BACK by no demand whatsoever, it's my own view of the year 2006 (The Year Of The Decent Person) in 26 easy steps. This may take a while, so grab yourself a cuppa (or beer if you're lucky enough to be in Australia), turn of the phone, and enjoy...
A is for Ashes, Australia winning the
If there was one thing about last year that I wasn't really prepared for, it was England doing the unthinkable and winning the 2005 Ashes series. Since then pretty much every cricket fan in Australia has been gunning for revenge, if only to shut certain English supporters up (here's a tip guys - we've already held the Ashes and the Rugby World Cup twice. It's not unheard of). Three Tests in and Australia holds the Ashes once more!
B is for Bananas and Barrels
At various times during our training we'd talk about what the end of training party and how drunk we were going to get. "It'll be on like Donkey Kong" would often be the call. "Bananas and the barrels." Throughout the season it'd be the catchcry every time the four of us males caught up - time for the bananas and the barrels.
C is for Craziness
And gee willickers, wasn't there a fair bit of that? Whether it was staying up till all hours after a Munich pub crawl, drinking just a tipple too many in Venice or any night in Florence, there was craziness aplenty all year.
D is for Decent Person, Year of the
While 2005 was memorable in so many different ways, there were a few things it needed to improve upon. For one, it seemed like all the sleazes and creeps were the ones hooking up, while my own behaviour was at times a little off. Myself, Waters and Sandy all designated this to be the Year of the Decent Person, something which has paid off well for all of us!
E is for Extravagance
Some guides are fairly straight up and down on the microphone; some throw in some low-grade humour; and some say things like "and Germany is bordered by Poland, the Czech Republic... Dan's Mum..." I was never quite that bad, although one driver was never impressed when I kept referring to him as the "Zimbabwean Zex Zymbol"...
F is for Friends
Not the sitcom, which tormented me throughout the Busabout season as the most commonly-played series, but rather the friends I made during the year. Last year I had the chance to make friends during a two-month period on the circuit; this year it was almost the full six months. I took things a little easier this year because of my job as a guide, but still managed to make some top friends. To all of you (and the old friends as well) I once again raise my glass and wish you the best for 2007.
G is for Golf
Not that I ever got to go out and play a game this year. At one stage in St Johann in Tyrol I went with Travis x2 for a round. We all hired out bikes and were looking forward to the concept of sledging each other as much as possible. The first drama came when we realised we had to ride over a mountain or 30 (none of us being close to fit), and then when we got there everyone was dressed up, a marked change from our outfits of thongs (footwear non-Australia smartarses), footy tops and rude t-shirts. To cap it all off we went down the side of a busy highway to get back...
H is for Hell to pay
Guess which bright spark had that after being late for the coach one day?
I is for Icey-cold December
I love December. From my birthday at the start of the month through to Christmas parties, Christmas and New Year's Eve, it's basically one big drink-fest that's normally done in stinking hot weather. Not this year! It wasn't a White Christmas (indeed, hasn't snowed in London yet), but so far as my body clock goes, it's a damn sight colder than it should be!
J is for Jungfraujoch
For the uninitiated this is where you go if you want to ride the highest train, eat at the highest restaurant, post from the highest post office and urinate/defecate from the highest toilets in Europe. We got to go free as part of our training, and I tell you what, it's worth every franc (154 for a normal return trip; equivalent to about A$165). It was also the first time the Zimbabwean Zex Zymbol had seen snow...
K is for Kissing
Dunno about French kissing in the USA, but there was certainly plenty of it in Europe this year (not necessarily by me). Some attempts by some to get a kiss were nothing short of hilarious; some were a case of "them with who?!?". Lots of entertainment for the whole family...
L is for Lobbies
It seemed like half of this year was spent on the road; the other half in hotel/hostel lobbies either helping people check in or as the night porter in a 4.5 star hotel. Personally, I'd rather have spent it in newspaper rooms or radio studios, but there you go.
M is for Marriage, Friend's
Only the one this year, and a damn shame I missed it! Hamish and Leanne tied the knot in April this year while I was doing my training. Of course, if Hamish can pull in such a fine catch, there's hope for the rest of us!
N is for Nothing
Which is what was in my head one night when I had just a few too many to drink. It nearly cost me my job with Busabout and lost me the respect of my boss and is obviously not something I'm proud of. I tried following it up with No-Alcohol, but that only lasted until the guy who ran Munich's "The Crawl" spotted me in Paris. After that I was a little more circumspect when drinking on a bus night...
O is for Oktoberfest
Munich. Beer. Women walking around in revealing clothes. Nirvana? You betcha - and I got to go twice and get paid for it! It's possibly the only place in the world where it's ok to sing and dance to both the Village People's YMCA and John Denver's Take Me Home Country Road. Priceless.
P is for Port Douglas
Many people quite like Port Douglas: but then they only visit the place for a holiday. Living there's a little tougher, especially when a serve of fish and chips on the main drag won't leave much change from a $10 note (maximum $5 in just about every other place in Australia).
Q is for Queensland
To be perfectly honest, last year was shithouse so far as Queensland sporting teams go: we seriously couldn't have won a chook raffle even if we'd bought all the tickets. The Pura Cup final gave a hint of change when we racked up the small matter of 900 runs against Victoria (teeheehee), but the fun was just starting. In the State of Origin we went down to NSW 17-16 in the first game courtesy of a Brett Finch drop goal. Fast-forward to the second game and I happen to have days off in an Aussie bar in St Johann in Tyrol (Austria). The first game I'd watched in two years was the best, as Queensland shat all over NSW and won 30-6 in front of a seriously crazy Lang Park crowd. I didn't get to watch the third game, but a call back home confirmed what I needed to know: Queensland had come back again and won the series. At last!!!
R is for Relax, Stupid!
I wish I'd done that a little more in 2006. Hopefully the New Year means a new beginning, and I won't have to worry so much about money, work, the boss wanting to sack me, etc etc.
S is for Serving your country
At the time of writing I have two brothers serving with the Australian Army overseas; a friend of mine has her twin brother doing the same. While we may not agree with the reasons behind our soldiers going to certain parts of the world, we certainly wish them the best and pray for a safe return home.
T is for Traffic
And didn't we run into a shitload of that this year? We had some shockers - five hours to travel less than 100km from Dresden to the Czech border; trying to get around the Rome GRA; anytime coming into Paris. But the one that takes the cake was heading from Nice to Barcelona via Avignon. We'd hit speed for a minute or so, then wait another ten before we could go again - and this pretty much the whole way from Avignon to Barcelona. The crew on the previous bus got into Barca around 1800; we got in around 2230 after starting at 0800. Not the world's greatest birthday for Migs, and not a great one for either of us as we had to be up and at 'em by 0800 the next day!
U is for Underground, The
When I first came to London in 2005 the Underground seemed like such a wonderous thing: trains every few minutes reaching most destinations. Now I'm living in London it can be a pain in the arse, especially since it doesn't run 24-7. Also because at one point it seemed every train I wanted to get on was the first for about 15 minutes and as such was jam-packed with sweaty, stinky commuters.
V is for Victory
See A and Q for further details...
W is for World Cup
Quite possibly one of the biggest thrills of this year was being in Germany for parts of the soccer World Cup. Although I missed Australia beating Japan (being on a bus between Nice and Lauterbrunnen was a nice consolation prize), I did get to see parts of the other Australian matches. During the Australia-Brazil I broke a chair (and was recognised by about 50 passengers) when Australia came close to scoring; the Croatia match I was back in Lauterbrunnen getting completely shitfaced; and the Italy match I just managed to see in Paris (in time for the "Dive of the Century"). I also got to see the Germany vs Italy semi at the fan mile in Berlin and the France vs Italy final in Paris. In both cases the country I was in lost... damn Italians!
X is for X-Rated TV
Which is exactly what you'll get if you happen to idly flick through the free-to-air stations on Spanish TV. Seriously, it's the kind of stuff you normally get in a brown paper bag after sending $9.95 plus postage and handling to a Fyshwick address...
Y is for Young Siblings
I have a brother not far past 8 and a sister about to turn 5. I haven't seen them since March; I probably won't see them again until January 2008. I miss them both heaps, but rest assured, they're getting some pretty big hugs when I (eventually) get back!
Z is for Zimbabwean Zex Zymbol
Some people know him as the Zimmer; I made this one up; and Jules toook it one step further with the Zeductive Zlutty Zimbabwean Zlapper. Whatever you call him, he's a top bloke - the memories of celebrating his birthday in Nice then spending his actual birthday stuck in traffic for 14 hours will stay with me for a long time.
