Stood Where Ned Stood

On Saturday we set about exploring.

We had planned to visit Australia's capital city, Canberra, but I overslept and, as it's a three hour drive away, we opted to stay closer to home.

So, instead, we visited the towns of Beechworth and Wangaratta, an area of north-eastern Victoria known as Kelly Country.

Beechworth is described as a living museum and it's not hard to see why. The town retains much of it's original lay-out and buildings. And, in doing so, it holds a unique and memorable charm.

There are no 'pokies' in Beechworth. A 'poky' being a gambling machine - what people back home would call a 'bandit'. This may seem unremarkable, but, believe me, in Australia 'pokies' are in abundance in every pub, tavern and club. I personally think there are more 'pokies' than people in Australia.

Not in Beechworth though. So remarkable is this, that the town declare the fact, albeit discreetly, on many signs up and down the place. And rightly so, if you can't uphold and enjoy Victorian values in Victoria, then where can you?

The majority of our time here was spent in the telegraph station and in the towns courthouse.

The telegraph station was built in 1858 as a relay point between Melbourne and Albury. You can still send a telegram to anywhere in the world from the station and we sent a couple home. Here, we also had a very interesting lesson in Morse Code from the old chap who 'manned' the station.

The courthouse, I'm sure, is Beechworth's major attraction. For it was here, at the back-end of the 19th century, that several members of the Kelly family, including Edward 'Ned' Kelly himself, were tried for their crimes.

Early on in his criminal career Ned was sentenced to three years imprisonment here for 'receiving a horse'. Sounds painful doesn't it?

In 1880, after two years on the run, Ned was captured at Glenrowan and was brought here, to Beechworth's Courthouse, where he was committed to stand trial in Melbourne and subsequently hanged.

We spent an enjoyable four hours here. Like I said it's a charming place and I was captivated by it's well kept, historical past.

Although lacking Beechworth's old-world charm, Wangaratta is a nice enough place too. Ned's brother James is buried there somewhere.

My favourite things about Wangaratta are the names the locals use for the town.

Some simply and affectionately call it 'Wang' while others, less simply and less affectionately call it 'W#nk and Splatter'.

I say, how un-Victorian.

That's Our Girl!

We continue to settle, slowly but surely, into our new surroundings.

As we'd hoped and, to a degree, expected, the girls seem to be settling much more quickly.

They love their new school, have made new friends and, in Lowri's case, found true love.

Yes, Lowri informed us on Friday that she is in love with Dray. I think that's how you spell it, although it could be Dre, like the famous medical practitioner come rap star.

So, young Jacob, back home in Wales, appears to be officially dumped. However, as a six year old enjoying his summer holidays, I doubt whether this will affect his mood in the slightest.

Whilst Lowri has been busying herself with the fellas, our eldest daughter Robyn, has been wowing them on the athletics track.

With complete disregard for the recent sporting tradition that Aussies win everything and us Brits finish as plucky losers, the Robsta went out and won three foot races on her sports day.

She won the hurdles, the one hundred and two hundred metre events for ten year olds.

We were as proud as punch. Go Robyn!

If It's Not One Thing, It's Your Mother

The kids love their new school and the wife likes her new job. I'm quite enjoying my temporary role as well.

I've done the school run, dropped the wife off at work, done a bit of housework, watched some daytime telly (Oz Aerobics) and now I'm in Albury's wonderful, new library.

Such is my daily routine as Mr. Mum.

I had my first mild bout of homesickness this weekend. It was very mild and only lasted an hour or two. It was brought on by a couple of happenings from home - the Esplanade Club's annual outing to Bangor-on-Dee races and the boys from the Swan phoning me up in the middle of their Sunday session.

It was the middle of the night here and I was fast asleep when my mobile went off. I looked at the caller ID on my phone - Pepsi Max.

Now, everyone at home reading this blog knows Pepsi to be the ultimate pest and nuisance calls are a big part of his very limited repertoire, so I rejected the call. I sat up in bed, put my phone on silent, 'puffed up' my pillow and lay back down, hoping to resume my 'sandwich' dream from last week.

A sleepless minute passed before my phone started vibrating. Although my phone was in silent mode, in the dead of night the noise from the vibration is quite audible. I looked at the screen, it read 'Private Number'.

This is the caller ID you get from an unrecognised number from the U.K. I immediately associated the call with Pepsi the Pest and let it ring. It rang for an absolute age before ceasing. 'Very persistent,' I thought.

A couple of minutes later it rang again with the same ID. Again, it rang for ages. By now I was awake, thinking something dreadful had happened back home and someone was desperate to get hold of us.

The next time it rang I picked up straight away, only to be greeted by some clown asking for a kebab. The next thing I heard was raucous laughter - the type of laughter you get when the people doing the laughing have consumed an afternoon's worth of ale.

And that's exactly what it was, the lads down at The Swan enjoying their Sunday afternoon drink and, more so, enjoying interrupting my much required beauty sleep. It must have been on speaker-phone because I could hear all of the idiots

I spoke to a couple of them, which was nice, but it was the background noise of a busy British pub that made me want to be there.

