To London and Back to the Bridges of Home

The journey back to home involved what can only be described as great pain. The first leg involved a six hour flight from Perth to Singapore, nothing too bad really, the man who sat next to me managed to say hello while simultaneously staring straight ahead, glaring at the back of the seat in front of him and not even glancing in my direction. I took this as to say 'Look I'm acknowledging your existence but I zero intentions of conversing with you', this was fine with me given the selection of films on offer too. Especially the surprising inclusion of Raging Ball, I can firmly recognise it as a masterpiece but it's still an awful film to watch, De Niro is far too convincing in playing the most unlikeable man on earth in Jake La Motta and it's just a bit unsettling really.  He really must be a psycho too to play such a realistic portrait of a nutjob.
The wait in Singapore was a welcome brief one at just a couple of hours, so I barely passed through; I did find the sight of a middle aged yuppie sitting with his mac book pro out while playing with an iPad at the same time amusing. People like him need to mugged just because they're far too smug, that's the type of stuff I used to do when i was five and got a new toy that I'd take to play with in the garden in front of all the other kids. What i was really saying was "hey everyone in the street look at how amazing i am with my new legion of doom figures"...they knew the score. The next flight was onto Heathrow and a lovely 13 hour journey it was too, bad enough by itself but unimaginably awful when you've got the biggest cretin in the world sitting right behind you. I'd put his age between 28 and 37, impossible to narrow down since he was dressed like a tool with an oversized Chicago Bulls hat on and form the moment he sat down nothing but bullshit streamed from his mouth. It actually astounded me the level of delusion that was this man had to the point i gave him several half head turns and even added the 'eye raise' to put my point completely across. He was one of those people who don't just give it the 'big lad' but talk at such a loud level so everyone else can here thinking they give a shit. The last phrase I heard him utter was ' Yeah I'm going to Scandinavia on 'business' innit and the missus is none too happy...she knows I've got an eye for the Scandinavian ladies". Eurgh....CUNT.
The rest of the flight was pretty bad, it was the first time i'd been on a jumbo and i unluckily drew the middle seat so I didn't have much room to move in. I can barely sleep in beds so that was out of the question and it was a pain in just attempting to get comfortable. So yeah...I basically just sat with my eyes closed grimacing for ten hours in utter pain and watched Invictus before that and landed back in England at 6am local time having headed off 3am UK time the previous day. It wasn't much fun. The journey onto Alfie's was another chore with the central line being full of stops due to faults so that added another 2 hours onto my total before i was finally back in Wanstead. I did of course manage to fit in one argument in the meantime, long story short being that i had the shocking audacity to graze some old bourgeois cunts leg with my backpack as he sat messaging his rent boy on his Blackberry. He then tutted. I didn't like that at all after 20 odd hours of travelling but i managed to get back fine for a tearful reunion with Alfie. It was too much for me, he cried, I cried, neighbours cried and then some local kids sang return of the mack. Suresuresure.
Him and Katie had to shoot off to work so my day was spent just lazing about really and recovering. On his return we headed over to the George for a few drinks (non-alcoholic still for me) and I told him a few taes while meeting a weird Irish guy who thought I was German. I don't know which disturbed Alfie more, the shenanigans of myself or this strange 'musician'. It was nice to see some familiar faces again though and the hospitality at Oakhall Court is always of the highest standard I must say. Thursday was much the same really with me being up at 4am despite only 4 hours sleep in two and a half days.
Friday was a bit more eventful with me having to take a trip to the tailors to get measured up for the pending Hello Wedding, it turned to be quite a trek too with me stumbling across the Priory on the way. Three months ago i'd probably have took this as a sign but I was now seven weeks sober, that wasn't going to last much longer though....The fitting went fine and I was happy to discover i had lost four inches off my waist since heading into hospital last year but I never had the guts to ask how big my head is. Not that I needed to really, his reaction told me enough, it was the biggest he'd ever come across. After that four hour trip I headed to the bottle shop to go old school buying a bottle of vodka and two sprite bottles for the events later.