Here's to a safe 2007!
Friday, December 22, 2006
Thursday, December 21, 2006
2006: The Soundtrack
HAVE you ever associated a particular song with a particular event, a certain time in your life?
I do quite regularly - something that shouldn't surprise most people given most of these blog titles are lines from songs to start with.
While I seem to be saying this at the end of every year, this year truly was the most memorable. Perhaps like a good wine, I seem to be getting better with age... even showing very occasional signs of ageing!
At any rate, music has played a pretty major role this year, so without further ado, here's my soundtrack for 2006.
Enjoy.
I do quite regularly - something that shouldn't surprise most people given most of these blog titles are lines from songs to start with.
While I seem to be saying this at the end of every year, this year truly was the most memorable. Perhaps like a good wine, I seem to be getting better with age... even showing very occasional signs of ageing!
At any rate, music has played a pretty major role this year, so without further ado, here's my soundtrack for 2006.
Enjoy.
- I'm A Believer The Monkees
Then I saw her face ¦ Now I'm a believer ¦ Not a trace ¦ Of doubt in my mind
Nice, cheesy little song to open up the innings: and generally a song I'd open up with when singing karaoke in Florence. Was there anyone I would sing this about? Nope... - Disco Inferno The Trammps
Burn, baby burn ¦ Disco inferno ¦ Bern, baby Bern ¦ Disco inferno
While on the subject of cheese, this one cranking through the bus speakers every time we went into/through the Swiss capital Bern never failed to amaze. Probably the best reaction came from a girl called Kira, who completely lost it when I stood up after the song to give out info about the city and had a big cheesy grin on my face. Poor thing, it was her first day on the buses too... - Total Eclipse Of The Heart Bonnie Tyler
Once upon a time I was falling in love ¦ But now I'm only falling apart ¦ There's nothing I can do ¦ A total eclipse of the heart
Why, oh why would you include this song? It actually came up twice during the year: the latter about a month ago when I saw a guy belt it out at karaoke and everyone joined in. But the first time was during our training in April, when for some reason it became our theme song. Cue lot of shocked faces when we asked for it at the after-training party and starting belting it out ourselves. - Livin' On A Prayer Bon Jovi
We've got to hold on ¦ Ready or not ¦ You live for the fight when that's all that you've got
Scene: Red Garter nightclub, Firenze (Florence). Your truly has just finished belting out I'm A Believer when the guy running the show asks if I know how to sing this song. Somehow, improbably, it comes out well with everyone singing along. After that it became a staple of my Florentine experience, one which many others sung along to as well... - Love Generation Bob Sinclair
Why must our children play in the streets ¦ Broken hearts, and faded dreams
All our Greek Island guides have a love/hate relationship with this song. Every time it comes on it's almost compulsory for them to get up on the nearest bar/table and dance away. Also memorable because the kid in the film clip reminds me of Bob. - Hey Baby DJ Otzi
When I saw you walking down the street ¦ I said that's the kind of girl I'd like to meet
Picture this: you're leaving Munich, the beer capital of the world. Chances are you've spent the night sampling said beers, and have what's known in the industry as a hangover. You're on a coach to St Johann (and Venice) and are looking forward to a peaceful day on the coach. Right? Wrong! Once we crossed the border into Austria I'd play this, partially because DJ Otzi is from St Johann in Tirol, but mostly because that's just me. - Feel Robbie Williams
Come and hold my hand ¦ I want to contact the living ¦ Not sure I understand ¦ This role I've been given
You may be wondering why I'm including Robbie Williams in this list. There is actually a good explanation for it though. In Ireland someone lent me a copy of Chris Heath's Feel. It can be an infuriating book to read: it's more a documentary rather than a biography. At any rate, the book itself tells of a man who does well on the stage but is rather less confident off it. Worth a read. - Respect Aretha Franklin
R-E-S-P-E-C-T ¦ Find out what it means to me
This was one of those ones that only seems to come about when you're on a coach for the 18th consecutive day, you're going to get severely bullocked by the boss in two days time, and you might just be a touch stir-crazy... Great song though. - The Car Song Cat Empire
But just right now can't think of anything better to do ¦ Than to sit down at the piano and to write this tune
Upbeat and funky with just a tinge of regret. I only found out about thsi track by accident in Port Douglas when I'd 5-starred it on the iPod instead of Hello. Never mind: it's a great track. - Sounds Of Then GANGgajang
Out on the patio we sit ¦ And the humidity we breathe ¦ We watch the lightning crack over canefields ¦ I laugh and think that this is Australia
While my stint in Port Douglas wasn't all that long (six months), it was nothing short of memorable. It was in Port Douglas that I watched the Socceroos beat Uruguay in a World Cup qualifier last year (every pub on the main drag was full and pumping), while a little later on it was also there I rang in 2006. This song pretty much sums up North Queensland and would inevitably lead to homesickness. - Dancing On The Jetty INXS
Watch the world argue ¦ Argue with itself ¦ Who's going to teach me ¦ Peace and happiness
Every time this came on when on the bus I kept thinking it was a quiet track. Not the case - the start of this rock song is actually a whole lot of stringed instruments. Pertinent when you consider I spent a large part of the year watching people. - I Got You (I Feel Good) James Brown
I feel good ¦ I knew that I would now
Relevant, not just because it's what I sang to Donkey to gloat at the fact that Queensland had won the State of Origin and I'd won £10 off him, but because of James Brown's death very very late in the year. If there was a second cd I'd include Get Up (I Feel Like Being A) Sex Machine in honour of J20... - Put Your Hands Up For Detroit Fedde Le Grande
Put your hands up for Detroit
As you've probably guessed, there's not a great deal of meaning to the lyrics of this dance track. It gains inclusion in this mix because the people at the Generator hostel played it... and played it and played it and played it and played it and played it, and when they were done, they played it and played it and played it and played it... - Long Train Runnin' The Doobie Brothers
Without love, where would you be now ¦ Without love...
Nice enough track that reminds me about life on the big blue bus. - Long As I Can See The Light Creedence Clearwater Revival
Put a candle in the window ¦ 'Cause I feel I've got to move ¦ Though I'm going, going ¦ I'll be coming home soon ¦ As long as I can see the light
One day, I'm going to get jack of moving, sick of living out of a bag, tired of not knowing where I'm going to be in a month, or even a week.
One day...
Thursday, December 14, 2006
London Calling...
THERE'S a couple of things about London that you're never really prepared for, things that you wouldn't necessarily associate with the capital of one of the world's greatest empires, albiet more than a few years ago.
Parts to do with the local psyche that don't quite match up with the enduring stereotypes that you (ok, me) grew up with.
It's certainly not the weather. As many an English person (pom) has said, if you want nice, warm and sunny weather, you face towards England and walk the other way. It hasn't been too bad here, but I'm still not looking forward to the concept of a freezing January and February when my body clock says it's time for 30 degrees and 100 per cent humidity.
It's not the fact that the Underground is often crowded and breaks down regularly. You're always resigned to the fact that the first train you try to get on is generally the first one in 10 minutes and that 456,972 other people have decided to try the same thing at the same time. Besides, smart man notices there's a train a minute later that's often close to empty.
It's definitely not the fact that there's almost a pub on every corner. I made sure I was prepared for that concept...
No, the first fact about London that you're not prepared for is the fact that a great many of the locals are extraordinarily rude. To stand in line for a tube ticket is to feel what it's like to be a pinball, except that the flippers are more likely to apologise for sending you all kinds of places you didn't want to go.
Make eye contact or smile while on the tube and the likely response is a glare. In fact, that applies off the Tube as well: I smiled to myself about something that happened back home and a man asked rather aggressively what I was smiling at.
Put people in the front row of a comedy club and they're mre likely to tear your head off than thank you for your service.
Here I was thinking the English were polite people with manners...
But possibly the thing you're most unprepared for is the water.
Not so much the fact that so much falls from the sky - see point made above - but the fact that the water pressure is so monumentally crap.
When I first came over last year it took me half an hour to get the toilet to flush properly: you have to have the knack (and believe me, you learn quickly!). Showers are often fraught with danger as the hot water fluctuates while you're running backwards and forwards under the dribble to try and get wet.
Apparently it's because the pipes here date back to Victorian times, something they're only just fixing up.
Despite the water and some of the people, it's still a plenty special place.
Just don't use the Tube in peak hour.
