Gold in the Hills

One thing about the Victorian countryside is that there is lots to get out and about and do. Touristy attractions are everywhere, just check out the Lonely Planet and see for yourself. Well OK then maybe once you get past the beaches and mountains there is just a lot of countryside. Interestingly Mad Max, The road warrior, was filmed in Victoria. I am, of course, talking about the first film, Victoria is not known for its apocalyptic scenery. Anyway if you look beyond all the above you find some gems amongst the smaller villages and towns dotted around the state. Once such gem is to be found out near Ballarat, north west of Melbourne. The town itself was one of the centre’s of the 1800’s gold rush in Australia and has a past linked with prospecting and violence. More about the violence later.

Sovereign hill is a huge outdoor live action museum celebrating all the aspects of 1850’s Australian culture at the heart of the gold rush. Features of the museum include being able to descend under ground deep into the mines and experience the feeling of being in a gold mine.

Members of the museum dress up and walk around the centre of town, bringing an air of authenticity to proceedings. The tourists for their part wander round, camera in hand, completely removing any authentic feel. Perhaps we were unlucky, the day was overcast, but there were few people present who were giving me the feeling of authentic. I am probably being a little harsh, after all there was the firing of a real oldy worldly rifle, after extensive H&S talks and a cursory check of medical certificates. The most shocked were the two goats who looked as though they were going to have a heart attack. Shops sold authentic curry flavoured pies and hand made produce including sweets, yes I did, and candles, yes she did. The biggest draw though is the gold, we saw a ingot being poured from molten gold, the guy doing this was shown on a travel program the following week and did the same thing, even telling the same lame jokes. Eventually we arrived at the panning creek, a small rivulet that contains real gold you can actually pan for. Don’t get excited here, we believe that in the morning a few sand sized grains of gold are added to the river bed for tourists to “discover” using authentic (that word features a lot in this article)methods of gold finding. Basically swirl the riverbed round in a flat wok sized pan whilst staring into the detritus to see if you can spot a microscopic glitter of gold in the bottom. If found then carefully remove said grain being very careful not to drop it back into the river, you don’t stand a chance of finding one twice. Alternatively you can pan for about five minutes before letting out a loud cry of excitement, just to see who looks. Everyone looks ,for the record, although I believe that this is frowned upon.

Even down in the mines the gold is present, well actually plaster casts of the nuggets painted gold and hidden behind impressive, if slightly overkilled, security. Who is going to steal a replica of a nugget found 150 years ago, now probably forming a part of the Australian Reserves, is an idiot but I suppose the vaults add to the authen..... I cannot do it to you.

Over the road is a gold museum showing more finds from the area, again cast in plaster and painted and also again behind impressive looking vault doors. This museum does actually hold a lot more gold and is nearly interesting but does have a groovy shop, selling gold granules, probably reclaimed from the creek next door. An experience, the real surprise though is that people actually buy membership to the town so that they can come back for more! They are so enthralled by the experience that they need more time to enjoy it! Check out the website and see what other things they offer as I really am not doing the place justice and I have heard that in the future companies will be able to sue people for blog entries so better not put it down too much. Apparently the night show is a must, and you can stay in the town hotel or even have a meal, exciting.

It does revolve around the violence I spoke of earlier, apparently Ballarat was the location where men swore an oath on Australian soil to a Flag that was not BRITISH (The bastards). High taxes and conditions for miners was the underlying cause, the flag was the southern cross (Blue with whites stars) and the men were executed in a dawn raid by those heartless British. They re-enact the wonderful spectacle at night in one of the worlds most expensive interactive displays (I made the last bit up).

Long time no write - Naughty me

I cannot believe it has been two months since I last wrote in the blog. That is a bit rubbish of me to be honest. Will improve the situation.

So what has been happening in Australia you ask? Well I have very sad news to report, St Kilda (The Saints) did not win the AFL grand final, perhaps this has contributed to my lax efforts on the blog! The Saints finally made it to the final against the other biggest team in Victoria this year, the dreaded Cats (Geelong), the two teams were number one and two in the table and both had been undefeated for 14 games when they first met. Everyone in St Kilda was hoping for the same result in this match as the previous one, St Kilda won in the final few seconds with a single goal. In order to watch the match we had selected a local bar and were firmly ensconced in said bar at 12:00 on the big day, despite the match not starting until 2pm. We had arrived even before the big screen had been set up but we were determined Saints fans and there would be no stopping us, we had the choice of where to sit (as we were the first people in the bar) and picked a select spot, not too far from the bar with good sight of the screen and access to the toilets. The day was rainy and the match turned out to be a slippery mess of football. Both sides had problems controlling the wet ball but St Kilda were winning the quarters and at each break were going into the dressing rooms ahead in points. The fans in the room, and the pub was packed for the match, were going crazy. Food was being served by the bar, freebies abound, beer was flowing and everyone was looking at the score and hoping this year would be the year St Kilda brought home the silverware. The final quarter started as the match had gone on with St Kilda maintaining a slim lead over the cats. Then in the final seconds of the quarter the cats drew even, the match went into overtime and a silence descended on the pub. It’s one of those silences where you can just tell something terrible is going to happen, like in a horror movie when the car runs out of petrol or somebody goes down into the cellar... Sure enough the cats pulled a remarkable fight-back and quickly had a goal over the saints, head bowed and were shaking when they pulled another stunner and another goal was scored. The games was over, even though the final klaxon had not been sounded we all knew that the match had been won. Both teams deserved to be in the final and this was the best final of years but in the end there could be only one winner, this year that winner was Geelong!

The mood in St Kilda that day was a little depressing to say the least but we are all convinced that next years flag will be ours.

Another thing that happened around this time was the Melbourne Royal Show. This is a agricultural show where farmers and producers around Victoria get to show off their wares and promote what they are doing in Victoria. The highlight of the show is the showbags which are stuffed full of sweets and simple toys. Children of all ages spend days selecting which bags they wish to buy on the day and as you walk round all you can see are stalls selling the bags, they apparently represent value for money although I was not sure who had done the valuing. Of course, wishing to get into the mood I opted for a St Kilda AFL bag and s sour sweet bag. The day was surprisingly sunny and we required several beers t maintain a cool demeanour. One spectacle we really wanted to catch was the pig racing and diving, apparently the pigs jump of a platform. Sounds very exciting and must be as we tried to get into two separate shows and they were both packed. We decided to watch some horses doing some tricks and then leave the children to the endless supply of sugar.
Coming soon (promise) Gold in the hills and a trip to the bushfire towns.

P.S. The temperature today reached 36 in the city as a new heatwave takes hold of Melbourne and we have now entered the bushfire season. Thanks goodness for aircon!

Dubbo to Melbourne - The ride part 2

Dubbo had the distinction of having two main roads and therefore an intersection which made it pretty much the largest town we had driven through on the journey. Dubbo also had the distinction of hosting the under 16’s state rugby finals and was, our taxi driver informed us, packed to the rafters at the moment. We would be lucky to find anywhere to eat tonight, he also advised us despite not being asked.

We had pulled into Dubbo and registered in the Motel, a chain of Motels specialising in fitting as many people into the smallest possible space. Although this was also a very cheap Motel. The room consisted of a double bed with a single positioned on the wall above it. A small sorry looking TV hung in the corner and there was a tiny shower and toilet. Ah home from home, but we were not here for luxury, this was just the designated stop over. We decided to get ourselves a quick steak and a couple of beers then off to bed. With an early start we did not wish to be hung-over, so we ordered the taxi.

Despite the taxi drivers warning that the town was packed we walked into the local steakhouse, above the local pub, and found ourselves in an entirely empty room. The town maybe full of families with under 16 rugby players but apparently they had all brought sandwiches. We sat and ate two steaks then retired down to the pub. The food was OK I have to say and served with a smile.

Downstairs the scene was similar if a little bizarre; rugby (not under 16’s but full blown hulks) was playing to an almost empty room. In the back yard a band was setting up so we figured the place would be full soon. After a couple of beers the band started playing, a selection of Bon Jovi and country tunes, much to the delight of the solitary guy sitting in the third row. He had a private concert so why he chose not to sit at the front is anyone’s guess. The pub continued to fill and we stayed for a few more drinks, people watching as you do. This was my first real insight into Bogan culture, backwater towns with nothing much to do on a weekend but pop down to the pub and get drunk until you either fall over or pull a sheila. A group of girls, obviously on the pull judging by the dresses they were nearly wearing - not a pretty sight, decided to sit down next to us as they scoped out the room for talent. I have to say that I am grateful for not being official talent in Bogan land, I have no mullet and certainly was not wearing a flannel shirt. They moved away from us leaving their handbags and one solitary member of the group. Now when a girl is left alone with the bags you can guarantee that she is ugly or too drunk to pull. This one was the former and as she was alone decided that she would talk with the nearest people, us!