With bottles in tow i met Alfie at St Pauls (after we had a little tiff) and briefly caught Nick and Max too. I man with a red mohawk and various piercings was asking for cash for a bed but if you can afford hair dye then you don't need to be begging, a ouch twat categorically told him to 'fuck off' on numerous ocassions though. I was hoping for it to kick off and hopefully both would end up dead id i'm honest, the world would be better off. After watching the France game we headed out to Hoxton and i drank my bottle of vodka far too quickly, I can't taste the booze these days but Alfie certainly could so i had to drink most of his too. This left me fucked. Probably not the smartest idea to drink a bottle of vodka after seven weeks without drink really. I didn't know what was going on the rest of the night and according to Alfie i talked absolutely shit none stop. Standard. Oh and of course i puked too. That set the tone for Saturday which was spent looking down Alfie's toilet mostly, I was so fucked i couldn't even go to the BBW so had to sit and watch the England game with Alfie's mam who had came down for the weekend. Tremendous entertainment as ever with her raging at the TV, she summed up the performance well. 'Three words Gary....they ....WERE....SHIT'.
My mindset is still very much that of a backpacker so I decided to use the Sunday being a tourist while Alfie, Katie and his mam headed out home improvement shopping. I hit all the usual tourist spots, Westminster, London Eye, Trafalgar Square et al but came across a few interesting things too. Speakers corner never fails to bring the amazing so i hung out there for a bit witnessing them argue, rant and rave about all manner of things, religion and politics always at the top of the agenda of course. Two blokes were really getting into it but there's rarely a winner in these situations, people here are too deluded. I then stumbled across a massive Sikh march of hundreds protesting a massacre in India back in 1984, I'm in no way educated enough to discuss but I did join them for a bit like. London is also covered in various elephant sculptures to raise conservation awareness so i snapped tens of them too as I came across them.
With all that done all that was left was to head home back home to South Shields and allegedly resume a normal lifestyle. I had originally intended to National Express it but Jan was heading back to Shields too and drove me home in no time at all, arriving back after a short four hour drive. The rents had no idea I was coming back yet, so as i bumbled in through the door my Mam just assumed it was my brother entering the house,  a loud 'eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee' came out of her mouth on seeing me, of course my Dad was a lot more reserved, offering the standard handshake haha. I was just happy there was no arrival home tears from her unlike the deporting home tears. It was nice to be back  home to be honest...and it would be nicer once i sat my eyes on them bridges again....

Song for the day : Talking Heads - This Must Be The Place (Naive Melody)

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I've recently rediscovered the genius of David Byrne

Perth - The Last Stop in The Land Down Under

I  rather enjoyed my time in Melbourne, as I've said before it really is an incredibly livable place and a very vibrant city. I can't say I  was bored at any point in my time there and would definitely add on the list of places in Australia I'd like to come back too. on the other hand i am rather bored of hostel living after a near ten month stretch of living in dorms; things that never bothered me previously certainly do now. bev and micks hostel was a bit fucked up really, ninety percent of the people there never left the hostel grounds and since they drank all night you could rarely go in the room since somebody was always sleeping. it would be hypocritical of me to complain about people coming in pissed at 5am waking everyone up given my own track record but when it's people coming in there who don't stay in the room, then i get pissed off. Randoms kept appearing shouting, playing bongo's and on more than one occasion some prick actually woke me when i was asleep at 7am as it was 'five dollar pints and you're being boring'...ok mate, fuck off and come back when it's 2 dollar pints and you've done a quarter of what i have and then we'll talk. two Lancashire birds staying in the room called Lucy and Paula were nice enough but rough as fuck it must be said. hairdryers out at dawn, no consideration for others, god knows what Lucy did during the night but she was a noisy cow. she slept above me and twice managed to wake me in the morning by standing on my head (yes i know it's hard not to miss harr) while getting off the bunk, the second time she very nearly slit my eyelid with her big toe, she's a big fucka as well. so yes the thought of having my own bed, room, and bathroom again is very appetizing now, especially after hearing Paula say "use me phone on me" while she was getting rattled again. classy bird.
moving onto Perth i booked my shuttle for 7:30pm pick up to the airport, these things always get my rather paranoid as they're just always really late and i didn't have any credit to phone up the company if they failed to show. I'd booked with a company called jetbus so obviously i was keeping a lookout for a shuttle with their logo, the hostel was on a crossroads too so i made sure i waited on the corner to have both waves of traffic covered. at 8pm panic began to sit in so i tried ringing them off my British phone and just as i was dialing a yellow taxi bus beeped me from the traffic lights calling me over, as i jumped in he told me "I've driven past 3 times"....um yeah you're meant to actually stop the car mate to do pick ups. he was a pleasant enough bloke though and i assume he was Indian since he was very keen to discuss the 20/20 world cup and England's victory on discovering my nationality. from there the flight to Perth was easy enough ans i landed down at about 1am local time (a two hours behind from Melbourne).
when it comes to backpacking i firmly believe in planning as least as possible and just going with the flow so i never bothered to book a hostel that night. my initial idea was to just hang out at a mcdonalds so i didn't have to pay rent for a night but i soon realized what a crap idea that one was so got dropped off at the yha at about 2:30am in the blind hope they'd have a night reception. luckily for me they did have just that but the bloke informed me "sorry, there's no male dorms mate"...that's fine with me, i've not stayed in a 'male dorm' yet but it was apparent i'd not be staying there on that night. he was very helpful though much to my shock given he's an Aussie and directed me down the road to another place as well as few numbers to ring, so i soon got checked in at grand central and a bed was sweet relief.
I've often talked about how i much prefer to live/drink in 'shitholes' as they always provide a better atmosphere, banter and cooler people. this is not the case with grand central backpackers. it's not even a backpackers for starters as there's hardly any travelers there, it's full of crackheads, Australians (something you never see in hostels), drifters, Chinese and other weirdos who generally use it as a home.the atmosphere is not good at all and the people even less so. i did enjoy reading the absolutely awful reviews online after i'd already payed up for my own stay. a guy in my room called Chris may take the title as biggest oddball i've met since leaving, he's an incredibly creepy young man it must be said. as soon as i met him i started blabbering on as if i'd known him for years, talking about his 'girl' and all manner of nonsense, within the first three minutes of talking he produced a photo of said girl to show me and i displayed no reaction whatsoever. i do think know though that there's something wrong with him, learning difficulties or something like that as he never shuts up about crap and doesn't really understand how to act socially. one example would be he woke me up the other night coming in, no big deal but then he wanted to discuss the waking of me up and started going anout how he's broke up with his girl as if i'd give a shit. not a conversation for 3am. its awful to say but he really reminds me of that south park episode when cartman pretends to be a bit gimp to get into the special olympics, that;s his look. i did come in last night to see him packing up as he'd 'been asked to move into his own room for some reason'...i knew the reason but i'm not that much of an arsehole to tell him. Another hostel incident was somebody getting slashed with a bottle in an argument that had spilled into the stree. From my room I could here two groups screaming at each other and when i looked out the window i was met by the sight of the hurling glass bottles at each other as two police cars pulled up. also they did was basically tell them to stop it even as they continued to kick off, that's it. They're a joke over here the pigs, all out of shape and useless, you'd be in a riot van within two seconds if that happened back in england. So you could say i've been trying to limit my time in the hostel to just sleeping and getting showered. Reception is a great return to that Aussie way though, i asked the man on reception what the code for the door to get in was and he screamed at me 'yeah that's cause it's changes every day bruv'. what you thinking i'm asking for it for you cunt?