Parts to do with the local psyche that don't quite match up with the enduring stereotypes that you (ok, me) grew up with.
It's certainly not the weather. As many an English person (pom) has said, if you want nice, warm and sunny weather, you face towards England and walk the other way. It hasn't been too bad here, but I'm still not looking forward to the concept of a freezing January and February when my body clock says it's time for 30 degrees and 100 per cent humidity.
It's not the fact that the Underground is often crowded and breaks down regularly. You're always resigned to the fact that the first train you try to get on is generally the first one in 10 minutes and that 456,972 other people have decided to try the same thing at the same time. Besides, smart man notices there's a train a minute later that's often close to empty.
It's definitely not the fact that there's almost a pub on every corner. I made sure I was prepared for that concept...
No, the first fact about London that you're not prepared for is the fact that a great many of the locals are extraordinarily rude. To stand in line for a tube ticket is to feel what it's like to be a pinball, except that the flippers are more likely to apologise for sending you all kinds of places you didn't want to go.
Make eye contact or smile while on the tube and the likely response is a glare. In fact, that applies off the Tube as well: I smiled to myself about something that happened back home and a man asked rather aggressively what I was smiling at.
Put people in the front row of a comedy club and they're mre likely to tear your head off than thank you for your service.
Here I was thinking the English were polite people with manners...
But possibly the thing you're most unprepared for is the water.
Not so much the fact that so much falls from the sky - see point made above - but the fact that the water pressure is so monumentally crap.
When I first came over last year it took me half an hour to get the toilet to flush properly: you have to have the knack (and believe me, you learn quickly!). Showers are often fraught with danger as the hot water fluctuates while you're running backwards and forwards under the dribble to try and get wet.
Apparently it's because the pipes here date back to Victorian times, something they're only just fixing up.
Despite the water and some of the people, it's still a plenty special place.
Just don't use the Tube in peak hour.
Friday, November 24, 2006
I'm In London Still...
I GOT very homesick last night.
Like many others travelling around the world, being homesick isn't something new. Every now and then something comes up that makes you feel like jumping on the next plane home to get back to the familiar; but by and large it passes.
But there was something about last night that seemed to make it hit home that yes, I was over this sid eof the world, and no, I wasn't going to be back home for a long time.
Unsurprisingly, it was the cricket.
The first day of the Ashes was on the idiot box, and like all good Australians with a burning desire for revenge (or to get the Poms to shut the f^ck up), I wanted to see Australia do well and regain them.
What made me homesick was that it was being held at the Gabba, which is in the Queensland city of Brisbane - where my family largely lives.
For me the first Test of the summer has always signalled the start of summer. The weather's heating up nicely and the pool is looking more and more attractive as the days roll into December. And what a month December is! My birthday at the start, Christmas parties and cricket matches the whole way through, Christmas, Boxing Day and New Year's Eve, all jammed into 31 days of pure heaven.
However this year I'll be in the UK, where the temperature is dropping (all too rapidly if you ask me), the Tests only start around midnight or so (later in some other states), and it's still at least 12 months before I see my two youngest siblings (8 and nearly 5) again.
There are bonuses though. It's said London around Christmastime is spectacular, and I do have some friends either in the area or coming back soon to make life a tick friendlier.
As for the cold, as many English say you should expect it when you come over during winter. Doesn't mean I can't whinge about it though!
Either way, this December promises to be quite the experience no matter what. Let's see how it pans out, eh?
Like many others travelling around the world, being homesick isn't something new. Every now and then something comes up that makes you feel like jumping on the next plane home to get back to the familiar; but by and large it passes.
But there was something about last night that seemed to make it hit home that yes, I was over this sid eof the world, and no, I wasn't going to be back home for a long time.
Unsurprisingly, it was the cricket.
The first day of the Ashes was on the idiot box, and like all good Australians with a burning desire for revenge (or to get the Poms to shut the f^ck up), I wanted to see Australia do well and regain them.
What made me homesick was that it was being held at the Gabba, which is in the Queensland city of Brisbane - where my family largely lives.
For me the first Test of the summer has always signalled the start of summer. The weather's heating up nicely and the pool is looking more and more attractive as the days roll into December. And what a month December is! My birthday at the start, Christmas parties and cricket matches the whole way through, Christmas, Boxing Day and New Year's Eve, all jammed into 31 days of pure heaven.
However this year I'll be in the UK, where the temperature is dropping (all too rapidly if you ask me), the Tests only start around midnight or so (later in some other states), and it's still at least 12 months before I see my two youngest siblings (8 and nearly 5) again.
There are bonuses though. It's said London around Christmastime is spectacular, and I do have some friends either in the area or coming back soon to make life a tick friendlier.
As for the cold, as many English say you should expect it when you come over during winter. Doesn't mean I can't whinge about it though!
Either way, this December promises to be quite the experience no matter what. Let's see how it pans out, eh?
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Come On Aussie, Come On, Come On
YES, it's repetitive - but certainly a lot better than that God-awful "Aussie Aussie Aussie, oi oi oi" rubbish that parts of our great country feel it necessary to foist on an all-to-suspecting world that really doesn't want to hear it again.
But the Ashes are coming, hence why the old Mojo classic should be sung with greater gusto than that two-word bore that should have died about the same time as the Olympic flame in 2000.
Actually, the Fanatics (a group of Australians that follow our sporting teams around and generally provide the most vocal support) are publishing a songbook with a series of mixed-up songs to sing back at the Poms (ok, English for those with squeamish dispositions). I'd link it, but apparently record company EMI are cracking the sads because it uses their songs as a basis, but if you Google "fanatics ashes songbook" (without the quotes) you'll get there.
But what of the game itself?
At the time of writing Australia look like they'll play Stuart Clark and Michael Clarke now that Shane Watson's been ruled out.
Watson's injury couldn't have come at a worse time, and not just for his embryonic international career (three Tests thus far).
My theory is this. Watson playing gives Australia a reasonably steady third seamer, so that he's helping out Glenn McGrath and Shane Warne by keeping things on a leash. This gives Brett Lee more chances to go all-out for a few overs at a time and make life uncomfortable for the batsmen.
But the big part of all this is that it would allow Australia to play one of Mitchell Johnson, Shaun Tait or Stuart MacGill. All three can win you matches; but by the same token they can also go for 5-6 an over.
With Watson in the team, if one of those three started going for plenty captain Ricky Ponting would still have somone fresh to stem the flow of runs.
As for the batting, Watson averages nearly 50 in first-class cricket: given the chance he could make some very handy scores down the order.
For England, they need first of all to pick Monty Panesar. He's simply head and shoulders above Ashley Giles, and can win you matches. As someone has pointed out, Giles may make 30 runs or so, but will that win you a match?
I think not.
Anyway, we'll see how things go on Thursday - come on Aussie!
But the Ashes are coming, hence why the old Mojo classic should be sung with greater gusto than that two-word bore that should have died about the same time as the Olympic flame in 2000.
Actually, the Fanatics (a group of Australians that follow our sporting teams around and generally provide the most vocal support) are publishing a songbook with a series of mixed-up songs to sing back at the Poms (ok, English for those with squeamish dispositions). I'd link it, but apparently record company EMI are cracking the sads because it uses their songs as a basis, but if you Google "fanatics ashes songbook" (without the quotes) you'll get there.
But what of the game itself?
At the time of writing Australia look like they'll play Stuart Clark and Michael Clarke now that Shane Watson's been ruled out.
Watson's injury couldn't have come at a worse time, and not just for his embryonic international career (three Tests thus far).
My theory is this. Watson playing gives Australia a reasonably steady third seamer, so that he's helping out Glenn McGrath and Shane Warne by keeping things on a leash. This gives Brett Lee more chances to go all-out for a few overs at a time and make life uncomfortable for the batsmen.
But the big part of all this is that it would allow Australia to play one of Mitchell Johnson, Shaun Tait or Stuart MacGill. All three can win you matches; but by the same token they can also go for 5-6 an over.
With Watson in the team, if one of those three started going for plenty captain Ricky Ponting would still have somone fresh to stem the flow of runs.
As for the batting, Watson averages nearly 50 in first-class cricket: given the chance he could make some very handy scores down the order.
For England, they need first of all to pick Monty Panesar. He's simply head and shoulders above Ashley Giles, and can win you matches. As someone has pointed out, Giles may make 30 runs or so, but will that win you a match?
I think not.
Anyway, we'll see how things go on Thursday - come on Aussie!