In short she was from Newcastle and as such way better than anyone from Dubbogan, and she was educated being a primary school teacher! I suggested that she use her obvious education to travel the world and to my surprise she agreed. Unfortunately she did not understand my intention that she do this straight away, as in now. Couple more beers then grab a taxi and bed.

The next morning we set off on the second part of the journey. First port of call is the radio observatory at Parks. This was the setting for the film “The Dish” starring that bloke from Jurrasic Park. Well it is a big dish, similar to Jodrell Bank in England. This was where the moon landing was transmitted from, actually I found out recently that this is not where the landing was transmitted from but it was the setting about a film about the moon landings. Confused! You will be. As we pulled up to the telescope I noticed that there were a bunch of Kangeroos’ standing round eating the grass. So I am one of the few people to jump out of a car and point a camera in the opposite direction of the huge white radio dish at parks!

Soon we were back in the car driving the endless miles through New South Wales. It is actually quite a boring drive to be honest. Scrub slowly changing to fruit plantations and vineyards. Pretty scenery but nothing very exciting. This wasn’t the outback experience I was expecting. Having worked on stations (Cattle ranch) ten years ago I had driven through some of the inhospitable outback. Four hours on a sandy track with no sign of civilisation to get to a small hut from where we would start building fences round stations that couldn’t be driven through in a day. The sun beating down on our little ute, water was essential and when we did get a flat tyre we would wait for the sun to die a little before attempting to change the wheel. This was real outback adventure. With serious risk of death due to snakes and heatstroke. In comparison a drive through NSW was a scenic detour full of civilised towns. This does remind me of a funny thing that happened once. We were driving down a sandy track, at the side of a four wire fence, when an emu decided to run out in front of the ute. Once in front of us it then decides that it will run away from us down the track, so we follow the emu carefully keeping the speed down to let it get away. After a couple of hundred meters the bird decides to leave the track, by turning in the direction of the fence. Now the fence is pretty solid with four thin wires strung between posts, the Emu runs into the fence, at which point it’s neck and legs fold back as the body of the birds flies between two of the wires. Like a large feathery snowball this object flies through the fence and lands on the other side. Out pop the legs and the Emu’s head and the dumb bird jumps up, visibly stunned by it’s ordeal. Then the bird starts to run away again, this time on the opposite side of the fence but still down the track as though we were going to run it over. Crazy animal but still one of the only times I have seen an Emu fly.

One thing about Australia that is quite funny is their love of big things, fibrecast mouldings of normal everyday objects, but BIG! Really big! They have the big banana, big strawberry and when we stopped for lunch there was the big Carp! A fish, by the side of the road, but two meters tall. Australians just love big things and as we ate fish and chips on the banks of the Murray river we sat next to one such big thing. They really serve no purpose what so ever but act as a tourist attraction for those people unfortunate to have to drive through the country. As far as ticking off the big things I am woefully underachieving, having only the big Carp and strawberry to my credit, but I am sure there are those touristy types who have a plethora of BIG things under their belt. Always makes for reliable photo opportunity. We missed the BIG guitar and BIG lime on our journey so I do not think this is going to become some kind of sad tourist attraction piece for me.

As we drove through Victoria I begin to get some sense of how big Australia really is. We had spent two days solid driving down through three states. If you look at a map of Australia and find Brisbane and Melbourne you will see just how little of the country we actually tackled, not very much at all. One day maybe we will get out and rive more of the country but for now my ass is numb and I really miss my little flat, and wife so we push on towards Melbourne. My faultless navigation skills manage to only get us lost once in the suburbs of Melbourne and we arrive in the evening. Tired, numb and having been on one of the longest dullest car journeys ever.

Final score was Kangaroo’s 18 Foxes 12, plus one lemur (that’s what it looked like anyway and a stick! Duncan mistook the stick for a lizard and we had to go back and see it).

Bogan

Every culture has one class of citizen that are derided and subject to sensationalist paper headlines, the group of society that everyone would rather didn’t have as neighbours. For the English it’s Chavs, for the Irish it’s Pikeys and Chinese people really do not like pig farmers. In Australia they have a sub-social sect called the Bogan.

What is a Bogan I hear you cry? Well this is the Aussie equivalent of the American Redneck. Bogans are working class people from the sticks, although the term originated in Melbourne, it is used to describe the backwards cousin loving folks who inhabit the outback. They are generally regarded as being stupid, lazy and essentially uncultured, this by a country who voted the Meat Pie as it’s national dish!

The bogan bloke is atypically Aussie, drinking beer round a BBQ followed by watching footy (AFL) or cricket before going to bed for a root (please don’t ask) and sleep. In his yard (no gardens in this world) he keeps a collection of rusted car engines and various whitegoods in states of disrepair, he probably keeps a hunting rifle in the back of his ute. For bogan girls, just think Essex girl with foul mouth and fouler temper, usually pushing round a child buggy containing more passengers than it was designed for.

Bogans are typified by certain credentials such as acid washed jeans, flannel shirts, mullet hairstyles and a love of 80’s hair rock. The term was made popular in the suburbs of Melbourne by metal fans who called themselves bogans, probably to differentiate themselves from wimpy rockers/U2 fans. However the term has changed in meaning over the years. Now there is a sub-culture of people who are glad to be bogan, the term has a certain charm around it and as this video shows they can be the source of such great fun:



Now I was introduced to the whole Bogan phenomenon when we decided to partake in the local pub’s bogan bingo. It’s bingo, with bogans. Two guys dress as bogans and read out a selection of numbers which are marked off on playing forms, called cards. This sounds like normal bingo I hear, played by old people in homes, people with old balls and greying wrinkled cards. Well yes it is actually, and how do Bogans change the game. Basically they introduce really crappy prizes, so bad in fact that when offered the chance of swapping said price (old car freshener anyone) people inevitably decide to swap their winnings for the offered free drink. The hosts are constantly offering jokes and playing a selection of music from the 80’s, all rock played by bands with really big hair. Bon Jovi (in the hair days – no new stuff), motley crue and def leopard all feature. At half time they have an air guitar competition, three girls randomly picked to simulate a sex act with an inflatable guitar, well that’s what won it anyway. The overall result is quite an enjoyable night out although one that should be treated as a one off. I would seriously be worried should I want to make the event a weekly item on my busy schedule.

Bogans are renowned for driving clapped out old commodore’s or ford falcon’s and basically being mad drivers (hoons). They are inevitably on welfare and spend their time drinking beers all day and watching sport. I guess bogan women must all work or produce many more bogans. If anyone has seen the comedy program called “Kath & Kim” then I can say that this is the latest incarnation of Bogan, moneyed bogans. Bogans who for some reason or other (inheritance, lottery, fraud) have become well off and have decided to move into the suburbs and live with the normal populace, These new Aussies are still essentially bogans, stupid, uncultured and ultimately looked down upon although they can afford the nice things in life, like low carb beer and non carbolic washing soaps.

Although when I really think about it I quite admire the lifestyle perpetuated by the Bogan culture. Sitting around watching sport, drinking beer and listening to bad American rock music whilst waiting for the next welfare check to arrive so I can spend it on more beer. No pressure to go to work and most of all, no worries.

Now I wonder if I brought any flannel shirts with me?

Roo’s 13 – Foxes 11

This may look like some sports result for local Australian teams but in actual fact it has a darker and more grisly message.

Brisbane to Melbourne, the concept is easy, I fly to Brisbane where I meet with my friend Duncan and we both proceed to drive his car back down through the outback to Melbourne. The trip will take two days of constant driving and will be the outback adventure I have been longing for since arriving. Two guys, the open road and lots of wildlife and interesting views to watch.

I flew up Friday night and despite there being plenty of drinking time left, it wasn’t even light on the horizon yet, was sent to bed with no beer. The reason behind this tactic was simple, we had a 5am start. Yes I did just say that 5AM! My god what have I gotten myself into! The only people who should be up at 5AM are people who haven’t gone to bed yet.

So 5AM and I am stirring an extra strong coffee wondering why I volunteered for this, but the excitement of the drive is growing and I am slowly waking up. The first stint of the drive is to go and get breakfast, a couple of hundred kilometres to a small café in Towoomba (honestly all the place names in this article are real), a café recommended by Duncan’s father who has made the trip several times. As it turns out breakfast was delightful and, fully refreshed, it was my turn to drive. The next leg of the drive would take us to Goondiwindi a mere 250Km-is away. As we approached the main highway we passed a Service station and having half a tank of fuel promptly ignored it. After all Duncan has been getting 600kms per tank so we would be fine.