As for Perth itself, well it's shit too. Probably harsh a bit and caused by the fact i've just had such a good time  everywhere else. There's nothing really here though except a few nice shops, a park and the botanical gardens. The city is lovely to walk through but the nightlife non existent, it seems the locals spend all the time in the many net cafes playing online team games and taking it all very very seriously, I did enjoy a nice wander along the river and then back up through the Botanical Gardens and King's park where it seems weddings are being held at a constant. I did manage to surprisingly find an arts centre here and was rather enjoying looking round the art gallery till i literally got 'told off' like a child for taking photos. It seems everything is 'copyrighted', that annoyed the shit out of me, I thought the whole point of this stuff was you want to share it and have as many people see it as possible. Whats' the point of a sculpture or painting if it lays dormant in the attic? A photo of the mona lisa is hardly going to deter people from wanting to see the original when getting an opportunity. I actually considered asking for my donation back and i'm so bitter i'll not mention any of the artists names cause they're getting no free promotion off me baby. That'll teach the capitilist bastards. suresuresure.
Todays my last full day in Australia so people ask how are you going to spend it? Well it's a bank holiday in WA so every where's bloody shut. Perth is the first place over here that has gangs of hooligans running about and loitering like charvers basically, a group of them had a brawl and were hassling me for money for the bus. I felt like i was back home already and was transported right back to Metroland where there's always a lack of bus fare problem. I am looking forward to going home tomorrow though...world cups, glastonbury, court dates, wedding and a lot more. Summer 2010 is going to be a good one. I can feel it.