Friday, November 03, 2006
I Might Arrive But I'll Be Gone The Very Next Day...
AS I may have mentioned one or two thousand times before, I've just finished up travelling around Europe as a tour guide - or on-board guide as the boss would prefer us to say.
When I first mentioned I got the job (which happily coincided with my 25th birthday and Australia qualifying for the soccer World Cup), most people's first comments were along the lines that it would be a dream job with plenty of "fringe benefits" (most people were reluctant to further explain just what they thought those fringe benefits would be though).
As things turned out, it truly was the dream job. I got to travel Europe for six months (seven if you include some of the most intensive training I've ever come across), meet an absolute truckload of people (good, bad and very ugly), and generally have not just a good time, but THE best time.
I don't think I'll ever beat some of the experiences, including the following:
When I first mentioned I got the job (which happily coincided with my 25th birthday and Australia qualifying for the soccer World Cup), most people's first comments were along the lines that it would be a dream job with plenty of "fringe benefits" (most people were reluctant to further explain just what they thought those fringe benefits would be though).
As things turned out, it truly was the dream job. I got to travel Europe for six months (seven if you include some of the most intensive training I've ever come across), meet an absolute truckload of people (good, bad and very ugly), and generally have not just a good time, but THE best time.
I don't think I'll ever beat some of the experiences, including the following:
- The night "Little John" (he's actually quite tall) and I took around 31 people into San Sebastian. While the fact that around 26 of those people were of the fairer sex does slightly come into it, I'd spent a couple of days off with a lot of them in Madrid just before heading north, while I already knew a lot of the others. A great night that finished around 0430 the next morning, with me back up at 0730 to take people to Bordeaux. The night also had a sequel when I had to come back and everyone came out again. Great nights, great people.
- Swiss National Day on top of a chalet in Lauterbrunnen in Switzerland. To hear the fireworks reverberate off the Lauterbrunnen Valley was something else - even if I was a touch annoying the next day as a passenger down to Nice!
- Each and every time a passnger came up to me and thanked me for doing a good job. As with anything else, it's always good to get good feedback, and even though I may have fobbed off plenty when they tried to compliment me, rest assured it was always appreciated!
But that's not to say there's weren't a few downers.
Discounting the times I brought things on myself (late-night drinking, late for coach etc), the job was at a very basic level a series of one-night stands with thousands of different people. Whereas as a passenger you generally kept catching up with people, as a guide any plans to catch up may be derailed at any time if the boss decides to change your sequence (around six times for August).
Meet someone special and your reward is a series of text messages or e-mails in an effort to stay in touch. Make great friends, and say goodbye each time you leave because you just don't know when or if you'll ever see them again.
But I digress. It truly was the dream job - you only had to see people's faces light up when they saw you sitting in the front seat to realise that yep, might just've done good.
Friday, October 20, 2006
It's Good News Week...
YES ladies and gentlemen, I'm now in the process of re-acquainting myself with the wonders of world after nearly seven months wrapped up in the coccoon that was my job.
And what a seven months it's been! Possibly the biggest (and certainly least expected) news story during that time would have to be the untimely passing of Steve Irwin after a stingray got a bit scared of the khaki suit swimming above it. Most people will remember where they were when they heard Irwin died. In my case it was at a services stop between Nice and Avignon in southern France on the same day I heard my brother was being posted overseas and my boss found out I'd fucked up in a very big way. Although everyone probably expected Irwin to go by death by wildlife, who'dve thunk a stingray would do the trick? Coincidentally a US man is in a critical condition after a stingray jumped on his boat and stabbed him. Seems they have the taste of blood...
Soon after Australia was hit by the death of motor-racing legend Peter Brock, again doing something he loved doing (Cagey, please keep your hands off yourself). Seems bizarre to think they're both gone, but that's the way of the world.
UK readers will probably have kept up to date with the Big Brother 7 fun and games - even at a distance they've seemed somewhat unreal: which, it turns out, it was. The big-name couple has split up, which registers a 0.000000001 on the shock-o-meter. I mean really, who'dve thought that a relationship with tens of millions of people watching their every move (and that was when they were out of the house) would last? Plenty apparently.
Then of course there's been the fun and games associated with "Brangelina" - the unholy beast formed when Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie hooked up. I know they're both very famous people, and that between them they've probably stimulated more fantasies amongst the people of the world than marijuana, but seriously, calm down people!
Throw in the 2006 World Cup where Australia was finally making it's follow-up appearance to their 1974 World Cup. Some good performances against some quality teams meant we got through to the round of 16, only to be denied by some incredible diving from the Italians. Seriously, these guys are like the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers - get within three feet and they'll jump around like a dying kangaroo.
Then there was the truly frightening news that North Korea had got itself a nuke. These guys are so scary and unpredictable that they make Saddam Hussein look like a meek little pussy cat. Of all the countries in the world that we know have nukes, these are the fuckers most likely to give the world the collective finger and fire away.
Hopefully now that I've re-emerged back into Reality, things will start going back to normal - starting with Australia winning back the Ashes. Now that'd be useful!
And what a seven months it's been! Possibly the biggest (and certainly least expected) news story during that time would have to be the untimely passing of Steve Irwin after a stingray got a bit scared of the khaki suit swimming above it. Most people will remember where they were when they heard Irwin died. In my case it was at a services stop between Nice and Avignon in southern France on the same day I heard my brother was being posted overseas and my boss found out I'd fucked up in a very big way. Although everyone probably expected Irwin to go by death by wildlife, who'dve thunk a stingray would do the trick? Coincidentally a US man is in a critical condition after a stingray jumped on his boat and stabbed him. Seems they have the taste of blood...
Soon after Australia was hit by the death of motor-racing legend Peter Brock, again doing something he loved doing (Cagey, please keep your hands off yourself). Seems bizarre to think they're both gone, but that's the way of the world.
UK readers will probably have kept up to date with the Big Brother 7 fun and games - even at a distance they've seemed somewhat unreal: which, it turns out, it was. The big-name couple has split up, which registers a 0.000000001 on the shock-o-meter. I mean really, who'dve thought that a relationship with tens of millions of people watching their every move (and that was when they were out of the house) would last? Plenty apparently.
Then of course there's been the fun and games associated with "Brangelina" - the unholy beast formed when Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie hooked up. I know they're both very famous people, and that between them they've probably stimulated more fantasies amongst the people of the world than marijuana, but seriously, calm down people!
Throw in the 2006 World Cup where Australia was finally making it's follow-up appearance to their 1974 World Cup. Some good performances against some quality teams meant we got through to the round of 16, only to be denied by some incredible diving from the Italians. Seriously, these guys are like the Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers - get within three feet and they'll jump around like a dying kangaroo.
Then there was the truly frightening news that North Korea had got itself a nuke. These guys are so scary and unpredictable that they make Saddam Hussein look like a meek little pussy cat. Of all the countries in the world that we know have nukes, these are the fuckers most likely to give the world the collective finger and fire away.
Hopefully now that I've re-emerged back into Reality, things will start going back to normal - starting with Australia winning back the Ashes. Now that'd be useful!
Thursday, October 19, 2006
What Do You Get When You Fall In Love?
liALL you get is lies and pain and sorrow; to paraphrase the immortal Burt Bacharach and Hal David.
One of the interesting facets of travelling around Europe and meeting an absolute truckload of people is that there are times when you get to see them at their most human, their most vunerable.
Sometimes this is when something bad has happened - like when a passport goes missing - although the majority of the time it's when someone is around a member of the opposite sex they quite fancy.
Gone may be the devil-may-care attitude that normally applies, replaced with a bumbling attitude that often causes the object of their affections to forget what it was that was attractive about them in the first place. Likewise, two shy people may begin to really open up after meeting each other: a match made in heaven so to speak. Seeing someones face light up when they talk about their absent other half is something everyone should be made to watch when they're feeling blue (unless it's because of a break-up of course. Then it's penguin videos!).
What really gets my back up though are people cheating or generally being dishonest.
I have to say this partially comes from the bitter personal experience of seeing a marriage close to me disintegrate because one person couldn't stay faithful for whatever reason, while I've seen many another person almost in tears because someone they had feelings showed blatant disregard for them.
No matter what the problems are in a relationship*, it seems cowardly to just write it off without concern for the other party. If they're making an effort to patch things up, the other person needs to be honest and call time face-to-face.
Too many people begin agreeing with Bacharach and David's lyrics at the start of this post otherwise.
