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.