A Cold Day in July

This house selling lark is boring us rigid. We've been on the market for over a week now and we haven't had so much as a sniff. So, in an effort to generate some excitement into our lives, the wife and I set a date to leave for Australia - July 23rd 2007.

Whether the house has sold or not, we're leaving. If the house sells sooner than that, well, we'll cross that bridge if, and when, we come to it.

We decided on Thursday night. Cory told us last week that he is 'doing the Troop' this June. To the uninitiated this means that he, as part of the 1st Battalion The Welsh Guards, will be 'Trooping the Colour' in London, and we wouldn't miss that for the world. As we're staying for that, we may as well let the girls finish their school year. They 'break-up' on the 20th July. So the plan is - have our leaving do on the 21st, sober up on the 22nd and get the flock out of here on the 23rd!

We're booking the flights today. Manchester to Brisbane, four people (two big, two small) one-way with Singapore Airlines - £2,086. We'll spend some time with our good friends Hed and Annabel in Brissy, which ties in nicely with Heds 40th birthday celebrations. Hed's also going to assist us with various aspects of administration, medicare, buying some wheels, etc.

From there we'll head to Sydney and do the touristy thaang for a few days. I'll sneak off on my lonesome at some stage, probably a Friday arvo, and head off on my pilgrimage to the GarryOwen in Balmain.

Then onwards to the City of Albury, unless there are any other points of interest on the way that my reader/s (Jen!) think may be worthy of a toilet break.

We should arrive there sometime around the 7th or 8th of August but we're flexible on those dates at the moment.

We're leaving Britain at the height of its summertime for Australia in mid-winter, so at least we won't have to worry about a change in climate.

Objects in the Rear View Mirror...

Today I went to the dentist. I lost my denture in a drunken stupor following one of the many Xmas drinking binges I went on. I imagine it's now residing in someones rose bush between where I got dropped off and home. So it's going to cost me £158 to replace. What a waste!

Anyway, my trip to and from the dentist takes me through some of North East Wales' nicer scenary and villages. Whilst travelling through Halkyn you get a great view of the surrounding area, the estuary and across to Merseyside. You really get the feeling of height above sea level when you can actually see the sea.

As usual I had to stop for Halkyn's most common species of resident, the sheep. They care little for the laws of the highway and even less for the green-cross code. Whilst waiting patiently for them to amble across the road, it dawned on me that there is no difference in the English language between the singular form of this creature and the plural. In Welsh we have dafad for the singular and defaid for the plural. Why it has taken me this long to realise this who knows?

Eventually I journeyed on and pretty soon I was grateful for the delay. For in my rear view mirror I spotted a piece of my past. An old friend.

I had to look twice but there was no mistaking the unique shape of a Landrover One Tonne. This one still bearing its military colours - army green with random black 'blobbage'. During my service days these were the most fun vehicles to drive. A massive V8 engine gave them heaps of power and a mean sound. The drivers position, being slightly ahead of the front wheels, gave a very different, entertaining perspective to a journey.

Used mainly by the Artillery, our paths crossed all too seldomly, but I took every opportunity that came my way to take one for a spin. As the engine was housed between the drivers' and passenger seat, repairs were always conducted under cover, out of the rain and cold. This fact also endeared them to me. The One Tonne remains my favourite wheeled vehicle of all-time.

I was tempted to race ahead in my car, pull over, jump out and try to flag the driver down. I know that the type of people who seek out, purchase and, more often than not, renovate military vehicles like this are, invariably, very willing to discuss their prized possession. Self-preservation stopped me taking this course of action though as I thought that the driver may decide to mow me down, thinking I was some sort of deranged, toothless lunatic attempting a car-jacking.

So I let him go. I return to the dentist for my denture dress rehearsal on Tuesday, so I'll keep my eyes peeled for him. Who knows I may even get to take it for a spin...

Gotta Get to Rehab...

Things are getting out of hand on the belly front. The Christmas festivities have taken a heavy toll on my waistline. Haven't set foot in the gym since November... and it shows.

I'm weighing in at 16st 4llbs. I was 14st 7llbs in the summer when we did the Three Peaks. My proposed fitness campaign was due to commence on January 2nd but thus far hasn't even looked like getting underway. Definately tomorrow.

Bar GarryOwen

The estate agent put the 'For Sale' board up outside the house today. This will be the first time I've lived in a house that is on the market. We've chosen Peter Large after taking advice. I met him a couple of years ago when he valued our old house. Nice bloke, named after the size of his wallet apparently.

We briefly considered attempting to flog it ourselves to avoid paying the middle man. People do it these days, using the internet. We'll give Peter and his team a month or so and review the situation then.

I've been doing some serious surfing over the weekend, checking out a prospective local in Albury. The pubs look pretty good, much better than I expected based on my memories of Sydneys pubs from my visit in '96. The pubs were like slums but the punters within these slums were top notch.