*Yes Cagey, I'm aware of the fact that me giving relationship advice is like asking George W. Bush for help in an IQ test...
One of the interesting facets of travelling around Europe and meeting an absolute truckload of people is that there are times when you get to see them at their most human, their most vunerable.
Sometimes this is when something bad has happened - like when a passport goes missing - although the majority of the time it's when someone is around a member of the opposite sex they quite fancy.
Gone may be the devil-may-care attitude that normally applies, replaced with a bumbling attitude that often causes the object of their affections to forget what it was that was attractive about them in the first place. Likewise, two shy people may begin to really open up after meeting each other: a match made in heaven so to speak. Seeing someones face light up when they talk about their absent other half is something everyone should be made to watch when they're feeling blue (unless it's because of a break-up of course. Then it's penguin videos!).
What really gets my back up though are people cheating or generally being dishonest.
I have to say this partially comes from the bitter personal experience of seeing a marriage close to me disintegrate because one person couldn't stay faithful for whatever reason, while I've seen many another person almost in tears because someone they had feelings showed blatant disregard for them.
No matter what the problems are in a relationship*, it seems cowardly to just write it off without concern for the other party. If they're making an effort to patch things up, the other person needs to be honest and call time face-to-face.
Too many people begin agreeing with Bacharach and David's lyrics at the start of this post otherwise.
*Yes Cagey, I'm aware of the fact that me giving relationship advice is like asking George W. Bush for help in an IQ test...
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
The Heat Is Off...
YOU can (and many people do) say a lot of things about Port Douglas.
I can now add to that list: six months in North Queensland's swankiest town does NOT prepare you for English weather.
Then again there's very little in Australia that can prepare you for England in general. For one, the Aussie dollar isn't quite worthless but approaching that stage; the people can dress rather inappropriately for the climatic conditions; and most disturbingly, the beer is warm.
Come to think of it, it's easy to see the appeal of warm beer in cold weather. This doesn't absolve the English completely, but does give a reason for what many Australian would consider a crime against humanity.
As would be expected, the people are a lot different too. In London it's only tourists and expats that start conversations on the Tube, while out in Cheltenham at least the girls got around in tiny skirts and singlet tops. To give an idea of how cold it was, when we walked home it was through the snow...
There are, though, many good things about England. For one, they don't fuck around with their Sunday pub roasts. They can be very friendly (if hard to understand sometimes), and are as fond of a drink or thirty as those from thirstier climes.
Now if I could understand just why Neighbours, Peter Andre and Fosters are so popular over here, I'd be a lot happier...
I can now add to that list: six months in North Queensland's swankiest town does NOT prepare you for English weather.
Then again there's very little in Australia that can prepare you for England in general. For one, the Aussie dollar isn't quite worthless but approaching that stage; the people can dress rather inappropriately for the climatic conditions; and most disturbingly, the beer is warm.
Come to think of it, it's easy to see the appeal of warm beer in cold weather. This doesn't absolve the English completely, but does give a reason for what many Australian would consider a crime against humanity.
As would be expected, the people are a lot different too. In London it's only tourists and expats that start conversations on the Tube, while out in Cheltenham at least the girls got around in tiny skirts and singlet tops. To give an idea of how cold it was, when we walked home it was through the snow...
There are, though, many good things about England. For one, they don't fuck around with their Sunday pub roasts. They can be very friendly (if hard to understand sometimes), and are as fond of a drink or thirty as those from thirstier climes.
Now if I could understand just why Neighbours, Peter Andre and Fosters are so popular over here, I'd be a lot happier...
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Don't Press Your Luck...
THE headlines should have, at the very least, piqued an interest.
Most Australian news websites lead with the story of how five teenagers had been killed and at least seven injured in a car accident in Victoria.
That's sad. Who won the footy?
It wasn't until later on when my Mum called, almost in tears, and asked if my cousins had been among those affected in the accident that it dawned on me: the accident was near Mildura, a place with some significance for my family as it's kind of where Dad's family lives (to explain fully would take too long).
Thankfully none of my relatives were there when the accident occurred, but that doesn't mean they didn't know those killed.
Bit close for comfort.
In the aftermath of the accident - in which Shane Hirst (16), Abby Hirst (17), Stevie-Lee Weight (15), Cassandra Manner (16) and Cory Dowling (16) died instantly and Josephine Calvi (16) in Royal Adelaide Hospital the next day - many in Mildura and the surrounding towns are trying to come to terms with losing so many young people that, in normal circumstances, would be enjoying their youth.
From the reports that have come out, it seems as though the accident happened when a car lost control, crashing into the group walking along the side of the road. A man has been charged and is in custody.
What the whole thing does rather painfully show is that a vehicle can be a lethal weapon. Most will have stories about a how a driver thought he'd (and it is generally a he) test his limits on a corner and "came that close to losing it man".
Occasionally the person will push their luck a little bit too far. Sometimes they can walk away; sometimes their families are left wondering why.
But what happens when someone pushes their luck near a group of people?
Have a look at the photo published on The Age website in one of their stories about the accident and the aftermath. It shows Stevie-Lee, Cassandra and Josephine smiling for the camera, just hours before someone pushed their luck a little bit too far.
Bad move.
Most Australian news websites lead with the story of how five teenagers had been killed and at least seven injured in a car accident in Victoria.
That's sad. Who won the footy?
It wasn't until later on when my Mum called, almost in tears, and asked if my cousins had been among those affected in the accident that it dawned on me: the accident was near Mildura, a place with some significance for my family as it's kind of where Dad's family lives (to explain fully would take too long).
Thankfully none of my relatives were there when the accident occurred, but that doesn't mean they didn't know those killed.
Bit close for comfort.
In the aftermath of the accident - in which Shane Hirst (16), Abby Hirst (17), Stevie-Lee Weight (15), Cassandra Manner (16) and Cory Dowling (16) died instantly and Josephine Calvi (16) in Royal Adelaide Hospital the next day - many in Mildura and the surrounding towns are trying to come to terms with losing so many young people that, in normal circumstances, would be enjoying their youth.
From the reports that have come out, it seems as though the accident happened when a car lost control, crashing into the group walking along the side of the road. A man has been charged and is in custody.
What the whole thing does rather painfully show is that a vehicle can be a lethal weapon. Most will have stories about a how a driver thought he'd (and it is generally a he) test his limits on a corner and "came that close to losing it man".
Occasionally the person will push their luck a little bit too far. Sometimes they can walk away; sometimes their families are left wondering why.
But what happens when someone pushes their luck near a group of people?
Have a look at the photo published on The Age website in one of their stories about the accident and the aftermath. It shows Stevie-Lee, Cassandra and Josephine smiling for the camera, just hours before someone pushed their luck a little bit too far.
Bad move.
Friday, February 17, 2006
Cheer Up Sleepy Jean...
WE DID some bad karaoke the other night.
Actually, I'm beginning to wonder whether or not there is any other kind of karaoke to begin with. Sure, there are people who can actually sing and sing well, but for reason the fun goes out of it then. I mean, who wants to sing just after Celine Dion's got up and belted out a few classics (or even be in the room after she's finished)?
The night compared favourably to Sunday night, where Australian Torah Bright not only failed to win a snowboarding gold in Turin, but the pub that has a big sign up advertising Sunday karaoke was closed for the night.
Bastards.
In the end it was a bit like a spotty teenager about to swap seminal fluids for the first time: we talked about how great it was going to be, what we were going to try, who'd be the best etc.
End result? One giant fizzle.
It's always interesting watching people sing karaoke, or even deliberate whether they're going to sing in the first place.
Such a person always begins the night by saying flat out there's no way known they're getting up and singing, they're really really bad at it and everyone will leave if they do sing.
A few drinks later, singing goes from being a definite no to a maybe so; many more drinks later confirms that our intrepid hero really is, in fact, a crap singer. But they get up and have a go.
This is a hell of a lot better than one friend who actually did a runner just before we got up to sing. One minute he's there, next minute he's disappeared faster than Harold Holt swimming in Portsea.
Me? I never have much trouble getting up and singing (Frank Sinatra's New York, New York, Elton John's Crocodile Rock and The Monkees Daydream Believer for those playing at home). Reports vary as to the quality, from the Cagey "you're shit" to the "yeah, you're not too bad" (anyone wishing to compare should listen to when I sing with a brother).
All in all though it's generally a fun night out (especially while drunk) - except when people keep singing Britney Spears!
