days. Below is a picture of my two favourite Australians and a chihuahua, and the only other ex-pat on the roof. Is that what five Christmas's in Australia does to us lot?
Waking up in your Dads ex-wifes place is odd sure, so is a morning swim at Bondi. Being surrounded by hundreds of swimmers on the big day is definately not normal for a person conditioned to seeing nobody but family and close friends. I'm still undecided about this, but I have to say if I was going to swim again on Christmas day it would have to be at a slightly quieter location. The River Wey Anyone?
The afternoon gave way to a routine I could get used to rather more easily. Beer, food, rooftop, champagne, beer, food, beer, rooftop, food, wine, champagne, food, rooftop. Oh and sun, loads of sun. In fact the only difference from the norm was the sun. And I like sun.
The evening went that little bit further and all I'm going to say is that when I should have been watching Braveheart or playing Cranium I was in fact dancing to some god awful trance with a group of very happy, loving individuals who were on the whole twice my age or more. An enlightening experience, but maybe next year I'll be more up for drizzle and Beethoven like the good old days. Below is a picture of my two favourite Australians and a chihuahua, and the only other ex-pat on the roof. Is that what five Christmas's in Australia does to us lot?
Jim Jim Farm
In mid December I got a job working on a two hundred and fifty acre acre property in central rural Victoria for just under two weeks. A large bed and home cooked meals in a family home was just what the doctor ordered. I'd like to make it clear that I am now at a professional level when it comes to planting trees and mowing lawns, however as Hilary gladly pointed out with regards to my wall filling - "I'll never be a painter".
On the last night I went out and raided the strawberry patch, they were very good but it's humanely impossible that they didn't find out as I completely ruined the state of the nets covering them and gave up trying to fix it. I probably earnt a few strawberries though.
The last photo was taken at a magic moment, sat on a hill overlooking a group of kangaroos and the most clear rainbow I've ever seen. The photo doesn't do it justice, mainly because you notice the barbed wire fence before anything else. Click it! And yes, that is Robert De Niro. He's a country man now.
An actual update.
I have failed to update this with any useful information since the 11th December, this is rather shit. In my defense, my laptop charger overheated and consequently melted – locking all my wordings and photos inside of it. I’ve since learnt that technology is not to be trusted, even if it is one of those really amazing Apple computers that never crashes or breaks down or anything. So, I’m back to basics with an NHS biro I nicked off my mum and a notebook I think I may have also nicked off my mum.
Since Ze Great Ocean Road, and a hot, face swelled few days in the quite unexceptional Adelaide I swiftly jumped on a bus back to Melbourne over night. It has to be said there is something disconcerting about taking your time over eight days to travel from one city to another, only to do the return journey overnight, but Adelaide really wasn’t THAT great.
Once back in Melbourne I came to the following conclusions:
1. I am a pauper.
2. Christmas is soon.
3. Adelaide really is shit.
Between then and now I’ve worked at a farm property in Rural Victoria, stayed out in Melbourne suburbs with a local family and crashed in Fitzroy where I decided every single hostel should have hammocks instead of beds- No creaking, no tweaking, and no leaking.
I flew to Sydney on the 24th, and the following forty eight hours were very, very strange. It was always going to be odd being in Sydney for Christmas as someone who’d spent the last twenty Christmas days indoors with close family, a fire place and The Snowman on the TV. However nothing prepared me for the day itself, more to follow.
The above will be further documented when I see it fit, and I’ve got the photos organised, but be assured I’m turning over a new leaf and will be updating this far more from now onwards…
Since Ze Great Ocean Road, and a hot, face swelled few days in the quite unexceptional Adelaide I swiftly jumped on a bus back to Melbourne over night. It has to be said there is something disconcerting about taking your time over eight days to travel from one city to another, only to do the return journey overnight, but Adelaide really wasn’t THAT great.