Song For The Day : Howling Bells - Cities Burning Down



My favourite Aussie band for the last day down under

The Sydney Sessions - Regarding Rock N Roll Thursday

Ah Rock N Roll Thursday....the uneducated often ask what is it? Do they play stuff like Chuck Berry and Jerry Lee Lewis? The answer to the latter of course would be no and to the former in the simplest of terms would be that people from Bedlam backpackers go out drinking on a Thursday to the World Bar and then onto Favala. But oh it's so much more than that, carnage that never fails to deliver and plenty of scandalous as well as sordid events taken place.
I'm not sure when it became officially known as 'Rock N Roll Thursday', sometime in January perhaps but i've went out every single Thursday since when i initially arrived in Sydney way back in November. My first visit to the World Bar was when i stayed at Base and went out with about 12 Kiwis, we'd had quite a large amount to drink before getting there so on arrival we were all at the stage of getting 'Tuned In' as Mark Stewart would say, that point in the night where you're just waiting for the next good song to hit and then it's all go. After Thailand i was more than sick of hearing the same stuff played again and again, it's just Bonkers, Sexy Bitch, I gotta Feeling, Sex on Fire, Fucking Hotel Motel and Use Somebody on a constant loop, if i never heard any of those songs again then i'd die a happy man. So needless to say i have quite the vivid memory of being upstairs and then slowly realizing A-Trak's remix of Yeah Yeah Yeah's Heads will Roll was starting and then just going mental with it being the first good song i'd heard when out in two months. Unfortunately the night didn't last long as Dave got thrown out so we all left. However on our way home i bumped into my Swedish mates so headed back with them and just had an amazing night. The downstairs bit was just like Jukebox and they weren't playing all the obvious stuff like Mr Bright side or singles but album tracks and stuff from The Futureheads, Beatles, Kinks, Justice, Hot Chip, Libertines and on and on. I felt like 'right this is my place' and i made the decision that i'd definitely be going there every week.

And so I did. When i first got to Bedlam nobody used to go out really, we all just used to get fucked on goon in the hostel so I used to drink a box to myself then go out and talk to randoms then come back completely out of it. I remember Fiona being baffled as to why i would do this and my reply of "if i can go to Australia by myself then i can go to a bar too" didn't really help her much. It was a bit insane i guess, i never used to last long before getting chucked out and I remember getting ejected one time for drinking directly from the spout of a teapot n the dance floor. Here's Lee with one. As Christmas approached there was a mass changeover in people and we all started to go out together a lot, plus people like Lee and Amy arrived who were very much Rock N Roll so it started to spiral from there, it even got its on facebook page. Christmas Eve was an especially good night in there dancing to Slade and all that before I ended up wandering round the hostel naked but that's a whole different story.
The first true night where pretty much everyone came out was an utter classic. Favela (pretty much the same as World bar but less crowded) was added as a second stop and somehow everyone ended up doing stage dives in there and that set the tone from there on in. The people going ranged from seven on a bad week to about thirty but it was always good and messy, especially when i finally got my due with the wristbands getting free drink in World bar, two free teapots there and free drink in Favela too. All done by claiming to be the 'entertainment manager'. My personal favorite night will always be the storming of 1D.
Nobody ever came home as a group for obvious reasons and this one time i stumbled back in with Francois, Marie and Louise all siting down and Skinner was there too Fucked (standard). When he's drunk the English hooligan tends to come out in him and i'm sure i probably started it but the England songs were coming out. The classics were all there....World IN Motion, 3 Lions, Jerusalem, EN-GER-LAND EN-GER-LAND....and soon everyone was back singing along as i banged a chair. Next thing you know we're walking up everyone in 1D and 40 Estonians, Swedes, French, German, Canadians and whatever else are all singing along while throwing beds over and Leona's jaws on the floor, Alexis is shouting Aussie Aussie Aussie! and in the middle of all the madness someone busts out a guitar and we all have a sing along. You had to be there for that one, truly the best of times and one of the greatest nights ever.
I can't really remember must other ones as we were always so fucked that they all blend together. There was the poppers craze, Vincent losing a tooth, me getting wrong for too many free beers being had and total total debauchery. After i left Lee took the baton on as ringleader and even in his absence the hostel still calls it Rock N Roll Thursday so i like to think my marks been left on Sydney at least. Other highlights include the weeks when i'd get back late and Skinner would seemingly have a blackout before going to bed and steal stuff for our room with super strength then have no memory of it. In consecutive weeks he stole a toaster, kettle, couch!, table and somehow a near 6 x 7 ft mirror that i struggled to lift. Some of these were dragged up three flights of stairs. I also enjoyed the tradition of terrorizing Melanie Freeman as she tried to sleep for work, cries of 'I just want to spoon ya!' were the norm and i especially enjoyed the night i found a surfboard outside so took it in the room and then jumped on her bed trying to surf her as she slept.
Another random night was when i came back into our room in 3 D and attempted to wind Skinner up by slapping him only to have some German in his bed reply with 'vee will talk about zees in the morning'.(This would be our first encounter with Norman, theres too much weirdness hes done to go on about but he's a nutjob). I started to freak out though and then ran downstairs thinking I was in the wrong room, thankfuly Jon came down to inform me that Skinners stuff had been moved, his bed nicked and then it all kicked off with the owners including them banging there door in. His statement of 'we'd all have been thrown out if you were here' sums up my nature of the time. I probably should mention the week prior i elbowed some guy in the fce and he hit the floor like a ton of bricks. He had been harrassing me all night, wouldn't shake my hand and kept bumping into me with his shoulder on purpose so I had no choice and would do it again. Thank god skinner was there to grab me or i could have really got into trouble that night since the police were in the bar too.
There's many more tales that could be told but people could easily get into trouble with the events being recorded haha, it was often fun to see who was sleeping in what bed the next day is all i shall say. Here's some photo's from the madness that is Rock N roll Thursday!