Now I would like to say that driving in Australia is like a huge off road course, exciting terrain within a magnificent wilderness. I would like to say that but unfortunately I would be lying to you. The roads are twin lane, tarmac strips annoyingly straight, although the surrounding wilderness can be beautiful. If you really want to know what driving in the outback is like then have a look at this picture:

Enjoyed that did you, then stare at it again, look harder. Continue looking at the picture. Now stay looking at that picture for a couple of hours. That is driving in the Australian outback, for a more realistic experience turn the heat up in your room and occasionally lean left and right as if the car were turning a gentle bend in the road. Sometimes there appears a pub and couple of houses, this is what constitutes civilisation in the untamed wilderness, but for the most part it is endless nothing.

In fact the only interesting thing to do when in this situation is make up games to employ your mind. With this in mind we decided to do a spontaneous experiment into the mental health of the Australian Fauna. Obviously some animals get so bored by their surroundings that they find all they can do with themselves is throw their body in front of the first passing vehicle. This sign of manic depression can be measured by simply counting the amount of corpses by the road side.

There are rules though, as there should be, animals only count if they are recognisable and not too much of a road-kill pizza. After only an hour we had already counted 3 wallabies and 5 foxes. It seems that foxes are a depressed bunch of animals. Soon a sign showed that we were about 100 kms from Goondiwindi, our next stop and change over point. Around this time a small red light appeared on the dashboard. A light in the shape of a fuel pump. I asked how many kms were in the tank when this indicator came on and Duncan thoughtfully announced he wasn’t sure as he had rarely seen this happen. Great! As kilometres slowly clicked down we both began to get a little nervous about our predicament. I really did not fancy walking 80kms to a service station to pick up some gas and then back again. I’ve seen Wolf Creek and know what kind of mad people live out in the bush, plus there are snakes and spiders and all manner of things that can easily kill you by accident. As driver I also had the unfortunate view of watching the fuel needle sink slowly beyond the end of fuel gauge, we were now running on nothing according to our instruments. We slowed down to a more fuel efficient speed. This annoyed all those people coming up behind us at the speed limit then having to slow down as we trundled on at 80km/h desperately trying to conserve fuel. Now the kilometres took forever to tick themselves off and it was looking more and more like there would be a definite walk involved in this stretch of the journey. Apparently Duncan’s fuel efficiency was gained in a car running round town, with one passenger, and without a back full of personal possessions. We certainly had not packed for an outback excursion, barely a bottle of water between us. If we broke down we would be in a world of nothing., only a pack of jelly beans to maintain our reserves. The signs started telling us we were less than fifty kilometres from civilisation, I started checking the road for signs of civilisation, maybe a farm we could beg some fuel from. But nothing presented itself, at this point something terrifying happened…

No we didn’t stop! The light on the dashboard started flashing. Now I know warning lights and when one is on constantly this means you are close to be in the shit, when one starts flashing then this means hide the fan!

“What does it mean when this light flashes?” I asked trying not to show my nerves.

“Dunno, never happened before” replies Duncan.

“Shit!”

Slowly buildings began to appear by the side of the road, industrial type buildings, faceless and devoid of character. However this meant there must be some fuel close by, a small garage down a side street maybe, but again our search was fruitless. Not wanting to leave the main road we simply craned our necks and tried to spy signs of a garage down the streets we passed with no discernable luck. I could swear the flashing was getting faster. Then as we pulled round a corner around one impressively boring building there was a sign from above, “Town Centre”. So we turned and followed the sign hopefully into the centre and hopefully into a garage. We were not disappointed, as we pulled the car into the forecourt of the local garage we both breathed a great sigh of relief, the kind of sigh given when you reverse over a bump in the drive and upon getting out discover it to be your child’s toy truck and not the family pet.

Once the car was full we both phoned the wife and told them we were fine and nothing had happened so far. Nice safe trip. We love you Goondiwindi, despite the fact you really appear to be a high street, 150 houses and a shed load of industrial buildings. In their favour they do have the first pub in Queensland; unfortunately we were heading in the opposite direction so for us it was the last pub in Queensland. Ah well. Back on the road and back to counting those dead animals.

So we cross into New South Wales and continue in the same vain for hours at a time, stopping off approximately every 200kms to change driver and, where appropriate refresh ourselves. It is testament to the outback that the scenery actually does change quite dramatically, but it does this so slowly that most of the times you hardly see a difference at all. We speed though small towns and villages, all noticeable by the standard pub building sitting by the side of the road. The scrub of Queensland gives way to farmland and grassy fields. I would like to point out that this grass is not the English green, green grass of home; no this is long, dry, yellowy, harsh grass. Australian grass, only eaten by roo’s. Occasionally there are signs warning about fruit flies and that there are severe fines for transporting fruit in your car through some areas of Australia, imagine being arrested for possession of a Banana??

Dusk began to fall and we reminded ourselves that this was when the roo’s would be on the move. With less then 100kms to go to our designated stop, a small town called Dubbo, (oddly enough MS word recognises this word) and I notices movement on the left hand side of the road. I gave a warning and Duncan slowed the car a little as a huge red kangaroo launched itself in front of the car. Whilst we were far enough away to be safe from ever hitting it, unless it was to change direction and jump down the road towards us, it was obvious that this was a very big roo! Standing easily six feet tall the thing was all legs with a tiny little head. Should we have been travelling at speed and hit this monster it would have come over the bonnet, through the windscreen and probably kicked us both to death. Still it was a magnificent sight bounding away to some roo gathering, probably to tell everyone how close it came to kill two reckless tourists.

And so we drove into Dubbo, the delightfully quiet town of Dubbo, but I think more of that later, I didn’t intend on writing war and peace here. By the time we had arrived the Foxes were out-suiciding the roo’s by 10 – 6.

To be continued…

This is a typically Australian song, The Angels "Am I ever going to see your face again".

Audience participation is mandatory, and every Australian knows the response to the question - Am I ever going to see you face again? Test any you find on your travels.

Incidently this was filmed at a TV quiz show which is produced in the Espy, our local pub!

Classic Skit on Meridith Brookes "Bitch"

Aussie Humour

Christmas

One thing about living over in Australia is the nice fact that Christmas is slap bang in the middle of Summer. As a result the traditional Christmas lunch is just a little daunting a prospect. Where as in England the lunch is something warming and heartily filling, over here the heat of summer means that Christmas lunch consists of barbeque and salad. It’s just more appropriate.

However back in the 80’s a group of Irish backpackers started having a Christmas lunch in the heart of winter. They chose the coldest month and thus the Christmas in July was born. As this weekend happened to be the 25th July we decided that we would also honour the concept of a winter Christmas. I have to say that the Australians are happy to promote the concept, the snow fields are leaden with nearly a whole inch of snow and most of the ski-lifts are running skiers up hills to take advantage. A snowy Christmas is an advertisers dream and Australian resorts offer lots of Christmas themed events in the not so Alpine region.

Christmas Decorations

We agreed that we would each buy a secret Santa ($10 maximum) and have a party round at our friends house. We arrived early in the morning and drank a traditional Christmas beer, Boags as Duncan is Tasmanian. They had tastefully decorated although the use of a Palm rather than a real tree was a little unorthodox. Lights strung around the room and baubles hung over the window. Settling down to start traditional festive activities (i.e. watch movies on the TV) they then decided to introduce us to the newest member of their family.

Tassie is a 12 week old tabby kitten, who loves to chase things and dig her claws into furniture, plants and people. She had been collected in the middle of the week and was getting used to her surroundings. This was more like it, Christmas day with a mad little one playing with their new toys. Yes she did get a present although not from us as we had no idea she existed. She has two small black marks above her eyes that resemble devil horns hence the name, Tassie as in Tasmanian Devil. Of course the two girls were smitten by the bundle of fur and this meant they were kept busy during the important movie fest, sadly no Bond but we can always wait for December for that. Gifts were exchanged, we received a coffee maker and gave elephant clip (not to be used to hold real elephants), DVD and Toblerone (a whole meter of it).

Moira and Tassie

Lunch consisted of Duck, roast with all the veggies and roast potatoes that would be requisite on any European table. I got to carve, although actually hack would be a more appropriate turn of phrase, never got the hang of slicing meat off poultry so instead I just remove as much of it as possible from the carcass. More drink, including a delightful Plum Pudding beer, very festive, then we retired to the lounge for more TV. Doctor who, now that is Christmassy. We played games, smart ass – a game rather like Going for gold (old TV program in Europe), and discussed the year we have had, well we played games anyway. All the while a frolicking kitten playfully chased things and deftly tried to eat our food.