Once back in Melbourne I came to the following conclusions:
1. I am a pauper.
2. Christmas is soon.
3. Adelaide really is shit.
Between then and now I’ve worked at a farm property in Rural Victoria, stayed out in Melbourne suburbs with a local family and crashed in Fitzroy where I decided every single hostel should have hammocks instead of beds- No creaking, no tweaking, and no leaking.
I flew to Sydney on the 24th, and the following forty eight hours were very, very strange. It was always going to be odd being in Sydney for Christmas as someone who’d spent the last twenty Christmas days indoors with close family, a fire place and The Snowman on the TV. However nothing prepared me for the day itself, more to follow.
The above will be further documented when I see it fit, and I’ve got the photos organised, but be assured I’m turning over a new leaf and will be updating this far more from now onwards…
Thursday 11 December 2008
De Schoene Ocean Strasse.
The last couple of weeks have seen me out of the cyber loop as I've been van bound for 1000 kilometres on the road from Melbourne, along the Great Ocean Road, through The Grampians and on into Southern Australia towards Adelaide. The trip was as bizarre as it's going to get when you're crammed in an Ozzy Osbourne tour van with three Germans, tinsel, party hats and a Christmas Cd taken from the front of a magazine. You know you're not at home when you're listening to "I'm Driving Home For Christmas" whilst watching endless desert, hearing a German cover version over the top and smelling your cool box fail. Sleeping on remote rocky beaches, in eucalyptus forests with koalas, on cliff tops with the most beautiful sunsets and in rain forests with messy schoolies- every night was a spectacle in it's own right.
It has to be the last day of our journey though, that was the most ridiculously out of place. In trying to find a beach for the night we drove through the rural South Australian town of Meningie where all the main streets were closed for no apparent reason. Before long we realised what we had stumbled upon, the annual Meningie Christmas parade. You can't fault them for trying, but as Europeans we found it difficult to take the thing seriously. The parade was made up of a series of hatchbacks with balloons attached, the towns ambulance draped in tinsel, an orchestra on a trailer, the wags of Meningie in their Santa frocks, about twenty kids on motorbikes and a few advertisement vehicles dragging through the twenty nine degree heat for about fifty metres. To be fair, to belittle this whilst one of the Spice Girls is probably turning on the lights back home seems harsh.
The Parade did pick up to as we decided to join it in our Ozzy van, party hats on, Christmas CD booming. It was a fine line between us completely taking the piss, but because I don't think many of Meningies population know who Ozzy Osbourne is, it went down a treat. A few hours earlier I was coming to terms with the fact that this year was never going to really feel like Christmas, but after serenading a group of festive farts from the window I could feel that seasonal spirit again.
Merry Christmas!
It has to be the last day of our journey though, that was the most ridiculously out of place. In trying to find a beach for the night we drove through the rural South Australian town of Meningie where all the main streets were closed for no apparent reason. Before long we realised what we had stumbled upon, the annual Meningie Christmas parade. You can't fault them for trying, but as Europeans we found it difficult to take the thing seriously. The parade was made up of a series of hatchbacks with balloons attached, the towns ambulance draped in tinsel, an orchestra on a trailer, the wags of Meningie in their Santa frocks, about twenty kids on motorbikes and a few advertisement vehicles dragging through the twenty nine degree heat for about fifty metres. To be fair, to belittle this whilst one of the Spice Girls is probably turning on the lights back home seems harsh.
The Parade did pick up to as we decided to join it in our Ozzy van, party hats on, Christmas CD booming. It was a fine line between us completely taking the piss, but because I don't think many of Meningies population know who Ozzy Osbourne is, it went down a treat. A few hours earlier I was coming to terms with the fact that this year was never going to really feel like Christmas, but after serenading a group of festive farts from the window I could feel that seasonal spirit again.
Merry Christmas!
Koala.
I woke up a few metres from this incredible thing a few days ago. I don't think I've ever been so in so much awe of an animal, they look like they should be in Star Wars or something. He wasn't eating chicken nuggets this time round...
Thursday 4 December 2008
Smoking is bad for you.
The Australian health authority have their heads screwed on when it comes to visual communication if you ask me.
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