Our local was the GarryOwen Hotel in Balmain. What a gaff! It reminded me of drinking establishments I'd visited in the Third World, a giant ashtray surrounding the bar with a lone armchair complete with upholstery spring poking through it's seat, positioned far too close to the cracked, worn-out dartboard. We called in one Friday afternoon for a swift one and ended up leaving on Sunday night decked out in the rugby league shirts of our choice, given to us by the lads we had met during the session. I've still got mine. South Sydney, the pride of the league, with the number one on the back. Given to me by Yummy, who, despite his handicap, ran all the way home and back in the rain to present it to me.

I plan to return to the GarryOwen when we move to Oz. It's had a right touch-up since that weekend in November ten years ago. It looks like a gay bar now, with shiny metallic furniture that looks less inviting than the broken chair from '96. It bears more resemblance to an Ikea showroom than a boozer. It's even got its own website.

I'd love to catch up with the gang that kept us royally entertained and made us feel so at home when we were twelve thousand miles away from home. They even managed to squeeze a 'punch-up' in for us, which despite the obvious violent overtones, still managed to be a comical and ultimately friendly segment of the evening.

I doubt whether the GarryOwen of today would permit that sort of behaviour, let alone encourage it as was the case back then. Couldn't see the dartboard on the website photographs either. Nor any of the faces I would recognise anywhere. No Yummy. I imagine they've moved on, unhappy with their local being turned into Bar GarryOwen, selling latte and mochachocachino. On to somewhere where they can watch the dogs, spit, curse, have a punt and thump each other.

I hope they took the dartboard with them...

Hell Hath No Fury...

Spoiler ahead -

Tracey Barlow's just biffed old Stubbsy round the cranium with a statue. Go Girl!!

Can you get 'The Street' in Australia?

Windy City

Forget Chicago and Wellington, if there was a windier place than Rhyl this morning then you don't want to be going there. As I looked out of my bedroom window a scene of carnage greeted me. Wheelie bins, litter and fence panels were among the bigger pieces of debris strewn across the green. Poor old Tim from across the way spent all weekend fixing his fence up only to see it destroyed by gale force winds during the wee small hours. That's his weekend sorted out. I should give him a lift actually, he helped me repair our garage door.

6-3 TO THE ARSE-EN-AL!!

Need I say more?

Dude Looks Like a Lady

NYE was a good night out. A good old-fashioned knees-up in several of the towns pubs, all of which hold special memories for me and the wife, collected down the years. A fitting end to our involvement in Rhyls New Years celebrations, as residents at least.

Fancy dress was, once again, on the slide although there was still plenty around. Possibly in the region of twenty per cent of revellers had donned costume for the big night. There were some good ones too - the most outstanding being the young lad in the Esp, who looked resplendent in his blazer, tie and slacks, only to turn around to reveal the back cut out of his rig showing his mums shocking pink bra and knickers.

This time next year, if everything goes to plan, we'll be seeing out the old and welcoming in the new in sunnier climes - Albury, NSW to be exact. The house gets measured by the estate agents this week then it's up for grabs. When it's gone so are we...

The Boys in the Royal Blue Jerseys

Would you adam and steve it? My birthday wish came true! Everton walloped Newcastle 3-0! Three goals scored by the home side at Goodison Park is very much a rarity these days so for it to occur on my birthday was a nice touch. The only downside of the event was the fact that we didn't get to see the game. We traipsed around Rhyls sodden streets in a vain attempt to find somewhere showing it. As it turned out no one was showing it because, for once, Evertons game was the only one not featuring on anyones satellite feed.

Never mind, I had an enjoyable birthday, drinking with my oldest friend Weeble. We called into our old haunt 'The Barrell', formerly the town centres premium watering hole. It's had a re-fit in an attempt to restore it to its former glories, returning to it's old name and layout after a couple of name changes and attempts to turn it into a nightclub. It was quite fitting that we dropped by yesterday on my last birthday in town. We had spent a good portion of our misspent youth in this place and we reminisced as we sat there. Two other members of the 'old guard' came in whilst we were there and , although we never knew them that well, we gave them the nod and said 'hello' just like in the good old days when I had a fringe.

Tonight is New Years Eve of course and for the first time in nineteen years I won't be going out in fancy dress. Rhyl has traditionally been Party Centraal on NYE with virtually the entire town donning costume for the night. It was almost compulsory in days of yorn but over the years the tradition has sadly been on the wane. Even I shan't be bothering tonight as I've been void of any idea what to dress up as really. I can't keep putting one of the wifes dresses on - people will suspect. I was going to do Borat in his Kazakh speedos but decided it would be too cold and a bit on the obscene side as well.

So tonight we're going as ourselves as, I'd imagine, many other people will. I hope the tradition continues and becomes what it was once again, for it was a truly memorable period in the history of Rhyls nightlife.

On that note, wherever you are and whatever you do tonight have a good one. Blwyddyn Newydd Da i chi gyd! Happy New Year to you all!