Finally we sat down to watch our beloved team beat the Western Bulldogs to take their unbeaten tally of games to an impressive 17. Seventeen rounds and still we are the only unbeaten team left in the competition, only five more games to go so we could end the year unbeaten, which would be great.

The only slightly nagging thing about the whole day, apart from it being the wrong month that is, was the simple fact that even in Winter here in Australia the sun was still blindingly strong through the window. There was no real sense of dark and cold evenings, although it does actually drop to a depressingly low temperature overnight here and sometimes there has even been mist and frost outside in the morning when we are setting off to work. No as we sat watching the doctor save the world we had the strong distinct shadows of the sun shining brightly through the blinds covering the windows. It may be Christmas in July but it is definitely not Christmas in England, thankfully!

Finally my favourite sight in Australia so far, St Kilda vs Geelong final score:

Winning

The computer is fixed, well as near as can be. We have internet and we also have a version of office, ish. So life can continue at a nearly normal pace.

Well unfortunately we were not the lucky one’s.

Last night saw the Oz Lotto prize money climb to an unprecedented $106 million. The highest ever prize in the country ever, as a result the lotto outlets were doing a storming trade and plenty of syndicates were sprouting up at work. The promise of untold riches was just too alluring and we bought ourselves a ticket. After all $90 Million, this is what the estimated jackpot would be, is an incredibly large amount of money in most currencies.
What would we do with the spoils though, this was the topic of conversation as the draw counted down. Moira suggested giving $50m to charity. Very noble you may think, but wait, that’s my money as well. Now I am not entirely without some egalitarian motives and would honestly donate a sizeable sum to charity. Without asking for any foundation or grant be named after me to boot. However giving away over half the money, now that just sounds a little hasty to me. Sure, once the house in London is paid off and the new house purchased in Oz then we would be having difficulty spending the rest, well actually no we wouldn’t. After the houses come the boats, one speedy little number for the fun in the sun days, then a second gin palace style mobile home. Of course these will incur Marina charges so we have to put some money away there.

So houses, boats and ultimately car. The car would have to say something about us, so would probably have to be the greenest car in the world. Let’s not destroy the planet just to get between the house and the marine here. Some electric or hybrid model will do. Although I would also just love to have a V8 muscle car, on standby for when the hoons (mad hooligan drivers) are in the neighbourhood. Just for show you understand.

After cars I suppose there are the holidays and what better than a small holiday home in New Zealand, close to the slopes and just a small cheap flight away. I would not consider buying a jet as this is just more money than it’s worth, especially when the service on commercial airlines is so, well so, so crap! The details with owning and running an aircraft would just bore me and also give someone an opportunity to siphon off funds. So no plane!

Now there are the incursions back to old blighty and also bringing people back to Oz on regular visits. My parents wouldn’t fly so they would have to have some kind of extended cruise, and they would have to do this with friends so there are quite a few people on this boat, luckily we will be able to meet them at the dock in our own gin palace. After all if you have just won $90 million you cannot tell people they have to pay to visit, because we gave it all away!! No trips arranged for anyone that wants one, on the double quick smart.

And owning these boats, houses and cars means we will finally have space for dogs, cats and maybe horses, although I have to admit this is strictly for the house, I am not sure that Horses can drive or are particularly good on boats. I like horses but again they are a drain on resources. Vet bills, housing, feeding and training all take their toll on the funds and we need to bear this in mind.

Give $50 million away, sorry I don’t concur with this at all. I suggest an initial payment of maybe $10million to assorted good causes and an ongoing appropriation of funds into other good causes. This will prevent charity organisation suffering from Mining Donkey syndrome, where a charity is so rich it could even buy Dave Stewart form the Eurhythmics. In addition it allows for the careful application of funds to the enjoying the rest of my life process I am looking forward.

However as I can unfortunately report, the jackpot was shared between a man in Adelaide and a couple on the gold coast. Not that I really play the lottery and never really give any kind of thought about what I would do with the money if I ever did win something of that magnitude. Well not much anyway.

Saints go head to head with Geelong on Sunday, both teams are unbeaten and, given that a draw is the least likely result in Aussie rules matches, it is being touted as the match of the season. We already have tickets and are gearing up for a day of sport, as Wimbledon closes on the same day. It will not make too much difference who wins on Sunday as both teams are looking like finalists at this stage of the competition but it will give the supporters plenty of bragging rights. Go the saints! Oh yeay and go that Scottish kid who plays for England in the tennis thing!

Disaster

Well all has been quiet on the western front for a couple of weeks. Has he stopped writing I hear you wonder!

Well the answer is far more serious, I have had a small disaster at home. Nothing physical and both myself and my wife are in the best of health. No this disaster is in the virtual world.

Recently we decided to buy ourselves a Webcam, join the Skype community and start video phoning our families back home. All simple enough, we bought an inexpensive camera and connected everything up. Downloaded and installed Skype and arranged to contact the in-laws (who we knew had already got a camera). When we connected we found that the connection was not very good, our machine ran so slow that whenever we tried to make an adjustment to the sound or video the whole thing froze and took forever to start up again. Eventually we gave up as it all seemed to be too difficult to actually run Skype through our connection. Not one to give up easily I began to think about what could improve the speed of our machine. Initially I removed some of the software we never used anymore. Cleaning off old phone manager packages and utilities for digital camera’s we no longer own. It took time but I managed to free up quite a lot of hard drive space by cleaning off things I no longer used. Still the machine was slow, I have to point out that this machine is approximately 6 years old and is laden with specialist web development tools such as Photoshop, Illustrator and Flash Authoring software. Thousands of pounds worth of specialist software actually.

So after cleaning the machine up as best as I could it was still running a little slow. I thought again about what I could do and remembered the disc de-frag tool. During the day to day use of a computer files get split up and spread across the hard disc, this utility actually pieces these files together and clears up the hard drive, thus speeding the computer up. I will do that then, I tell the wife I have a solution to our slow computer and start to navigate to the De-frag tool. On the way though I notice another utility listed “Disc Clean-up”. This is even better! This sounds like exactly what I need, so I open the tool and tell it to clean everything I no longer use. Remembering that the de-frag can take hours to complete I set the utility going and return to drinking beers and watching Aussie TV! Several hours later the computer switches itself off and we go to bed, me and the wife that is, I don’t sleep with the computer!

Next morning Moira want’s to check facebook and so starts up the computer, well tries to anyway.

“Disk read error, press CRTL, ALT + DELETE to restart”

Except that it doesn’t, restart that is! WE have a serious problem. I even try turning it off and on again. Same message is burned across the screen, my IT skills may not have been spot on yesterday, I think to my self. Trying to boot the computer from a different drive has no effect and when I try and list the contents of the C:drive in windows there is the message again. This really is serious!

I start to look through the few discs we remembered to bring with us, “Beatbox creator”, no! “Video director”, no! “Drawtool”, definitely not! Windows! YES! There in the pile of old discs is the windows install disc that was supplied with our computer. I tentatively place it in the CD draw and close it. The computer then promptly tells me there is no windows installed on my machine, what the hell did the utility clean, everything apparently, even the operating system!! Why would Microsoft write a utility that deletes everything on the disc??

I stare at the message for a few seconds, know what little I do about computers I now realise what is about to happen! Click here to install windows, I really appear to have no choice! So I click and see the message I was dreading.

“Drive not formatted, Format drive? Y/N”

Everything is gone! Wiped, I have no choice. (To any tech heads out there who is saying “Before doing that I would have tried….”, just button it OK)

Y

So our computer reformatted it’s hard drive and installed windows and I realised just how hard it is to get a computer back to the state it was when it was alive. Norton let me download our virus protection again without having to pay. Drivers for sounds and printers have to be found and installed, luckily there are utilities that you can get that will assist in this process. Slowly everything is getting back in order. Luckily when we shipped the computer over we took no chances with our personal files and backed them all onto disc. In addition we also put all our digital pictures onto a USB drive to show on our Digital Photo Frame, so between the USB drive, 3 discs and the Camera we actually have all our files safe. Even Itunes lets you copy your bought files from your ipod onto a machine authorised for your ipod so we are not losing everything.
Well that’s if you do not count all the web authoring software you mentioned, I hear. Gone I am afraid. As is Office 2000, although this isn’t a big shame really. The discs for the software are probably in the loft in London, we only brought a few with us. I thought if the computer was damaged during shipping then having the discs wouldn’t be that much use anyway, it was a simple miracle that I brought the windows disc.

The upshot of my tinkering is that we now have a very clean machine which runs quite fast compared to how it used to. We are now going to be using Star Office from Sun Microsystems, as it is about one tenth the price of MS. We have skype, and we spoke with in-laws yesterday over video phone with no problems

Just don’t ask me to build you a website!!