Song For The Day : The Smiths - This Charming Man



A Rock N Roll Thursday anthem

Melbourne part two

The second week in Melbourne began with yet another trip down to Federation square and a visit to the Ian Potter Centre: National Gallery of Victoria which was very similar in content and aesthetics to that of the Baltic back home. The first floor was an exhibition of mostly Aboriginal art which while impressive was a bit heavy, i did enjoy the really bitter and angry stuff mind. Like the painting of an underfed Aboriginal knocking out a bible bashing white European or the "I'm not sorry" painting (A reference to the former Prime Ministers refusal to apologize for the Lost Generation and overall treatment of the Aboriginal people). The other exhibitions were fairly remarkable but yet dull for my tastes, amazing paintings, portraits, sculptures and works of art but I have zero interest in the traditional and much prefer the fucked up stiff or Warholesque surrealism. The highlight was the VCE schools exhibit displaying selections of Art, sculptures, fashion design and photography from the best of school leavers in the state. The level of quality for such an age was astounding, leaving me feeling slightly uncreative but then again as I always say at times like this, Paul Weller had already dissolved the Jam years ago by the time he was my age, he'd already done it. I am writing "something" though, not sure what but it's something at least. True story.

The evening was pent with a trip to the Cinema (Sorry Claire, it was either that or upset people by getting drunk) to see Kick Ass.  I didn't really fancy it but had heard nothing but good things and well, I wasn't exactly spoilt for choice. Very glad i did see it as it was one of the best films i'd seen in a long time; tremendous script, self aware, no bullshit, suitable violence and had a vibe like back in the eighties before everything became PG in fear of the Christian right. It does seem that Marc Croft has taken over from Sean Beans role as 'go to British actor when you need a villain' with him in this, Sherlock Holmes and Robin Hood in quick succession. He'll always be Tosker to me from 'our Friends In The North though, that's another series I really need to see again. Also somebody needs to have a serious word with Nic Cage, what the fuck is going on with his fucked up wig/hair/ botox forehead combination, the man looks horrific. Anyhow yes, go see Kick-Ass.

From there I visited the National Gallery of Victoria and rather enjoyed it as standard. The place had quite the collections; the first floor was mainly paintings, coffins, and sculptures from the Egyptians and Aztec's. It's quite astounding how well they've been preserved but even more so that you're standing in front of something that was painted literally thousands of years ago, in another continent too. One small piece on the floor did massively freak me out, it was a video projection of a woman ageing and water coming from her, the room was really sparse and was all to represent death. I felt very much like david st hubbins at Graceland in Spinal Tap, "it's too much fucking perspective". The second floor was a bizarre collection of Chinese art, Japanese tea sets (yes) and European paintings; the latter just made me think of  Tony Sopranos painting with the horse unfortunately. The contemporary stuff on the third floor was much more my thing, one selection was entitled 'Timelines' with a simple enough premise, the photographer took some head shots in the late eighties and then went back to the same subjects twenty years later to recreate the shots. The subtle differences were quite startling but the last one was a bit harrowing, each person had their two shots in a frame but the last one was just the man in the eighties and then a blank wall for now showing obviously he'd died, it made me feel awful for some reason. The rest of the stuff was a series of abstract images, the avant garde and post modern art which i rather like, pleasant surprise to find a Warhol original amongst it all too.
I also came across a socialist/LGBT rally at the state library which was campaigning for equal rights for all and mainly gay marriage to be lawful. One of the speakers seemed to me to be just some English guy who was old and needed a shave, he was very eloquent and well spoken though. I found out the next day it was only Sir Ian Mckellen, i was twelve feet away at the time, i really am shockingly blind. It was exactly the same when i found out Paul McCartney played with Neil Young through the papers despite being at the gig myself! You can just about make Gandalf out in the photo too