Actually, I'm beginning to wonder whether or not there is any other kind of karaoke to begin with. Sure, there are people who can actually sing and sing well, but for reason the fun goes out of it then. I mean, who wants to sing just after Celine Dion's got up and belted out a few classics (or even be in the room after she's finished)?
The night compared favourably to Sunday night, where Australian Torah Bright not only failed to win a snowboarding gold in Turin, but the pub that has a big sign up advertising Sunday karaoke was closed for the night.
Bastards.
In the end it was a bit like a spotty teenager about to swap seminal fluids for the first time: we talked about how great it was going to be, what we were going to try, who'd be the best etc.
End result? One giant fizzle.
It's always interesting watching people sing karaoke, or even deliberate whether they're going to sing in the first place.
Such a person always begins the night by saying flat out there's no way known they're getting up and singing, they're really really bad at it and everyone will leave if they do sing.
A few drinks later, singing goes from being a definite no to a maybe so; many more drinks later confirms that our intrepid hero really is, in fact, a crap singer. But they get up and have a go.
This is a hell of a lot better than one friend who actually did a runner just before we got up to sing. One minute he's there, next minute he's disappeared faster than Harold Holt swimming in Portsea.
Me? I never have much trouble getting up and singing (Frank Sinatra's New York, New York, Elton John's Crocodile Rock and The Monkees Daydream Believer for those playing at home). Reports vary as to the quality, from the Cagey "you're shit" to the "yeah, you're not too bad" (anyone wishing to compare should listen to when I sing with a brother).
All in all though it's generally a fun night out (especially while drunk) - except when people keep singing Britney Spears!
Thursday, February 09, 2006
The Great Debate Begins...
THIS weekend the first round of the expanded Super 14 competition kicks off. Of particular interest to many will (in Australia at least) will be new team Western Force playing the ACT Brumbies at home, while the Queensland Reds host the NSW Waratahs at the Ground Formerly Known As Lang Park.
The 'Tahs have never won in Brisbane in the old Super 12; mind you they had never beaten Queensland full stop until last year.
But this post isn't about that.
No, with the start of the Super 14 signalling we're about to hit colder weather, it's time to dust off the old arguments as to which is the better football code.
Given that you're never going to be able to get a cross-section of people to agree on what's the better code (unless they're all from Victoria), SAJ Stuff is now proud to present the pros, cons and otherwise about the major football codes...
Australian Rules Football
A strange game originally invented to keep cricketers fit during the winter. Described as "aerial ping-pong" by those from north of the Murray, the object of the game is to kick an oval ball between some posts. Points scored depend on which set of posts you kick it through.
Strengths: Is a fast-moving, sometimes very free-flowing game. Players need to be able to catch a ball, run with a ball and kick a ball, sometimes all at once.
Weaknesses: In wetter conditions can resemble a game of "stacks on" rather than a skillful ball game. Some also bemoan the lack of really big hits, and the fact that with four posts to kick between, Aussie rules is the only code where you get points for missing. Lack of representative games at highest level also hurts.
Trivia: The Melbourne Australian Rules Football Club is reckoned to be the oldest football club - of any code - in the world.
Rugby League
A professional version of rugby union set up largely because union was amateur for a great many years. Going great guns in Australia until Rupert Murdoch's Super League came and ballsed things up in 1995. Players try to put the ball over the opposition line for a try.
Strengths: Easily the most popular (in terms of crowd support and TV numbers) of the football codes in NSW and Queensland. Big hits, especially in the State of Origin, always provide a highlight. Recent improvements by New Zealand finally give Australia some competition.
Weaknesses: Game seems to have a problem with players and alcohol combining then ganging up on XX-chromosoned people. Short-sightedness during the Super League era meant that teams in Perth and Adelaide had three and two years respectively in which to start making finals. They didn't, so they got cut, leaving league fans bewildered. Recent improvements by New Zealand means they can now win things and gloat even more when they beat Australia.
Trivia: Former Australian cricket great Victor Trumper helped form the NSW Rugby League back in 1908 as players looked to play a game where they would be paid compensation if they were injured.
Rugby Union
Newly professional game trying to shake off its amateur roots. Has grown in Australia recently, as shown by the newly-formed Western Force entering the expanded Super 14 competition. A code where winning the World Cup actually means something. Like rugby league, players try to plant the ball over the opposition line, although the English prefer to get someone like Jonny Wilkinson to kick it over the crossbar every time the other teams fouls.
Strengths: This is a truly multi-national sport. Australia (twice), New Zealand, South Africa and England have all won the World Cup, with Wales, France, Ireland and Argentina below them. The Super 12 competition attracted a lot of fans, with more expected with the expanded comp.
Weaknesses: Recent losses by the Wallabies means that it's not just the Poms and Kiwis laughing at us: it's the Welsh, French and South Africans as well. Game can be very boring when teams just go for the three points for a penalty as opposed to the potential seven for a try and conversion (not pointing the finger at anyone, but the English know who they are).
Trivia: In the World Cup teams play for the William Webb Ellis Trophy, which is named after the bloke who got jack of playing soccer, picked the ball up and began running with it, an event considered the birth of rugby.
Soccer
Yes, I know most countries call it football, but when you've got another three codes of football it's a good idea to differentiate between them. Soccer is played by so many countries that to even make the World Cup is an achievement in itself (just ask the Socceroos!).
Strengths: With so many countries playing, it's easy for a half-decent player to travel the world, plying his/her trade. Also the hardest World Cup to win - only teams from Europe and South America have actually managed it. Also benefits from being so easy to play - all you need is a kickable round ball.
Weaknesses: Some players appear to be under the misapprehension that they're trying out for national diving squads by jumping three metres in the air every time someone's foot gets near their own. Others pretend they're Mafia bosses by surrounding the ref every time a decision goes against them.
Trivia: Much to the disbelief of every Englishman, the last time Australia and England played the Socceroos ran out 3-1 winners. In England. The English also failed to get past the might of Northern Ireland in 2005, losing 1-0 in Belfast.
So there you have it folks: all the facts. So which is the better code? Post the best comment and you could win some hearty congratulations...
The 'Tahs have never won in Brisbane in the old Super 12; mind you they had never beaten Queensland full stop until last year.
But this post isn't about that.
No, with the start of the Super 14 signalling we're about to hit colder weather, it's time to dust off the old arguments as to which is the better football code.
Given that you're never going to be able to get a cross-section of people to agree on what's the better code (unless they're all from Victoria), SAJ Stuff is now proud to present the pros, cons and otherwise about the major football codes...
Australian Rules Football
A strange game originally invented to keep cricketers fit during the winter. Described as "aerial ping-pong" by those from north of the Murray, the object of the game is to kick an oval ball between some posts. Points scored depend on which set of posts you kick it through.
Strengths: Is a fast-moving, sometimes very free-flowing game. Players need to be able to catch a ball, run with a ball and kick a ball, sometimes all at once.
Weaknesses: In wetter conditions can resemble a game of "stacks on" rather than a skillful ball game. Some also bemoan the lack of really big hits, and the fact that with four posts to kick between, Aussie rules is the only code where you get points for missing. Lack of representative games at highest level also hurts.
Trivia: The Melbourne Australian Rules Football Club is reckoned to be the oldest football club - of any code - in the world.
Rugby League
A professional version of rugby union set up largely because union was amateur for a great many years. Going great guns in Australia until Rupert Murdoch's Super League came and ballsed things up in 1995. Players try to put the ball over the opposition line for a try.
Strengths: Easily the most popular (in terms of crowd support and TV numbers) of the football codes in NSW and Queensland. Big hits, especially in the State of Origin, always provide a highlight. Recent improvements by New Zealand finally give Australia some competition.
Weaknesses: Game seems to have a problem with players and alcohol combining then ganging up on XX-chromosoned people. Short-sightedness during the Super League era meant that teams in Perth and Adelaide had three and two years respectively in which to start making finals. They didn't, so they got cut, leaving league fans bewildered. Recent improvements by New Zealand means they can now win things and gloat even more when they beat Australia.
Trivia: Former Australian cricket great Victor Trumper helped form the NSW Rugby League back in 1908 as players looked to play a game where they would be paid compensation if they were injured.
Rugby Union
Newly professional game trying to shake off its amateur roots. Has grown in Australia recently, as shown by the newly-formed Western Force entering the expanded Super 14 competition. A code where winning the World Cup actually means something. Like rugby league, players try to plant the ball over the opposition line, although the English prefer to get someone like Jonny Wilkinson to kick it over the crossbar every time the other teams fouls.