Work

Note to all: From now on, and henceforth, the financial issue affecting the world will be referred to as the Global Recovery. A large amount of the problem has been the fear installed in people due to the other R-word. So I call for everyone to remind them selves that we are in the grips of a terrible recovery. If everyone used this word maybe there will be the same movement towards the word as when the media were using the R-word. You never know.

I am having excellent fun with the Wolfram Alpha project, As of now, WolframAlpha contains 10+ trillion of pieces of data, 50,000+ types of algorithms and models, and linguistic capabilities for 1000+ domains. It tells you things, important things like that Shtup is a slang term for the F-Word.

I have been asked how we can afford all this shenanigans (I cannot believe word corrected my spelling of this word) we are doing. Supporting a house in London and renting a Flat in an exclusive part of Melbourne. The simple fact is we are both working very hard. Moira obviously works for Oxfam Australia, having been sponsored by them in order to bring us both over here. She is currently raising fund for the organisation to help them continue their great work in developing countries around the world.

Myself, I have had to jump from temporary contract to temporary contract. My initial job was to search for accommodation which is a full time job when viewings are during the week and there are so many people applying for houses to rent. Whilst in England I worked as a Digital Producer, which means I would meet clients, take their business requirements for websites (recruitment websites) then write a scope of work and ultimately project manage the delivery of said website. This would be an easy to migrate career you would think however in Melbourne there appears to be a shortage of web companies, most of the media companies dealing with web brands are based in Sydney not Melbourne. So, although there are jobs available, they are few and far between and when they do com up they are usually quiet well applied for. That said I am in no mood to stop applying for them myself. Until I get this dream job I am on the good nature of Hudson’s employment agency. They are doing quite well so far, keeping me mostly employed whilst I look for something permanent. So far they have found me three roles, two long term-ish and one short spell. What can I say about what I have been doing.

1) Jemena – Project Administrator. I had applied to be on the books of Hudsons but they were having difficulty finding the phone to invite me in for an interview. I had already registered with several agencies but as yet nothing had come good of it. So in desperation I made an Erin Brockovich style plea and phoned them informing them that “If they did not have the admin staff to contact me then they were in luck as I was looking for work. They should contact me as soon as possible to see if I was suitable to work for them.” Believe it or not this actually worked and they phoned back within twenty minutes. Initially they just wanted to see me for an interview, something I had been through several times before. Then a day later I received a call.

Apparently in their entire database of resumes (not CV) there was nobody who had listed in their skill-set the ability to use Microsoft Project. Apart from me that is! So I got my first placement, 1 week before Christmas I was to help build a project schedule for a mass Electricity meter replacement. In actuality the meters in question were to form a network, speaking to each other and central receivers, across Melbourne. The ultimate aim was to record and monitor electricity usage across the city, thus necessitating the retirement of meter readers and huge savings in staffing costs. Due to my excellent skills and the fact that nobody else understood Project the Program Manager decided I should return after Christmas to update the project and assist the team. So back I went and I worked doing an assortment of Project Support work including Status reporting on the project and scheduling, at one point they were talking about taking me on permanently but after three months their contract was cut and they suddenly had no more money to spend on contractors, so I was given a couple of weeks and was out.

2) Just Jeans – Administrator. Oh no I am going down in the world, not even a project administrator anymore. Still I was working in Fashion dahling! Working along side the planning department, doing simple data entry and spreadsheet manipulation. All in an attempt to predict how many blouses Jay Jays were going to sell in the winter lines. I did have the opportunity on my first day in the office to meet a bunch of models who were in the building for a shoot. They were all dogs, really, absolute dogs. Big brown eyes, floppy ears, wet noses and four paws on each and every one of them. It is a little surreal walking into the office and having several small lapdogs running round reception. However working for an advertising agency prepares you for unexpected things in reception.

3) Shared Business Services – Project Officer. This is more like it. Government department, I am filling in for someone who is on secondment with another department. Initially short term there is a possibility this could be extended but I am not holding my breath as I have been told this before and that proved a lie. Officer, I like the sound of that. Actual job is assisting the team to deliver a range of improvements to the HR/ Payroll systems for four government departments. The work is effectively managing development for Oracle Databases used by the Payroll and HR departments. Aside from the obvious technology difference it is very much similar to what I have been currently doing before.

So that’s my career as it stands in Australia. I will keep trying for that dream Producer role but have gone from being very picky to basically applying for anything. After all there is supposed to be a shtupping ‘R-word’ coming!

Magic??

How’s it going?

Every morning it’s the same thing. I arrive at work and am constantly asked “How’s it going?” How, exactly is WHAT going? This is one of the many formal greetings in OZ that will take the first time visitor by surprise. “How you doing?” is another. The main thing to remember when faced with such in depth personal grilling is that the person who is asking this question in all probability does not CARE! The fact is that over here the standard greetings we use in London, such as “Morning old chap!” and “Good day to you old bean!” have evolved into a standard greeting, much in the same way that the above English greetings gradually are evolving into “Hi”, “alright!” and “Would you mind moving your fat arses down the carriage!” It is this evolution of the language that makes arriving for work seem more friendly as everyone sounds concerned about my health, well being and if the mysterious ‘it’ is still going smoothly. However don’t be complacent, as tempting as it is to actually start telling the persons whom make this remark, just how life is going then you maybe taken for a bit of a weirdo. Like a mad old man on the bus mumbling to himself, the Australians will smile and slowly try and back away as you inform them that life could be better, you hate your flat and the dog has rabies. No the best resolution when faced with such impersonal questioning is just to respond with a positive, everything in my life is dandy thank you, “great!” and maybe follow up with “yours?” before walking away not even listening to the answer.

In the real world, Emma and Duncan have won a flat. Well that’s what it feels like when the estate agent phones to say it’s yours. They are moving into a flat just down the road from us. Across Barkly street off the main road. That is only five minutes walk away from us. If there was a pub in between it would be half an hour away but hey! They were extremely lucky with the flat, we were off viewing places on Saturday and one in particular stood out. Emma applied for the place immediately but as there were approximately 50-60 other people looking round the same place she wisely decided to continue searching.

So we had a cultural weekend, on Friday we went to the Melbourne arts centre to watch “The Magic Flute”. The production was fantastic really. The sets were spectacular and the singing, whilst having it weak moments, was strong from the central cast. There is however one small problem with the whole show. The ending!

Now people may not know the story of the Magic Flute so I will do a quick run through for you:

Bloke wandering in enchanted forest gets attacked, luckily three buxom valkrie type chicks turn up and save him. Then he gets given a quest to save a princess, daughter of queen of forest no less, from a mad bloke who runs a cult. Comedy sidekick steps in to provide laughs at this point; oh he also gets a magic flute, though no real instructions as to what he can use it for. He falls in love with princess and when he finds out she cannot leave the cult, brainwashed presumably but head of cult is not really a bad guy, he decides to join the cult himself. Honourable mention goes to a black dude who gets a real bum rap, he gets whipped and imprisoned mainly because of his colour, he eventually tries to rape said princess. Main bloke has to pass some initiation tests to get into the cult and uses magic powers of flute to protect him and princess, who joins in the test for some unknown reason. They pass the test and are to be accepted into the cult, they are now allowed to be married.

Now the big twist; the black dude has gone to get the Princess’ mother and the three buxom warrior chicks. They enter the cult headquarters armed to the teeth and get ready to kick some operatic ass.

Suddenly the wedding party are all singing about the sun coming out, I am thinking this would be a good point to reign opera asswhup all over the place, and then they bow and bugger off.

Where is all the action, murder, mayhem and carnage, there is none, no they just disappear when the sun comes up. That’s it! At no point did anyone mention that the forest queen and cohorts were all vampires. This is the operatic equivalent to “..and then they woke up, the end” And this is bloody Mozart, no wonder my school teachers wouldn’t let me use that ending, it’s been done before. Now you may think I am being harsh but let’s face it, it’s one of the most famous opera’s in the world. The tickets for this are hugely expensive and all for an ending I could have written at school. Tarantino would not have let this opportunity get loose, people would have body parts missing and the would be crimson rivers across the stage. Just a quick note for Kenneth Brannagh, when you get to this moment in your new shiny film have some kind of special effect to show a horrible end to the queen of the darkness. Make it absolutely certain that her and her vampiric cohorts are doomed. Just for me, please.

On a plus side the Saints beat Collingwood by 88points, the biggest of their year and we are back on top of the league.

Australian?

Australia

Emma is now amongst us in not so sunny Melbourne. She has the unenvious task of finding accommodation for her and Duncan who is due to make the long trip down by road in a few weeks. Actually I want to get up there and make the trip with him. A road trip through several hundred miles of highway and freeway, sounds like a blast. Better watch my speed though as we got caught doing 108 in a 100km zone and the Police have requested a small donation from me.

