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.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
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.
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.
Friday, August 10, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
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.
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.
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.
Sunday, August 05, 2007
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.
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.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Due South
In a few hours we leave The Sunshine State and head south to Sydney.
We pick up our hire car, a 4 litre Ford Falcon (or similar), at two o'clock this afternoon.
The plan is to reach Coffs Harbour tonight, spend tomorrow looking around it with Sean and his family and then continue on down the M1 to Newcastle to visit Paul and Tracey before arriving in Sydney for the weekend.
I may be unable to blog while we're travelling, I don't know. But, rest assured, I'll resume as soon as is possible.
I'll miss Hed and Annabel, they've been great. They're off to New Zealand this evening for a well-deserved holiday.
They've housed us, fed us and given us invaluable advice on all things Australian. They've ferried us around and been at our beck and call since we arrived and we'll forever be in their debt. Without them being at this end to meet us, things would have been so much harder and they've given us a fantastic introduction to the Aussie lifestyle.
It's going to be tough not having them around after today. I'm going to feel like a kid who's had the stabilisers taken off his bike.
I'll miss Queensland too. They've made us very welcome and, above all, they really appreciate the finer things in life - beer, pies and rugby league.
They've got a saying up here that describes the place pretty well;
'Queensland - beautiful one day, perfect the next'.
We pick up our hire car, a 4 litre Ford Falcon (or similar), at two o'clock this afternoon.
The plan is to reach Coffs Harbour tonight, spend tomorrow looking around it with Sean and his family and then continue on down the M1 to Newcastle to visit Paul and Tracey before arriving in Sydney for the weekend.
I may be unable to blog while we're travelling, I don't know. But, rest assured, I'll resume as soon as is possible.
I'll miss Hed and Annabel, they've been great. They're off to New Zealand this evening for a well-deserved holiday.
They've housed us, fed us and given us invaluable advice on all things Australian. They've ferried us around and been at our beck and call since we arrived and we'll forever be in their debt. Without them being at this end to meet us, things would have been so much harder and they've given us a fantastic introduction to the Aussie lifestyle.
It's going to be tough not having them around after today. I'm going to feel like a kid who's had the stabilisers taken off his bike.
I'll miss Queensland too. They've made us very welcome and, above all, they really appreciate the finer things in life - beer, pies and rugby league.
They've got a saying up here that describes the place pretty well;
'Queensland - beautiful one day, perfect the next'.
Monday, July 30, 2007
It's a Small World After All...
Today we re-visited Seaworld to enable the girls to have their frolic with the dolphins that they missed out on Friday, thanks largely to my inability to read instructions properly.
I'm glad we did. Not just because because the girls loved it, but, because while we were there, we miraculously bumped into fellow Rhylbillies, the Hassett family.
Sean Snr. and I have played rugby together in the past and it was amazing to meet and chat to them. They moved out here, to Coffs Harbour, Northern NSW, in May this year and were on a day trip to Seaworld today, when our paths crossed.
It was Robyn and Sean's daughter who recognised each other and they came over to chat. I was mooching around a nearby food outlet at this stage and as I returned to join the family I spotted Sean.
Anyway, we had a good old chin-wag and exchanged phone numbers. We're passing through Coffs on our journey south so we're going to stop off and visit them.
It's a big old haystack, Australia, and meeting someone you know so far away from home is almost beyond belief.
I'm glad we did. Not just because because the girls loved it, but, because while we were there, we miraculously bumped into fellow Rhylbillies, the Hassett family.
Sean Snr. and I have played rugby together in the past and it was amazing to meet and chat to them. They moved out here, to Coffs Harbour, Northern NSW, in May this year and were on a day trip to Seaworld today, when our paths crossed.
It was Robyn and Sean's daughter who recognised each other and they came over to chat. I was mooching around a nearby food outlet at this stage and as I returned to join the family I spotted Sean.
Anyway, we had a good old chin-wag and exchanged phone numbers. We're passing through Coffs on our journey south so we're going to stop off and visit them.
It's a big old haystack, Australia, and meeting someone you know so far away from home is almost beyond belief.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Life Begins At Forty
We all enjoyed Seaworld on Friday. I didn't think it would be my bag but I had a thoroughly good time.
It's owned and run by the same mob that have the one in Orlando, Florida. But, whereas the Orlando theme parks are all hustle and bustle, full to the brim, pay-through-the-nose affairs, the Aussie equivalent is typical of the country - big, spacious, laid back and relaxed.
We're going back on Monday as I misread the instructions for the girls' swimming with dolphins experience and we turned up late. The girls were well miffed and I was mad with myself for fluffing it up, but the lovely people at Seaworld have arranged for us to return to the park tomorrow, free of charge, so the girls can have their swim after all.