Strengths: This is a truly multi-national sport. Australia (twice), New Zealand, South Africa and England have all won the World Cup, with Wales, France, Ireland and Argentina below them. The Super 12 competition attracted a lot of fans, with more expected with the expanded comp.
Weaknesses: Recent losses by the Wallabies means that it's not just the Poms and Kiwis laughing at us: it's the Welsh, French and South Africans as well. Game can be very boring when teams just go for the three points for a penalty as opposed to the potential seven for a try and conversion (not pointing the finger at anyone, but the English know who they are).
Trivia: In the World Cup teams play for the William Webb Ellis Trophy, which is named after the bloke who got jack of playing soccer, picked the ball up and began running with it, an event considered the birth of rugby.
Soccer
Yes, I know most countries call it football, but when you've got another three codes of football it's a good idea to differentiate between them. Soccer is played by so many countries that to even make the World Cup is an achievement in itself (just ask the Socceroos!).
Strengths: With so many countries playing, it's easy for a half-decent player to travel the world, plying his/her trade. Also the hardest World Cup to win - only teams from Europe and South America have actually managed it. Also benefits from being so easy to play - all you need is a kickable round ball.
Weaknesses: Some players appear to be under the misapprehension that they're trying out for national diving squads by jumping three metres in the air every time someone's foot gets near their own. Others pretend they're Mafia bosses by surrounding the ref every time a decision goes against them.
Trivia: Much to the disbelief of every Englishman, the last time Australia and England played the Socceroos ran out 3-1 winners. In England. The English also failed to get past the might of Northern Ireland in 2005, losing 1-0 in Belfast.
So there you have it folks: all the facts. So which is the better code? Post the best comment and you could win some hearty congratulations...
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
We Are One, But We Are Many...
RACISM.
It's an ugly word, isn't it? Very ugly - yet it's been all over the news here in Australia recently.
First off we had the Cronulla riots, where a big angry mob decided to beat the living shit out of anyone who looked like they were Middle Eastern, followed up by another big angry mob that decided to beat the living shit out of anything and everything.
Just when that little escapade was over, the South African cricket team popped in for a visit and were welcomed with a few questionable comments. Reports have also come through that some of the Sri Lankan players were also racially abused, although coach Tom Moody denies this is the case.
One story in today's Sydney Morning Herald gave an example of racial abuse by a group of supporters at the Sydney Cricket Ground (SCG). This really is looking glum, eh?
Yet as many who have met Australians or been to Australia would know, these people are in the minority. Cricket Australia chief executive James Sutherland described the trouble at the cricket as "shameful behaviour of maybe half a dozen half-wits". Chances are you can add that they were pissed as a fart as well.
Yet at the one game I've attended at the SCG, the spectators where I was generally had a bloody good time. The game was close (decided by a Brett Lee 6 with three balls to go), and supporters from both sides enjoyed cheering when their team did well. The only downer for mind was when one of the young couple next to me started calling the Indians "curry-munchers", to which I protested. Everyone had had fun without resorting to that level: why stoop there now? For the record when Lee hit the 6 all the Aussies stood as one and chanted "look at the scoreboard!" instead of some stereotypical rubbish. As I say, a great day out.
But these are minor compared to the problems Sydney is having with a certain sub-section of its community.
It has been said that the reason a bunch of drunk "Anglos" went and beat up "wogs" was becase groups of young males had been harassing beach-goers in Cronulla.
The Cooma-Monaro Express' infamous Snowman put the differences between Sydney and Cooma rather bluntly:
"ISN'T it amazing? In Cronulla we have gangs of so-called Australian bashing and harassing "lebs" or anyone who might be of middle eastern descent. In Cooma, we have gangs of people rushing to a Lebanese restaurant for completely different reason - the food and hospitality are top-notch."
"WE might have to put up with some limitations in the bush, but at least in Cooma, we appreciate multiculturalism and embrace the differences which make life more interesting."
Of course, the riot sparked the inevitable revenge attacks, where witnesses say they were too scared to confront the men, while debate rages about how much the police have done to try and apprehend those involved in the revenge attacks (as opposed to the earlier, televised attacks).
These young hoons (calling them men would be an affront to men everywhere) say that they are "Lebs" (Lebanese), and that women wearing revealing clothing is against their culture.
Yet Lebanese-born Joseph Wakim makes a very good point in the Sydney Morning Herald when he says:
It's an ugly word, isn't it? Very ugly - yet it's been all over the news here in Australia recently.
First off we had the Cronulla riots, where a big angry mob decided to beat the living shit out of anyone who looked like they were Middle Eastern, followed up by another big angry mob that decided to beat the living shit out of anything and everything.
Just when that little escapade was over, the South African cricket team popped in for a visit and were welcomed with a few questionable comments. Reports have also come through that some of the Sri Lankan players were also racially abused, although coach Tom Moody denies this is the case.
One story in today's Sydney Morning Herald gave an example of racial abuse by a group of supporters at the Sydney Cricket Ground (SCG). This really is looking glum, eh?
Yet as many who have met Australians or been to Australia would know, these people are in the minority. Cricket Australia chief executive James Sutherland described the trouble at the cricket as "shameful behaviour of maybe half a dozen half-wits". Chances are you can add that they were pissed as a fart as well.
Yet at the one game I've attended at the SCG, the spectators where I was generally had a bloody good time. The game was close (decided by a Brett Lee 6 with three balls to go), and supporters from both sides enjoyed cheering when their team did well. The only downer for mind was when one of the young couple next to me started calling the Indians "curry-munchers", to which I protested. Everyone had had fun without resorting to that level: why stoop there now? For the record when Lee hit the 6 all the Aussies stood as one and chanted "look at the scoreboard!" instead of some stereotypical rubbish. As I say, a great day out.
But these are minor compared to the problems Sydney is having with a certain sub-section of its community.
It has been said that the reason a bunch of drunk "Anglos" went and beat up "wogs" was becase groups of young males had been harassing beach-goers in Cronulla.
The Cooma-Monaro Express' infamous Snowman put the differences between Sydney and Cooma rather bluntly:
"ISN'T it amazing? In Cronulla we have gangs of so-called Australian bashing and harassing "lebs" or anyone who might be of middle eastern descent. In Cooma, we have gangs of people rushing to a Lebanese restaurant for completely different reason - the food and hospitality are top-notch."
"WE might have to put up with some limitations in the bush, but at least in Cooma, we appreciate multiculturalism and embrace the differences which make life more interesting."
Of course, the riot sparked the inevitable revenge attacks, where witnesses say they were too scared to confront the men, while debate rages about how much the police have done to try and apprehend those involved in the revenge attacks (as opposed to the earlier, televised attacks).
These young hoons (calling them men would be an affront to men everywhere) say that they are "Lebs" (Lebanese), and that women wearing revealing clothing is against their culture.
Yet Lebanese-born Joseph Wakim makes a very good point in the Sydney Morning Herald when he says:
"There is a perception that if offenders label themselves as Lebanese, rather than Australian, then we should treat them accordingly. However, there is nothing Lebanese about their behaviour. Ask anyone who has been to Lebanon, or watch Lebanese TV. The local youths in question are a hybrid subculture akin to the chick-chasing characters portrayed in Fat Pizza."
"They over-identify with the American rappers and their themes of rejection, victimhood and revenge. Their attire - baggy jeans, brand-name jackets, athletics shoes and baseball cups - represents their hip-hop heroes. The Bankstown boys are more likely to blend into the Bronx than Beirut. In Lebanon, their behaviour would not be tolerated. They would be rejected as shameful misfits and deported back to Australia."
Last I checked, you could choose your nationality. Last I checked, being Australian means that you're tolerant of other people.
In this blog I make a lot of references to songs, and the one mentioned in the title of this post is perhaps the one we should remember (and even one to sing during the World Cup in Germany later this year). I'll only link to the lyrics here (PDF file), but here's the chorus:
We are one, but we are many
And from all the lands on Earth we come
We share a dream, and sing with one voice
I am, you are, we are Australian.
Sums it up for me.
Monday, January 30, 2006
Crashing's Not Compulsory, But...
I'VE just come back from a fairly lengthy road trip down some of Australia's busiest highways: the Pacific Highway linking Brisbane and Sydney and part of the Hume Highway linking Sydney and Melbourne.
Both these highways have reputations for being quite dangerous, and with good reason: according to figures on an NRMA website, 453 people died on the Pacific Highway and 153 on the Hume Highway between 1994 and 2003 (figures from the NSW-run RTA, which would suggest Queensland and Victorian fatalities were not included).