Anyway if anyone has read my blog form the beginning they will remember the weeks we spent looking for somewhere to stay in Melbourne. The endless trips round to estate agents who really don’t care about the customer, after all they have 30-odd customers for every property. This means they act as though they are doing you a favour just letting you look round the property. It is completely different from England, in England you walk into an agent and they ask you what you want. Then they try and sell you lots of places which are near to your desired abode. Constant streams of options are showered over you and you are asked how many you want to see in the next week. All good really as you get to see what is on the market and make informed decisions.

In Australia you see a property and ask to see it, if it is available they may let you take a key and view it otherwise they will take your name and then forget to phone you to let you know when the viewing is taking place. If it isn’t available then they will tell you so, and that is it. No sales pitch, no other options. From the Estate agents point of view it is your job to find the property you want and theirs just to show it to you and then take your application. It is very hard work hunting for a flat over here and something I do not envy Emma as she is also trying to meet the expectations of Duncan who, not being over with her, does not get a sense of what is and what is not available within their price range.

Anyway, it’s been nearly six months since we arrived and I have to say I am feeling more Australian the more I stay. The biggest Australian-ism I have adopted is the sport. The Aussie Rules season just started and, as a result of being in a workplace where the whole department are ardent fans of various different teams, I have had to choose a team to support. Initially I looked for suggestions but found very quickly that everyone has their own team and they all have excellent reasons as to why their team is the best, usually along the lines of “They are the best!” After realising I could insult someone for not choosing the correct team based on suggestions, and wary that I did not necessarily want to just choose the same team as my boss, the easiest option, I decided that maybe the team that plays in my favourite colour would be a good choice. Unfortunately no teams play in Orange! Scuppered by my first selection plans I now had only one option, choose the team that plays for where I live, St Kilda – The Saints! Right, choice made I am now a Saint fan. Step one is not to find out how they play or if they are a decent team. No, step one is to buy assorted St Kilda branded items to drape around my desk to show the office I have a team to support. Teddy bear in colours, check, scarf, check. Right now to find out what the rules of the game are.

Usually to support a team in a spectator sport it is vital to know the rules of the game, this generally prevents a person for cheering at a completely inappropriate moment in the proceedings. So how do you play Aussie rules?

First find an oval pitch, there are no corners in this sport so no need for a rectangular pitch. Luckily the other Australian sport, Cricket, is also played on a similar shaped pitch and as a result the same arena can be used for both sports. Next set up a goal, this consists of two large sticks placed in the ground to act as a goal like rugby posts, then add an additional two sticks further apart to act as a nearly a goal marker. After all Australians like to reward someone who tries..

So then send 36 men (18 a side) onto the field, four of each team stand inside a box in the centre whilst everyone else can go wherever they like, although the bar is considered out of bounds for players during a match. The ref then bounces the ball as high as he can and steps out of the way, the game is on. Basically the players get the ball however they can and try to place it between the oppositions inside goalposts. They can pass by kicking, tapping and punching the ball to each other but not throwing. If they run with the ball they must bounce the ball at least one every 15 meters, a lot harder than it looks. When the ball is kicked the recipient can claim a free kick, during which they cannot be tackled, or play on. Usually the opposing team will call the free kick if they catch the ball and the same side will play the advantage. As the only time the ball is out of play is during a free kick then the resultant skirmish to get the ball to the oppositions goal is full on. There are rules about where you can tackle but I am not too sure anybody knows them. Scoring between the inner goals gets six points and the outer posts earn a single point.

This game is quite special in that they reward and encourage (a little and only where necessary) home goals. If a player thinks there is a danger of the opposition scoring a six pointer he can play the ball into his own goal to give away a single point instead. Now as someone who was always a defender at school soccer matches, couldn’t run or kick the ball accurately and my tackles only resulted in personal disfigurement 50% of the time, I was renowned for my ability to place the ball into my own goal on every contact with it. I could have been a superstar in Australia.

Four quarters of 20 minutes and any extra time before the game is over. Quite a long match for anyone really but plenty of time to down a few tinnies.

So I chose St Kilda and they have turned out to be quite a lucky choice, winning their first five games of the season y some spectacular margins. In fact against Freemantle the captain of the Saints scored more goals than the whole Freemantle side, final score 111-28. So they are top of the league for a while and I am most pleased with my selection of team. Go the Saints!

Now all I have to do is call Sausages snags, cans tinnies and pronounce Data Darta, don’t think I will ever do the last one.

Brisbane

So this Easter we decided we would visit our friends in the North. Flights were booked to Brisbane in Queensland and we were set to fly out on Good Friday, returning the Following Sunday. It was quite exciting knowing that we would be seeing our friends although being afraid of heights I wasn’t too sure what I would make of their apartment as it was on the 31st Floor!

On good Friday they phoned saying that they were having difficulties buying beers for the evening and, being a sound project manager, I instigated a risk mitigation strategy and went to the pub. At the airport we sat and ate Hungry Jacks (the Australian version of Burger King) and drank another beer. I had a massive Aussie burger, which had beetroot and egg as well as the standard quarter pound of dead animal. Absolutely delicious but somewhat filling. As we waited for the plane to taxi to the runway and take off they announced over the intercom that there would be a meal served during the flight. Now I am used to budget airlines so was not expecting to get fed whilst making this small internal flight, but not wanting to waste food decided that I would eat whatever was placed in front of me anyway. We ordered some wine and were served pasta. I was quite stuffed at this point and was happy that at least Duncan and Emma didn’t have to feed us and we could get down to some partying as soon as we landed. But no, Queensland had a surprise for us. It was dry! That’s right, in some quaint and ancient law it appears that some holidays in Queensland are taken seriously and they will only serve alcohol with a meal. And not just a bowl of chips either but a full blown main meal. Well I was stuffed and there was no way I was going to be able to eat a full meal just in order to buy a beer at the pub. All the bottle shops and supermarkets were refusing to sell booze so it was a fairly quiet first night in Brisbane, this didn’t matter as we were with good company but still I think there should be some kind of warning, maybe at the airport:

“Warning, you are about to enter a backwards state that doesn’t serve beer today so please stock up before you travel”, something like that anyway. As it turns out that the 31st Floor provided a spectacular view over the Brisbane skyline and I wasn’t too afraid to get out onto the balcony.

First day in Brisbane and we had a good look round the city, it’s sort of like a small Melbourne. It has the tall buildings but not spread over the area that Melbourne has so it wasn’t long before we decided to have some fun at a bowling alley. I am terrible at bowling so after two games I wasn’t surprised to find my self humiliated and scoring very poor. I missed the pins so many times that my scorecard looked like a game of numbers hangman, 5 dash, dash, dash, 3, dash, dash, 4 etc. One day I will score over a hundred at this thing. I did get chance to buy a copy of Underbelly, an Australian crime drama based in Melbourne that is not allowed to be sold in Victoria due to the fact that some of the crimes featured are still under investigation there. It’s really good viewing and we watch episodes trying to figure out where they were filmed!

The following day we had a trip to the zoo planned. Australia zoo! The home of the crocodile hunter Steve Irwin. This zoo is quite remarkable in that it caters for indigenous species and is home to Koala’s, kangaroo’s and, of course, saltwater crocodiles. They put on plenty of shows for the visitors and we had fun feeding Elephants, not strictly an Australian species, and getting up close and personal with some Kangaroo’s, feeding them and stroking them in the park. They seem a little lazy to be honest but I suppose when your dinner is delivered by thousands of eager children and adults you really don’t need to run around much. Certainly no hopping! I managed to stroke a baby crocodile, it was in the safe handling of one of the many staff members I must add, I don’t go round trying to stroke killer animals usually.

Then the main event, a carefully choreographed display of Australian wildlife including snakes, birds and crocodile feeding. Steve’s wife Terry was running the show and we were lucky as his children Bob and Bindi were also taking part in the show, with Bindi feeding the crocodile in the arena. A thrilling, if somewhat touristy, few hours out. The one thing I certainly like about Australia zoo is it’s commitment to preserving the wildlife of Australia rather than focussing on the usual array of international animals that feature in almost every other zoo on earth. It is a real tribute to Steve Irwin as they are passionate about saving the wildlife and preserving the Australian continent so that other people in the future will have the opportunity to see these unique animals up close. If only they didn’t have to write Crikey on every piece of merchandise!!

Whilst we were in Brisbane our friends confirmed that they would be moving to Melbourne and that Emma would be coming down in a couple of weeks to start the house hunting for them, having been in this predicament I suspect we will have some housemates for a few weeks, at least in Melbourne you can buy a beer when you want one!