In fact, the Australian people have been great with us so far, with only a couple of exceptions - most notably, the rather rude chap who hammered on the toilet door and shouted "HURRY UP!' whilst I was enjoying a download in Surfers Paradise. Cheeky monkey.
Yesterday was Hed's 40th birthday and we had a busy day celebrating. It started with go-karting at 7.30am and then we had an all-day barbie down at the communal barbie-pit down by the lake in Pacific Pines.
This was my first chance to see the Aussie at play and I was eager to learn as much as I could. They were a pretty tame bunch compared to what I'm used to, with only one casualty - a skinny, young bird that got stretchered off at tea-time. Not surprising really, she had consumed more than her own body weight in wine.
The emphasis is definitely on the kids here, with all-day boozing just a sideline as oppose to being the main event, like back home.
Ah well, you can't have everything.
It's owned and run by the same mob that have the one in Orlando, Florida. But, whereas the Orlando theme parks are all hustle and bustle, full to the brim, pay-through-the-nose affairs, the Aussie equivalent is typical of the country - big, spacious, laid back and relaxed.
We're going back on Monday as I misread the instructions for the girls' swimming with dolphins experience and we turned up late. The girls were well miffed and I was mad with myself for fluffing it up, but the lovely people at Seaworld have arranged for us to return to the park tomorrow, free of charge, so the girls can have their swim after all.
In fact, the Australian people have been great with us so far, with only a couple of exceptions - most notably, the rather rude chap who hammered on the toilet door and shouted "HURRY UP!' whilst I was enjoying a download in Surfers Paradise. Cheeky monkey.
Yesterday was Hed's 40th birthday and we had a busy day celebrating. It started with go-karting at 7.30am and then we had an all-day barbie down at the communal barbie-pit down by the lake in Pacific Pines.
This was my first chance to see the Aussie at play and I was eager to learn as much as I could. They were a pretty tame bunch compared to what I'm used to, with only one casualty - a skinny, young bird that got stretchered off at tea-time. Not surprising really, she had consumed more than her own body weight in wine.
The emphasis is definitely on the kids here, with all-day boozing just a sideline as oppose to being the main event, like back home.
Ah well, you can't have everything.
Friday, July 27, 2007
In The Deep Mid-Winter
Today we're going to Seaworld.
The girls are mucho excited as they'll be swimming with dolphins.
Yesterday, while Hed and I went golfing, Annabel took wifey and the girls to see some kangaroos. They saw loads including some 'joeys' and they loved it.
The weather here is beautiful, even though it's the height of winter. It's been in the twenties every day since we arrived, without so much as a drop of rain. Which, having left the wettest place on earth, makes a welcome change. Hed took the cover off the swimming pool yesterday and we had a dip, but it was freezing so we ended up pool-side on the sun loungers.
I still haven't shaken off the jet-lag, although this morning I had a 'lie-in' until five a.m. It also seems to be affecting the girls - they can't keep their eyes open at tea-time but are awake dead early. They keep me company, at least.
In other news, our long-lost shoe bag finally arrived - it had been left behind in Manchester.
We have our shoes back, we are complete.
The girls are mucho excited as they'll be swimming with dolphins.
Yesterday, while Hed and I went golfing, Annabel took wifey and the girls to see some kangaroos. They saw loads including some 'joeys' and they loved it.
The weather here is beautiful, even though it's the height of winter. It's been in the twenties every day since we arrived, without so much as a drop of rain. Which, having left the wettest place on earth, makes a welcome change. Hed took the cover off the swimming pool yesterday and we had a dip, but it was freezing so we ended up pool-side on the sun loungers.
I still haven't shaken off the jet-lag, although this morning I had a 'lie-in' until five a.m. It also seems to be affecting the girls - they can't keep their eyes open at tea-time but are awake dead early. They keep me company, at least.
In other news, our long-lost shoe bag finally arrived - it had been left behind in Manchester.
We have our shoes back, we are complete.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Shoeless in Surfers
We arrived in Brisbane at eight o'clock local time. Hed and Annabel were at the gate to meet us with little pressies for the kids. Which was nice.
It was great to see them and they both look tanned and well.
They live about an hour from the airport in a place called Pacific Pines, near Surfers Paradise. Their house is immense, a massive four-bedder with a pool. Its the type of house that dreams are made of.
We've had a couple of mishaps already - I managed to leave my mobile phone in the bog on the plane from Singapore to Brisbane and someone had it away. And Singapore Airlines have mis-laid one of our bags. The big black one with everyone's shoes in it.
It's half four in the morning here now and everyone apart from me is fast asleep. I woke up half an hour ago with jet-lag and I'm wide awake. I think I'll take a look at whats on offer in Hed's fridge.
Tomorrow, after sorting out banking, tax and medicare, we're heading down to Surfers to check out the beach. It's mid-winter here so I don't know what it'll be like. It was warm enough to sit out til half ten last night and have a few beers though, but I don't know what's forecast today.