Back on the wander I walked through the Domain where once again you came across things that would just have to be fenced off in England or ruined. I wasn't overtly impressed with St Kilda really, yes it's another nice beach, big fucking deal. I've realized since coming away i'm much more a city person and i'd rather be out at midnight under the city lights with the deviants than at the beach during the day. I knew that before i left though having not been on South Shield's beach for over a decade despite living opposite it. True story.
Not much to report really as i'm keeping off the drink and a 'low profile' as Leona likes to say, people keep getting thrown out of the Hostel anyway for drinking in their rooms and i just can't afford a session at the bar so have been far too well behaved, I have lost a stone since i've left Sydney which is never a bad thing. Paula is astounded i'm out from 10am till midnight every single day, "i piss about" doesn't really cover my activities. I did go to the MCG to see an AFL game though with Geelong vs Collingwood and 88000 there, i still think the sports  a joke though. The hostel is mental , i walked into the sight of beds being tipped over, bongos on the go and a bin tucked into Jason's bed not too long ago. Nobodies claimed it yet which makes me think it was Skinner, just the thing he'd do when pissed up. I have Perth in a week and then it'll be back home which is a very odd proposition so that means only three more travel blogs, thank god though as they've become so hard to write and an utter chore. I'm shocked i've managed to keep them up but glad i have and people seem too like them. So yes next it's Perth, then Rock N Roll Thursdays greatest Hits and the final epilogue.

Song for the day : Doves - Black and White Town

West Coast Bound- Melbourne

It was my first journey on the Greyhound a nice enough 12 hour journey through Canberra on toward Melbourne, not much in between it must be said. The only odd occurrence was this weird skinny guy in front of me stripped to his boxers and treat the bus like his own bed, he may have been the biggest geek I've ever seen too, almost like a white Jewish version of erkal. Once dropped off I didn't have the slightest idea to where I was so thought I'd just as well go to the nearest Hungry Jacks for breakfast and a consult with my Lonely Planet guidebook to see whatever hostels were about and so at least i'd have an idea of where I was at. Unfortunately i didn't quite get that done straight away as of course i had to encounter a complete weirdo first. I'd clocked him while queuing thanks to his odd demeanor and the strange bag he was carrying so I thought i'd best keep away from that one; of course he had to just sit right next to me. Despite the fact i was eating while having my head buried in my book he deemed it utterly necessary to start bombarding me with random information and questions. "Where are you from?", "How Long are you here for?", "how much money do you have?", "What's a pint?"....ah go away please, it's only half eight in the morning and i can't be dealing with this....I was picking up major psycho warnings so decided it be best to munch breakfast and then head off on foot with the book looking for street names.

I'm easily pleased when it comes to Hostels, all i want is clean linen, reasonable prices and a good atmosphere so when I heard a place called 'Bev and Micks' was a measly 100 dollars a week, then i knew i had to have a gander at least. This was easier said then done of course with not having a clue where i was, it didn't really help when my hostel was really a bar disguised as one and with my complete lack of peripheral vision, I even ended up walking past it twice before finally getting in. Everyone was really friendly there with most people being long termers which i much prefer, the attached bar though could easily be a disaster zone for me with the hostel having a very Bedlam like atmosphere but I've been very well behaved really. Too behaved some may say.

Instantly I very much liked Melbourne, Sydney is a little more spread out whereas here it's a lot more dense and just a bit more 'my thing' you could say. Plenty of music venues, great shops, bars, art venues, culture and the amount of sport is unreal too: Rod Laver Arena, MCG, Etihad Stadium, AAMI Park, Olympic Park and many more all a stones throw away from each other. I spent the first few days just wandering about trying to get my bearings and avoiding the drink, both were very successful. Most people in my room were here indefinitely annd were cool. A mad girl from somewhere in Europe really wanted me to do medical trials with her and i'm stupid enough to do it but she disappeared one day, can't say i'm surprised. She seemed the type to go missing.