If this seems like a lot, rest assured you're not alone.
But why would the fatalities (and "regular" crashes for that matter) be so high? Simple fact is that neither abovementioned highway is dual carriageway (four lanes; two each way).
It seems silly and it is: Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane are the three largest cities in Australia (around 4.2 million, 3.5 million and 1.7 million respectively). The Pacific Highway itself had just under 10,000 crashes between 1994 and 2003, a figure which you'd think would encourage politicians of all colours to fund upgrades.
Nope.
This archived article on the Sydney Morning Herald website suggests that while they may fast-track the upgrades of the Pacific Highway, this could be funded by a toll on non-local road users. Apparently private sector funding is needed to speed the whole thing up.
Let's check those figures again: nearly 10,000 crashes in 10 years.
Given the cost to the state and national economies of people recovering or grieving after accidents, you would think that both governments would be fighting over who was going to chip in the most, but no.
Of course it isn't any government's fault that there are so many crashes: John Howard or Morris Iemma aren't driving all those cars.
What isn't helping is the idiotic behaviour of many on the road, especially those sections where you have to wait for overtaking lanes to safely get past those going a bit slower.
Theoretically these cars should be doing the same speed throughout (obviously a touch quicker downhill), but this isn't always the case.
One idiot (there really is no other way to describe him) would do 90-95km/h normally, only to speed up to 105-110km/h when there was an overtaking lane. Given the speed limit on that stretch of road was 100km/h, it wasn't very bright at all. I ended up hitting 120km/h to get past and save myself the indignity of a heart attack at 25.
There were others that felt being overtaken was a personal affront and would do their best to stop you overtaking, and then those who just had to be difficult at every available opportunity.
So here's the challenge: for state and federal governments to fix up the highways, and for road users to use a bit of common sense.
It'll cut the toll.
Both these highways have reputations for being quite dangerous, and with good reason: according to figures on an NRMA website, 453 people died on the Pacific Highway and 153 on the Hume Highway between 1994 and 2003 (figures from the NSW-run RTA, which would suggest Queensland and Victorian fatalities were not included).
If this seems like a lot, rest assured you're not alone.
But why would the fatalities (and "regular" crashes for that matter) be so high? Simple fact is that neither abovementioned highway is dual carriageway (four lanes; two each way).
It seems silly and it is: Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane are the three largest cities in Australia (around 4.2 million, 3.5 million and 1.7 million respectively). The Pacific Highway itself had just under 10,000 crashes between 1994 and 2003, a figure which you'd think would encourage politicians of all colours to fund upgrades.
Nope.
This archived article on the Sydney Morning Herald website suggests that while they may fast-track the upgrades of the Pacific Highway, this could be funded by a toll on non-local road users. Apparently private sector funding is needed to speed the whole thing up.
Let's check those figures again: nearly 10,000 crashes in 10 years.
Given the cost to the state and national economies of people recovering or grieving after accidents, you would think that both governments would be fighting over who was going to chip in the most, but no.
Of course it isn't any government's fault that there are so many crashes: John Howard or Morris Iemma aren't driving all those cars.
What isn't helping is the idiotic behaviour of many on the road, especially those sections where you have to wait for overtaking lanes to safely get past those going a bit slower.
Theoretically these cars should be doing the same speed throughout (obviously a touch quicker downhill), but this isn't always the case.
One idiot (there really is no other way to describe him) would do 90-95km/h normally, only to speed up to 105-110km/h when there was an overtaking lane. Given the speed limit on that stretch of road was 100km/h, it wasn't very bright at all. I ended up hitting 120km/h to get past and save myself the indignity of a heart attack at 25.
There were others that felt being overtaken was a personal affront and would do their best to stop you overtaking, and then those who just had to be difficult at every available opportunity.
So here's the challenge: for state and federal governments to fix up the highways, and for road users to use a bit of common sense.
It'll cut the toll.
Friday, January 13, 2006
And Now For Something Not Entirely Unexpected...
IN a move that can best be described as stupid, cinemas in Townsville and Rockhampton won't be showing the new Heath Ledger movie Brokeback Mountain.
They haven't given a full explanation as to why this is so, but apparently it's not because no-one likes Heath Ledger there, but rather because it tells the tale of two male cowboys who fall in love. With each other.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Onya guys. Just when we thought it was safe to say you're a Queenslander after Sir Joh died and Pauline Hanson faded back to nothing, a few clowns have come out and shown once again that when it comes to good old-fashioned idiots, the rest of the country's got nothing on us.
Oh sure, NSW had the wonderful Bob DoesntdriveaCarr, who seemed to think that NSW stood for Newcastle, Sydney, Woollongong; Victoria's given us Jeff Kennett and Eddie Maguire; while every other state chips in with a few mass murderers and the occasional ultra-conservative.
Seriously, it must have been agreed upon when Australia became a country in 1901: NSW and Victoria will provide most of the political leaders, Queensland will provide the freaks.
Jokes aside though, what's more concerning is the censorship issue.
It seems every time a controversial movie comes out, a group of self-important people (let's call them People Against Other People Having A Good Time, or PAOPHAGT) decide that society will fall if the movie is released to the general public.
Most of these movies have gratuitous sex, nudity, violence or (shock horror) people kissing people of the same sex.
"Our children will be corrupted," they cry out fervently. "What if our children see this?"
Yes, it would be really bad if your children saw a breast. Terrible, really. Who knows what might go through their minds.
Of course, this all overlooks that fact that if a movie is rated R (18 and over only), children can't go in and see it. Considering I've twice had my id checked to see M and MA movies (15 and over; both times when I was past 18), I fail to see how masses of teenagers are going to be able to get in, let alone impressionable children.
A family friend of ours had a very good policy with her kids when it came to higher-rated movies. Anything with a lot of violence was out, but with sex or nudity was in, largely on the basis that sex and nudity is a natural part of life, whereas violence wasn't.
I happen to think that American football is one of the most boring games in the world, but I'm not going to tell adults they shouldn't watch it because of my views.
If you don't like something or don't agree with it, don't watch it. But don't stop me from watching it either.
Postscript:
In another article on the Sydney Morning Herald website, Roadshow Films has denied it won't be releasing the film in Townsville and Rockhampton, going against earlier comments from cinema operations.
They haven't given a full explanation as to why this is so, but apparently it's not because no-one likes Heath Ledger there, but rather because it tells the tale of two male cowboys who fall in love. With each other.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Onya guys. Just when we thought it was safe to say you're a Queenslander after Sir Joh died and Pauline Hanson faded back to nothing, a few clowns have come out and shown once again that when it comes to good old-fashioned idiots, the rest of the country's got nothing on us.
Oh sure, NSW had the wonderful Bob DoesntdriveaCarr, who seemed to think that NSW stood for Newcastle, Sydney, Woollongong; Victoria's given us Jeff Kennett and Eddie Maguire; while every other state chips in with a few mass murderers and the occasional ultra-conservative.
Seriously, it must have been agreed upon when Australia became a country in 1901: NSW and Victoria will provide most of the political leaders, Queensland will provide the freaks.
Jokes aside though, what's more concerning is the censorship issue.
It seems every time a controversial movie comes out, a group of self-important people (let's call them People Against Other People Having A Good Time, or PAOPHAGT) decide that society will fall if the movie is released to the general public.
Most of these movies have gratuitous sex, nudity, violence or (shock horror) people kissing people of the same sex.
"Our children will be corrupted," they cry out fervently. "What if our children see this?"
Yes, it would be really bad if your children saw a breast. Terrible, really. Who knows what might go through their minds.
Of course, this all overlooks that fact that if a movie is rated R (18 and over only), children can't go in and see it. Considering I've twice had my id checked to see M and MA movies (15 and over; both times when I was past 18), I fail to see how masses of teenagers are going to be able to get in, let alone impressionable children.
A family friend of ours had a very good policy with her kids when it came to higher-rated movies. Anything with a lot of violence was out, but with sex or nudity was in, largely on the basis that sex and nudity is a natural part of life, whereas violence wasn't.
I happen to think that American football is one of the most boring games in the world, but I'm not going to tell adults they shouldn't watch it because of my views.
If you don't like something or don't agree with it, don't watch it. But don't stop me from watching it either.
Postscript:
In another article on the Sydney Morning Herald website, Roadshow Films has denied it won't be releasing the film in Townsville and Rockhampton, going against earlier comments from cinema operations.
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