Friends

Busy week last week I can tell you. There are certain things that are taken for granted and you only really miss when you realise they are gone. It is a cliché but it is so, because in all it's overuse, it has a strong ring of truth. This was made very clear during the events of last week. We had Moira's brother over from England and also we had two of our dearest friends staying with us as well, Duncan and Emma.

Now our flat is a small one bedroom affair, with emphasis on the small. We had five adults all staying under the small roof and this was always going to be a bit of a squeeze! Concepts of privacy and space were out the window, which was lucky as there was no room in the flat for concepts of any size.

We met Duncan in London where he was staying as part of his world wide adventure, he is from Tasmania which makes him part Australian (part sheep). I employed him as a temp and we instantly became good friends, I am not sure if this is down to the lunchtime visits to the pub or the concept of doing as little work as possible for the Highways Agency. Anyway we had several good years in London, our complex network of friends growing slightly larger, especially when he met and fell head over heels (soppy enough for you?) with Emma. A delightful girl who takes no sh*t from our friend Duncan, Which is exactly what he needs! Needless to say he was a success with the company and when I left they made him CEO or something, not really but he was doing very well.

When we found out we were going to move to Australia there was much discussion over people who we would be missing. Friends and family we would be leaving behind and ways we would endeavor to stay in touch with them . If there is great happiness and excitement in setting out on a new adventure then there is equal grief in the act of leaving behind friends and family in whom we have spent considerable time and shared some special moments. Weddings, births and birthdays are all events that help bind friends and give groups of friends a link to something special, something shared between them that nobody has experienced or can repeat. Being part of something a little special is a human need and one that is certainly missed.

Don't get me wrong, Moira completes me and is my rock through life without whom I would be never able to cope. But friends sometimes give me an alternative type of therapy. The one thing which we never had any lack of until we moved was friends. For the past five months we have been coping well with the lack of any best friend type people, Moira has made friends with people at work but at the moment they are more like people she knows than special confidences.

Anyway when we announced that we were moving to Australia guess who started applying for jobs over here. And he got one almost straight away, speaking the language probably gave him a head start. They even had to move out here before we left. Unfortunately this job was in Brisbane. Which is a long way away. About an hours flight from here, not so far away as to make life impossible but we cannot call round the pub together like we did in London, still it is better than never seeing them again. And they came, not just them either. Phil and Perry are a couple we know through Duncan and Emma's housemates and they were coming to Melbourne at the same time as D&E! Quite the re-union. they were staying with some friends and we were going to get the opportunity to meet them as well so we could possibly increase our circle of friends in OZ.

Phil and Perry came round and were suitably impressed with our view, making the appropriate level of Oooo's and aaah's that I actually thought they would be really good on a wine tour!! We had to eat fish and chips the first night, way too many people to cook for and it was weird. Here were seven people who nine months ago were running their own life, minding their own business in London and were now sat round a small plastic table picking at fishy bits or chips. And this was the opposite side of the world. Amazing really.

Now when meeting new friends it is never a good Idea to start drinking before lunchtime. Especially when the plan is to go our for dinner. But Duncan was here! And there was beer in the fridge, actually there was way too much alcohol in the fridge to be safe but hey! So we went to dinner later, alot later (after snoozes to alleviate the alcohol consumption). Out to meet our new potential friends. Dinner in a newly opened Japanese restaurant in St Kilda. (Just a quick note to self: When in Japanese Restaurant, talking to waiter, do not mention the following - Kill Bill, Hitori Hanzo, Warm or Cold Sake and Hiroshima). I just continued to get drunker, and drunker. Moira says I was an embarrassment, which is something as she is used to my drunken antics, she really is my drunk barometer. Things were bad. I don't think we made new friends, if anything scaring away the one's we already have. Apparently I have been told I was asking if people liked food! I hang my head in shame!! Still I did have a good time, as far as I can remember and I don't think anyone wants to kill me, well maybe the waiter! Something I said about a samurai sword maybe.

After everyone left we realised that we really do want to see our friends more, so we booked a return visit. D&E live on the 30-something floor of a skyscraper in Brisbane so we are going to go and have a looksy, I am scared of heights so this is going to be interesting.

So to all those people we have left behind, please please send us some e-mails, a card, money, anything really. Facebook is so impersonal and we do not hear enough from you all. Lisa, Dom, Carly, Lucy, Mos, Andy, Jason, Chris, Clair and all others who I cannot remember (joke).

We will be getting finally connected to the phone system here so we will be giving people nuisance calls if they don't get in touch - Remember when you are all tucked up and comfy in bed we are WIDE AWAKE with itchy ringing fingers.

Another superb thing to happen last weekend was the arrival of my newest friend. Our brand new Samsung washing machine. It is a top loading technological god. It works out how heavy the load is and calculates water usage and stuff. It has a detergent drawer and so many lights it is sooo cool. Best thing is there are more controls than you can shake a mangle at but to operate the thing you just press "Start", absolute genius. The manual is a little weird though as it has been translated so I can tell you that our machine has:

For curios washing user incorporated into lid is transparent window device. When machine washing peer through to see progress of washing cycle.

Wow!

As I mentioned we spent an hour in Telstra shop whilst a young man made a hash of using the computer ordering system to request we be set up with a phone line. So soon I will be putting our number on this site. Or maybe just sending it out to a select few, who knows!

Brum

This article is all about cars, and all about driving them. This week Moira’s brother arrived in Australia to visit us and see what we are getting up to. As a result we planed a trip down the coast to the twelve apostles via the great ocean road. This particular rock formation is an extremely popular postcard image and is one of Australia’s great tourist traps. However in order to get to them we need to drive down the coastline, this being such a big country it is a journey that we couldn’t make in a single day so we decided to hire a car for a few days. The hire shop was unlike anything I have encountered in England. Just pay the daily amount and as long as we don’t right-off the car then our only other expense is the gas. When I asked what cars they had on stock I was told I could get a Hyundai for the same price as a Falcon. Did I hear correctly, a falcon, a ford falcon. Now there is a little bit of Han Solo in me and the opportunity of driving anything that can be referred to as “The Falcon” is just an opportunity not to pass up. Jon would have to be Chewie and Moira is of course princess Leia! Next stop Alderaan. I think I have to officially declare, at this point, that my spellchecker is not versed on Star Wars and as such cannot rectify the mis-spellings, so sorry to the George Lucas people for getting any spelling wrong.

In Australia there are two traditionally Aussie cars, the Holden Commodore and the Ford Falcon, both built here and both driven by taxi drivers all over the country. So I am driving in an authentically Australian car and it happens to be named after my favourite starship. I pick up the falcon, no checks for damage or waivers to sign and am told the car is LPG gas only, not petrol. I have never owned an LGP vehicle so it was with a certain amount of trepidation that I drove into the garage to fill her up (all starships are girls apparently). Now I am about to pump highly explosive gas into the high pressure tank in the back of my chosen steed, how does the nozzle work. Do I hold the handle until gas sprays out in all direction like a huge cigarette lighter? No not at all, I simply screw the nozzle to the car and the pump shuts off after the required pressure shows the tank is full. This does take a couple of attempts but eventually I have the tank full and we are ready to drop into hyperspace and shoot for the open road.

First we had to negotiate Melbourne city centre, not an easy task when the directions printed from the web mention roads that are not signposted or even where they should be. After several wrong turns and then abandonment of the directions we were on our way, first town to get to was Geelong, just round the bay and from here onto the B100 and the great open ocean. Most guidebooks will tell you that the great ocean road starts in Geelong, strictly this is true, however it is the B100 that starts here and at this point there is no real greatness and certainly no ocean. The actual ocean road really starts in Torquay. So we drive down the B100 towards Torquay, the road is long and straight and soon I have set the cruise control on the automatic car and left it to it’s own devices. I son realise how boring it is driving down a straight road with no need to depress any of the pedals and start to wonder if I should be in the back watching that old guy teach the kid how to wield a lightsaber, OK I will stop with the star wars analogy.

Torquay is small and really just a center for surfing dudes to hang around in, each year Rip Curl holds their world championships on a local beach, Bells Beach, and this attracts lots of international surfers. Wait a minute! Bells Beach, I have heard that somewhere before. Yes that’s right this is the beach featured at the end of “Point Break” where Bodie is waiting for the 50 years storm to bring in the biggest surf ever. With such a solid movie connection we are definitely stopping there. So just as we pull onto the great ocean road we then divert to Bells beach, following back roads and signs to the famous beach from the end of the movie. I will get the chance to be Keanau Reeves, Jon will have to be Patrick Swayze, and Moira, well she will have to be an extra in this scene. So we arrive at the beach and it is just like the movie, well actually not at al like the movie. You see whilst the movie claimed to be on Bells beach it appears that the beach has been redesigned since the movie was filmed. The stands for watching the surfers is in the wrong place and the whole beach seems to have shrunk a little. It turns out that the film was filmed in Hawaii and they didn’t use the real bells beach at all. Never mind we get out and admire the views, watching the surfers skim down the waves and marvel at the natural beauty of the place. It really is stunning.