As for the Esplanade trip to the races, this was the first one I've missed for years. It's a great day out, definitely one of the highlights on our social calender. The memories we've got from this event down the years still tickle me - I can still see Bob Bishop hurtling down the centre aisle of the coach last year, microphone in hand, crashing into the windscreen.

How we all laughed as he was carried out of the Esp on a spinal board.

I'm crying laughing just writing about it. To those who don't know, I'm pleased to say that Bob made a full recovery and was present on the trip this year. Tina had to book a different coach firm though, I believe.

My mum and dad are regulars on the trip these days and I had a few text messages from them and from friends letting me know how the day was going. Once again Mum managed to uphold the proud family tradition by getting well and truly trashed.

The last two text messages I got were from Matty.

The first one said -'Your mum is sh#tfaced'

'Oh no, not again,' I said to the wife.

The second one, an hour later, informed me that she'd been sick on Tina, the landlady.

Ma, what are you like?

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

Here are the girls looking very proud of their selves in the uniform of their new school, Wodonga Primary.

If you click on the snap to enlarge it, you may be able to make out the Welsh and Australian flag pin-badges on their hats. These were given to them as leaving gifts.

They were up like larks this morning, super-excited about their first day.

On the way to school I asked Robyn,

'On a scale of one to ten, how excited are you?'

'Nine and a half' she said, ' and half nervous' she added.

Mrs. Martin, the Principal, was waiting for them in reception and she took us to their respective classrooms. I was touched by Robyn's new teacher - she told the girls she knew exactly how they felt as she had moved to Australia from Scotland aged six. She'd also been in our old neck of the woods quite recently as she visited Llangollen last December.

Anyway, the good news is me and the wife have got the day to ourselves for the first time in ages. We've already been out for breakfast and we plan to spend some quality time together house-hunting.

In other news it's been raining here overnight and was still spitting this morning. Unlike home, people here are glad to see the rain as the country is locked in it's worst drought in living memory.

The wife and I were awoken from our slumber last night by the loudest thunder I have ever heard. It sounded as though it was right above us. It was a different noise than that of thunder back home, it wasn't a sharp, crackling sound, more a dull, deeper and immensely louder din.

Talking of slumber, I've been having some quite vivid dreams over the last couple of nights. Nothing exciting I'm afraid, but the dream experts out there may be able to see some sort of meaning.

The night before last I dreamt that I was enjoying a snooze on some sort of temporary bed above a pub back home in Rhyl - not my local pub, but the George Hotel, where I worked many, many moons ago. I was awakened by the not unpleasant sight of Kirsty, the girl that runs my old local, delivering a masterpiece of a sandwich for my apres-nap consumption. It was the size of a bin lid and had salad garnish surrounding it on all sides. I continued to doze but, from time to time, stirred to stare at the sandwich which lay on a plate rested on my chest. I awoke several times, each time thinking, something along the lines of, 'Oooohhh, I'm looking forward to eating that sandwich'

However, when I'd finally finished my nap, I looked at the plate on my chest and it was empty, apart from a few tell-tale crumbs.

Kirsty appeared.

'What happened to my sandwich?' I asked despondently.

'Oh that,' she said, 'I sold it.'

I was gutted, so gutted that I woke up for real. I was starving too, so I dived straight into the fridge.

So, dream-readers, what do you make of that?

Turning Japanese

It's a big day for the girls tomorrow - they're going to their new school, Wodonga Primary.

We looked at lots of schools in the area, both north and south of the border, and they all seemed good. What made us plump for Wodonga was their Principal (Headmistress in old money). Her enthusiasm and friendliness was a joy to behold. And, most importantly, the girls liked this school best. They'll be learning Japanese!

We got all their new clobber yesterday. I can honestly say I've never known them so excited - I think they're plumb fed up of hanging around with me and their mum.

Punk'd!

Well, we've been here five days now and I'm starting to feel a tad at home.

I must admit to having felt a little deflated for the first couple of days. We were so excited about finally getting here but, after visiting the Gold Coast and Sydney, the place looked small and a bit behind the times.

Albury initially reminded me of Marty McFly's hometown in Back To The Future - when the Doc and him go back in time. That's not being insulting to the place, it's just like nowhere I've ever visited before and the only physical similarity I can see is to old-time American towns from the movies.

So, as you may be able to imagine, it was a bit of a culture shock to say the least. Five days in though, we're warming to the place.

We've joined a couple of social clubs in town and have made our first friends, Dave and Karen. Dave is ex-REME, same as me, and has transferred to the Aussie army. We'd been in contact by email via the British Expats website before we left the U.K., but on Sunday we met up with them at the Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen's Club in Albury. As I expected of an ex- British squaddie and his wife, they're earthy, funny and excellent company. Dave knows quite a few lads that I served with and it was great to hear how they've progressed in life. We enjoyed our day with them very much.