Before flying onto New Zealand, Cara 'Dave' Murphy was in town so i said i'd meet up with her for a drink on the evening, a simple task you'd think? Well you'd be very wrong on this occasion certainly. Firstly she didn't have a clue where her hostel was, or what side of the river she happened to be on, so I had to go to McDonald's to use google maps and find out where the Nomads were. According to this they were too in the area, one on Spencer street and another on the south side of Melbourne with my Lonely planet concurring the latter. She said it wasn't the one on Spencer street so I headed down to the other with google saying it would take a bout an hour to walk, Cara said this was a load of crap though as her bus stopped off at the other one and it wasn't that far, this becomes important later. With google maps on my iPhone as my guide I headed off on the road and reached the river for about 9:20 (I left the hostel at 8ish), I started to get an eery feeling as the area wasn't built up at all and quite dark, it seemed an odd place for there to be any hostels. My iPhone was saying I was standing right at the Nomads but i couldn't find it anywhere, Cara was no help at all on the phone either, laughing at me when i asked where the fuck i was and if she was winding me up. After about half an hour of looking I came to the realisation that the Nomads had obviously relocated and in the meantime been replaced by of all things another 'Bev and Micks', how ironic. ..So I headed to another McDonalds to google Nomads, it came up with A'Beckett as the street name not York street and this turned out to be about 3 minutes from my hostel, I'd been out for an hour and a half and it was an hours walk back. I wanted to weep, Dave loved it all obviously barely being able to speak on the phone thanks to tears of laughter. On the way back I just had to stop off at another McDonalds to get some comfort food, of course being me I met some complete tools there in the form of an over the top, obese, camp emo who shouted at me "Isn't this place crazy....do you come here much?".....I was in no mood for this. He then got really offended by a tramp screaming at nobody specific "GET A JOB!....DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD I STRUGGLE JUST TO SURVIVE?", erm not very much by your fat arse and face mate. On the way back I had more struggles, the iPhone died and Cara's one bit of help was "There's a global gossip sticker in the window", so when i saw one and went in I really wasn't surprised that it was the wrong one and she wasn't there, this was the story of my night. I had to demand she came out and pretty much just followed the sound of her laughing to find her completely pissing herself at me. It was now eleven o 'clock, i should've got there at ten past fucking eight. Nobody was worth this effort for a drink and i made sure she understood this. So we finally had a pint while she tried to contain her laughter at it all while hassling me to go to New Zealand with her, Matt, Lucy and Aled. At least i could take solace in that Melbourne looks great at night and i got to see a bit of the south bank.
One of the highlights of Melbourne (and to be hones everywhere) was going to the Australian Centre for the Moving Image at Federation Square. The centre was a history of everything to do with the technoligial advance of moving images from film, television, mobile phones, video games and everything in between. I really could have spent hours in there (and did), going round and round like an idiot. There was just so much cool stuff to see, a camera that produced the bullet Matrix effect for you, image and light manipulation exhibits, history of TV, global broadcasting, and my favourite probably being the video game section. They had spectrums, commodore 64s, ataris, nes's, Lemmings and even Super Mario bros 3. I'll never forget the day i got that as an early Christmas present from my Nana and therefore hadit before everyone else. The whole estate must have come round my house to watch me play buit of course nobody else was alloewed to touch it at all having being an arsehole all my life it seems. I was a bit dissapointed to be here too early for the Tim Burton exhibition but the current one was quite worth seeing too. It was from a film called Max and May which uses the same stop motion technique with plasticine characters to film that Aardman studios (Wallace and Gromit) use. Stuff like this just astounds me, the process is just so painstakingly long and everythins so intricate. It baffles me how anyone can have the patience but I guess that's why the do so well, they genuinely love doing it.

The first weekend was a quiet one but I was on the hunt to watch the football if possible but could only find it on at the Casino, I was just about to give up when i bumped into Jason and a few others so followed them to a bar not too far form the hostel. Sadly we walked in to the sight of 40 Chelsea fans jumping around as they'd already took the lead, my stomach turned intantly. I fucking hate the majority of cockneys and Chelsea fans are right near the top too so after Caldwell got sent off and Lampard scored the subsequent penalty, I just stormed off after sculling my drink. The title was over and they'd be fewer places i'd rather not be. All in al it was good first week here and I do love the city, i really could see myself living here sometime....not just yet mind....

Song for the Day - Metronomy : A thing for Me

The Sydney Sessions - Back to Carnage at The Cross

It was a rather surreal experience stepping back out to Kings Cross at ten am of all times, i'm not sure that i'd even seen it so early before. I felt even stranger on entering Brado's again, a lot of people had left since my initial departure but it seemed my return coincided with what could be coined 'reunion week'. Louise had returned a few days prior, Andrew was back on Sunday, as was Pernille, Mel and Guy the Monday and a few mores faces appeared as the week went on, so I certainly timed my return well. Forest and Laurence greeted me in reception to to the standard exchange of"how was it?", "did you have fun?", "what was the boat like?" etc etc. The hostel was pretty dead with it being pre 12pm but the faces who were around I didn't recognise at all, it would become apparent that much had changed in just the five weeks i'd left.

I moved back into the old stomping ground of 3C to find the whole room still in bed, Paul and Lee jumped up to greet me with the rest looking on as if to say "Who the fuck is this guy barging in?", i think you'll find i'm a pretty big deal in this place i'll have you know....suresuresure. As per usual Paul was determined to drag me to a bar despite it not even being eleven yet, he never takes no for an answer so i cut a deal with him being that if he let me go get food and shut up then i'd join him. Lee and Owen soon joined us at the Vegas hotel while Paul had apparently taking up gambling a lot since I left, "i was bored with everyone gone, gotta do something" was his reasoning. He was pretty good at it too, not that he seemed to have a clue what he's doing, he just get's lucky everywhere it seems, the night before he one a load of food to feed two families at the Empire just for buying a beer. With Paul's winnings we decided to get a steak and after visiting four places that was advertising them we finally managed to get a feed at the Sugarmill, as well as run into some awful people at the same time. Well, it is Kings Cross after all.