Continuing down the road we get to the actual ocean road and suddenly the driving is completely different. I love driving, I have driven across most of the UK and across France and I love the feel of being on the open road. The great ocean road is one of the worlds best driving experiences, twisting round the curves of the country with forest on one side of the car and the ocean, stretching out to the horizon, on the other is a spectacular and thoroughly stunning experience. At every turn we have a new vista before us, bays with waves lapping into them and spectacular views across the ocean. The experience is awe inspiring and something I recommend for everyone. We drive all the way to Lorne where we stop for the night. The room is better than expected and even has a hot tub in place of a bath. The balcony has a sea view and is frequently visited by cockatoo’s.

The following morning we continue down but the road now drops away from the ocean and the drive is more like a quiet drive in England’s countryside. Soon we approach the coast again and this time the road drops straight down into the twelve apostles. The apostles are eroded sections of the coastline that have broken away from the mainland and now stand as towers in the raging oceans. Whilst there once may have been twelve the ocean has reclaimed some and has yet to produce replacements. As we get to the lookout point, along with a couple of hundred other tourists, it starts to rain and initially I fear that our photo’s are going to be a disappointment. I needn’t have worried, the formation are so spectacular it is almost impossible to take a bad picture of them, the rain-clouds just giving an eerie effect to the images, probably unlike anything most people get to see, or maybe not.

After the apostles it’s back to Lorne and another night in the lush room. Then the long journey home. With the sights and the fantastic driving I arrive a very happy person indeed.

But this is not the end of the motoring madness I have in store, as this weekend is the Australian Grand Prix and we have tickets. I don’t think I have to report the results of the explosive opener sufficed to say that the day was a real good day out, very hot and we spent a lot of time taking pictures of some very fast cars, too fast as it turns out for when we check the images on our camera we find that we have a lot of pictures of empty track. Moira did get a shot of Jenson as he drove round the track, as well as pictures of the air-shows and other racing cars. After the race we were allowed on the track and as we walked round I picked up some of the rubber that had been lain down by the screaming cars, by my reckoning, I now own one millionth of a formula one car. We arrived home after the day slightly deafened but thoroughly impressed with the days events.

WINE

Anybody who has spend more than a few minutes with Moira and myself will know that we are particularly fond of wine. All types but not sweet, we do not do dessert wines. So it was a pleasant surprise when we received a gift of a vineyard tour of the Yarra Valley, a rich wine producing area around Melbourne.

So on Saturday we woke up early and slowly made our way to the meeting point, the George Hotel, on Fitzroy street. It was just before nine and our tour was to pick us up outside the Hotel. Moira went in to buy a coffee for us and I stood outside wondering why the bus was not there yet, it was closing in on 9am and no sign of a wine tour bus. I looked around me and up at the Prince of Wales Hotel. Slowly realisation dawned and I ran into the coffee house,

"We're in the wrong place" I blurted before running out of the shop and up the road. As fast as my little legs could carry me I ran up the road to the next large pub/hotel. Luckily there was the bus, the driver was standing outside and as I approached he asked for my name. I am beginning to get used to the unusual stare I receive when I say "Moira" now as most of the trips have been booked in her name and I know this is what is written down on their hardboard list. Moira brought up the rear and we finally sat on the bus, panting, having thrown our coffee's in the bin. Apparently the air con makes the smell linger. Two more pickups and we were off.

A couple of years ago we took our trusty car on a voyage into France, driving across towards Germany to see some vineyards and taste local wines. We had stoped off in the Champagne region and visited some of the big names there so we were professionals when it came to the whole wine tour process. First look at the fruit and wonder at how many tons were being harvested (It's autumn here so it was approaching harvest time), then look at the vats and tanks used to ferment the wine. Make appropriate noises, usually lots of "ooohs", "Ah"'s and the occasional "Wow thats a lot of wine". Finally get down to some serious tasting. We had done this in France and especially round the Moet & Chandon vintner.

Which was lucky as our first stop was Chandon, a subsidiary of the French wine producers. They made sparkling wines which they cannot call champagne but due to the heritage must be the closest thing over here. A tour commenced and although our Guide, Nick, was knowledgeable, I was wanting to fill in the bits I knew about from the previous tours. Such as the fact that the bottoms of the bottles are weaker than the rest so if one explodes whilst stacked in the caves it does not destroy all those bottles around it, merely loses the end of the bottle. But I stayed quiet and provided the appropriate level of "oooh" and "Aaah" when required. They did mention the second fermentation of champagne and how the yeast is extracted, which always reminds me of watching Garth doing the same in his kitchen, wine exploding across the room as he quickly tried to reseal the bottles. The vineyards are less than an hour outside Melbourne so it was 11am when they finally finished the quick tour and we were ushered into the Green room for tasting of our single glass of Champers. Both of us chose the vintage sparkling and it was good.

After the free tasting we wandered into the shop where there was more tasting, this time with the intention of making us purchase as much wine as possible. Now a clear difference here to France was the attitude of the staff. In France to try is to buy almost, with withering looks from staff if, after a glass, you merely moved onto a new wine without purchasing a bottle immediately. here they were happy to pour several glasses and continue to do so even if it was obvious that there was no sale in place. We were, of course, very aware that the sun was hanging well below the yard-arm and as such only tasted the free wines. Maybe ten or so. After the tasting we bought a bottle of the vintage and boarded the bus for the next vineyard.

Rochford Wines is a large Vineyard in Yarra and as well as having an extensive vine selection they also play host to concerts and open air movies. They also have an excellent restaurant which was where dinner had been booked. At this station they introduced us to the local Sauvignon Blanc, completely different from the Marlborough Sav Blancs (see my little wine abbreviation there) and ran us through the tasting process. Swirling, sniffing, colour etc. But without the spitting! A couple of tasters later and lunch was served, again friendly staff who were all to eager to continue to pour drinks for our palates to experience. For those interested Moira had a Barramundi fillet on Asian veggies and I had a rather dry looking piece of pork. After the meal we wandered into the shop, surprise, and got down to some serious tasting. Pinot, sav blanc and some others were quaffed, I like that word, and eventually we decided on a nice red to buy and take with us.


Up next was Yering Station set in picturesque countryside, this station was acclaimed as being a winner of tourist winery of the year. and again a quick tasting session, this time Pinto Noir, and we weer left to our devices in the shop. Again in the large vineyards they had a selection of some outstanding wines although this time, maybe we were tired, we just settled for a cheaper Pinot, Mr Frog, rather than one of the expensive vintages. Just a easy quaffable light wine for the evening.

Finally a family run vineyard Helens Hill is a smaller vineyard at just 150 acres. They have been producing wine for 20 years and are practically a fledgling company in the region. They immediately made everyone feel welcome and quickly dispersed Pinot Noir and Sav Blanc for all to taste, comparing the standard wines with vintiges. The staff were quick to point out that they were a small and new company and that they had been working hard to produce the wines on offer. We tasted a few wines and during this we also found out that they had been affected by the recent fires. They had lost 20 acres to the fires and their red was being tested to see if the smoke had damaged the grapes beyond the ability to make wine form them. So this year could be a lean year for this vineyard. We decided to buy three bottles of the Sav Blanc, two normal and one vintage. Luckily this came in a gift pack and so was a little cheaper.


Note, at the end of the green vines the trees are coloured brown, showing how close the fires came to this vineyard.

After this we headed back to Melbourne, the tour was over and we had spent an excellent day in the country. Melbourne was having a river festival, the Moomba Festival, and there were displays of water ski-ing and wakeboarding on the river Yarra during the day. But laden with bottles we decided that we would visit that another day.

The next day , in fact, was when we found ourselves down by the river. Walking along the banks of the Yarra, there were stalls everywhere highlighting the river flora and fauna. Some were giving away tips on how to save water, Australians are obsessed by the stuff, but this is hardly surprising as they really don't have that much of it. Victoria is in drought conditions and the government are trying to get everyone to limit their usage to 155 litres a day. We even have a small eggtimer in the shower in order to aid us with showering in under 4 minutes. Other stalls were selling food or giving people th chance to win oversized muppet stuffed toys (not endorsed by the Jim Henson workshop I hasten to add). We cruised the banks and then headed for the pub, it's funny the looks you get whilst sitting in the pub next to a three foot tall kermit the frog!!