The wife had her second interview with the city council yesterday. It must have gone well because they asked her to go for a functionality test that afternoon.

She went along and was thoroughly checked over by a physio. Following that they had her moving chairs around, doing some shoulder press reps with a PC monitor and then, and this is the funny bit, crawling under desks! Ten times they made her crawl under this desk, stand up at the other end, get back down and crawl back to the other side! I personally think she's been secretly filmed and will be appearing on Australia's Funniest Home Videos in the next series.

She's never been much of a crawler, but they liked what they saw because she's been offered the job.

Brunstrom's Brother

After an epic journey we have finally arrived in our adopted hometown of Albury, New South Wales.

To actually be here, after casing the joint out on the internet for over a year, was amongst the most surreal experiences I have ever had.

We drove down Dean Street, Albury's main drag, past all the shops, pubs, clubs and food outlets that I'd been reading about in the Border Mail online. Past Sweethearts Pizza, scene of many a newsworthy, late-night scuffle.

It was turning dusk when we arrived, but first impressions are quite positive. Unbelievably one of the first sights we saw on our arrival was a road-wide banner advertising the Albury Wodonga Eisteddfod! The exclamation mark at the end of that sentence may seem misplaced to any of my readers outside of Wales, but, to folks back home, they'll know exactly where I'm coming from.

We've rented ourselves a two-bedroomed unit, care of the Albury Motor Village in nearby Lavington. It's only for a fortnight provisionally until we find somewhere suitable for long term residence.

The trip from Sydney took six hours and wasn't a chore at all. We were excited about finally heading to Albury and the road was uncluttered and open.

So open in fact that, in my eagerness to get here, I got pinged for speeding. They're quite strict on it here in New South Wales much like they are in Old North Wales. Perhaps the notorious Chief Constable from home has got family here.

However, in true Aussie fashion, the experience wasn't an unpleasant one in the slightest. No 'cloak and dagger' sneaky photos here. The 'busy' in question was sitting in his car on the grassy central reservation when I sped past at 136kmh causing his car to shake and, no doubt, him to spill his brew. He pulled out of his 'hide', whacked the red and blue lights on and began his pursuit, Roscoe P. Coltrane style.

I was briefly tempted to do what Bo and Luke Duke would have done in my position, but decided it against it - our car is alright, but it's no General Lee.

Anyhow I pulled over after what I thought was a respectable length of pursuit and faced Roscoe.

He was a decent chap. He introduced himself as a constable of the Yass Police. He informed me of the Aussie speed limits (110kmh), told me what speed I was doing, asked all about our travels and called me 'mate', which I thought was nice. Then he issued me, ever so politely, with a $238 fine.

Cheers mate.

Extra Time

We're having an extra day in Sydney.

The wife's got a job interview here for a position she applied for prior to us leaving the U.K. It's over the bridge in North Sydney and we've been over on the bus for a reccie today.

While she's getting grilled me and the kids are heading to Luna Park for some fairground fun, Coney Island style.

Sydney Sober

Sydney is a great place to hang out.

I came here with Deaf Dave eleven years ago but, pretty much, all we did was tank it up from the moment we arrived until we flew home.

This time around things are much different. The kids are here for one. Rather poignantly I was here in Sydney when the wife broke the news to me that she was expecting Robyn. I was half-cut in Manly to be exact, on a pay-phone. And on Sunday that's where we headed - Manly Beach to show the Robsta where her old man heard the news of her impending arrival.

Yesterday we went to Bondi Beach in the morning, The Rocks in the afternoon and Darling Harbour in the evening.

Dave and I set out to Bondi but stopped off at the pub on the way to the beach and it was dark by the time we reached the ocean. Yesterday we arrived early on another beautiful Sydney winters morning. The beach was well populated with surfers and bathers and their playground was like a scene from a picture postcard - bluey-green sea with white-capped waves lapping the shore.

In The Rocks - where the First Fleet initially made camp in 1788, making it Sydney's oldest 'neighbourhood' - you get a real feel for the history of the place. Again, although we visited this area, this was something that passed me and Dave by.

Too little blood in our alcohol stream, no doubt.

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

G'day peeps.

Just a quickie as we're in an internet cafe in Sydney paying through the bugle for this.

Had a very interesting trip down to Sydney stopping off in Byron Bay, Coffs Harbour, Port Macquarie, Nelson Bay and Newcastle-Not-Upon-Tyne.

Whilst we were staying with Aussie Paul and Tracey in Newcastle we bought a car - a Ford Fairmont estate. It's a bit of a shed but it was only $2,500(about 1200 in proper money). It's a beast though, a 4 litre, straight six. The last time I drove a vehicle with a petrol engine this big, said vehicle was armour-plated, had tracks instead of wheels and was painted green.

We're lodging in the cheapskate-renowned Formula One in Kings Cross.

We're exploring Sydney until Wednesday and then heading off to Albury.

If the tank makes it, of course.