I can't recall what the game being played on the evening was, United vs Villa maybe? I do know that pretty much the whole hostel was watching it and not going out, despite Miss Scott's best efforts for me to rally the troops since it was her friends birthday. I did get to see her briefly and Claire this is rich coming from me but you were "wasted", I quite enjoyed the role reversal for a change haha. In the end the lure of going out proved too much for me and Paul so we went for a few drinks and a few games of pool. As well as send drunken texts of course. We had a bit chat to a couple of Aussie blokes and a 21 year old girl who looked about 37, they were all nice enough but one of them seemed a but "unhinged" you could say. He kept going on about this hotel in coffs harbour and was determined to "burn it" for some reason, he kept talking as if we knew what he was on about too making it more unsettling. I didn't last all night thanks to having been up for two days now and drinking all this one so crashed out completely at 3am.

The next day i was awoken to what seemed like an already half-cut Andrew slapping me in the face while i slept in bed; haven been awoken I went downstairs to only be greeted by the hostel owners drinking and pushing a bottle in my hand. It was 12:15 and i'd been up five minutes, now i recalled why i left kings cross in the first place. It was Anzac day here which is much the same as remembering Sunday back home except instead of poppies being everywhere people here seem to use it as an excuse to drink, not that we need one after all. I was so tired after the coast trio that even after ten hours of drinking i was still stone cold sober, thankfully Andrew was not and so fucked that he provided all the entertainment you could ever need. And of course it was nice to have my fucking French sister Louise around for some "tope-las", that never gets old.
In my previous Sydney days i never really had a camera (coupled with rarely seeing daylight) so I decided to capture as much as the city as possible given my new prominence for activity. I used the free time to catch up on writing too and joined Forest on the harbour bridge, Opera House, botanical gardens walk, which turned out to be a really good day. Much was learned. Unfortunately this all played hell with my right ankle, flip-flops obviously aren't enough support for it after tearing it's ligaments awhile back, it swelled up pretty bad and i actually felt the need to take painkillers. I think i've only done that one ten times in my life so that shows you what i was dealing with.

Regarding the nights was a rather strange matter, since i'd left the atmosphere in the place had just dived. The banter was poor and now for the first time I found the place quite cliquey, nobody gave you the time of day, ignored your greetings and on nights out people went out in small groups rather then together.The free BBQ was a prime example, Me, Lee, Darryl, Lena and Louise all tried our best to make the most of it but it just wasn't happening. Most people ran off at half eight and what was left to view verged on the embarrassing just to be there. Party games for prizes are always the norm here but now they had Peter the sex pest ascting as MC, I can't say enough bad things about the man, just an awful creature. At one point i think about five guys in the hostel were just waiting for him to say anything they could latch onto to give him a slap, he was clearly an idiot too. The first game was true or false and his first question was "Does a Koala bear get stoned on leaves?" Well it's not a bear for starters but it went downhill from there with him getting the answers even wrong, after that it was the sex position round and my enthusiasm ad been killed. I didn't even make it to the sugarmill for the free drinks there such was the predicament. Thank god we had a DVD player in the room.

The rest of the week was a bit quiet in comparison to days gone by but i was happy with that, i have no idea how i managed to live this lifestyle for so long and survive, well i barely was is more the point. Thanks to Uni work I never got to see Claire but there's always December in London and we did manage to fit in one final Rock N Roll Thursday (that subject deserves its own entry) as well as Lee got a camp haircut which is always a good way to spend a night i reckon. I manage to annoy everyone again by going missing on my last night just as i did previously. This time i started the day watching Mayweather vs Mosley and then jopined Darryl to watch Chelsea pretty much win the league against the worst Liverpool side since the Roy Evans era. I don't like the nights attention being on me it seems, like i enjoy other peoples birthdays but hate my own, two weeks today for the next one too. It was a rather disturbing sight to walk in the room after to find Andrew passed out on the floor, playing with his nipples, he really is a strange man. I can't really remember what i did on the last day, I think i tried to pack my bag for a bout five hours before one of Ellie's motivation texts to "do something!" sorted that one out. I'd sure get more done if she was around to hassle me all the time. With all done it was just left to bid farewell and i headed off to catch the 8pm bus down to Melbourne...

Song For The Day - Broken Social Scene : Stars and Sons