Some fun, I hope.
It was great to see them and they both look tanned and well.
They live about an hour from the airport in a place called Pacific Pines, near Surfers Paradise. Their house is immense, a massive four-bedder with a pool. Its the type of house that dreams are made of.
We've had a couple of mishaps already - I managed to leave my mobile phone in the bog on the plane from Singapore to Brisbane and someone had it away. And Singapore Airlines have mis-laid one of our bags. The big black one with everyone's shoes in it.
It's half four in the morning here now and everyone apart from me is fast asleep. I woke up half an hour ago with jet-lag and I'm wide awake. I think I'll take a look at whats on offer in Hed's fridge.
Tomorrow, after sorting out banking, tax and medicare, we're heading down to Surfers to check out the beach. It's mid-winter here so I don't know what it'll be like. It was warm enough to sit out til half ten last night and have a few beers though, but I don't know what's forecast today.
Some fun, I hope.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Crying Eyes
We're at Changi Airport, Singapore. Making the most of the excellent facilities including free internet access.
Its six a.m. local time and eleven at night in the good old U.K. We've got three hours here before our connecting flight to Brisbane.
So far so good. Singapore Airlines are very good. The entertainment system in the headrest in front has eighty movies, hundreds of quality telly programs, more cd's than you can shake a stick at and hundreds of arcade games to play. I've never known twelve waking hours pass so quickly.
Our leaving do was a good night. Loads of people turned up and we got a stack of cards, pressies, dosh and, most importantly, free booze. It got a bit emotional at the end but that was nothing compared to saying goodbye to everyone in the cold light of the following day.
I've been very naive, thinking I would breeze through these farewells with a smile on my face. I'd read and heard of other peoples experiences but completely underestimated the strength of feeling I felt on Sunday.
I woke up feeling sick, not with nausea but with dread. I simply didn't want to leave. It's as if it wasn't real before, but now, all of a sudden, it was very real - we were leaving our hometown, family and life-long friends behind for who knows how long.
Saying goodbye to our parents was bad enough but the mass farewell we had outside our local, the Esplanade Club, was very heavy.
I bawled like a girl half-way to Manchester Airport.
Its six a.m. local time and eleven at night in the good old U.K. We've got three hours here before our connecting flight to Brisbane.
So far so good. Singapore Airlines are very good. The entertainment system in the headrest in front has eighty movies, hundreds of quality telly programs, more cd's than you can shake a stick at and hundreds of arcade games to play. I've never known twelve waking hours pass so quickly.
Our leaving do was a good night. Loads of people turned up and we got a stack of cards, pressies, dosh and, most importantly, free booze. It got a bit emotional at the end but that was nothing compared to saying goodbye to everyone in the cold light of the following day.
I've been very naive, thinking I would breeze through these farewells with a smile on my face. I'd read and heard of other peoples experiences but completely underestimated the strength of feeling I felt on Sunday.
I woke up feeling sick, not with nausea but with dread. I simply didn't want to leave. It's as if it wasn't real before, but now, all of a sudden, it was very real - we were leaving our hometown, family and life-long friends behind for who knows how long.
Saying goodbye to our parents was bad enough but the mass farewell we had outside our local, the Esplanade Club, was very heavy.
I bawled like a girl half-way to Manchester Airport.
Sunday, July 22, 2007
Work Hard, Party Harder!
Two hours before our leaving do.
It's been an absolutely manic week and we've worked our socks off.
It's all done now, the house is an empty shell. The lads from John Mason International, our movers, were absolutely brilliant. I don't know what kind of dough they're on but they earn every penny.
All we've got to do now is go out and get well and truly spannered. Now that we can do. With bells on.
The kids have got their party clothes on, the wife has loaded up with fake tan and I've treated myself to a shower. We're ready.
Tonight, we're having it large.
It's been an absolutely manic week and we've worked our socks off.
It's all done now, the house is an empty shell. The lads from John Mason International, our movers, were absolutely brilliant. I don't know what kind of dough they're on but they earn every penny.
All we've got to do now is go out and get well and truly spannered. Now that we can do. With bells on.
The kids have got their party clothes on, the wife has loaded up with fake tan and I've treated myself to a shower. We're ready.
Tonight, we're having it large.
Friday, July 20, 2007
Week of Weeks
The worst appears to be over. Physically speaking that is.
The movers arrived this morning and, after a quick brew, got stuck straight into it. It's three o'clock now and they reckon they'll work until seven this evening and come back and load the container at nine tomorrow morning. We should be done by lunch-time.
It's been a roller coaster of a week for me personally speaking. The wife has been her usual rock-solid, unflappable, industrious self and the kids are getting more excited by the day - but me, my mood has been changing like the weather and, as any resident of this island would surely concur, the weather has been unbelievable in its variety of late.
However, as the end of this week nears and, finally, there appears to be a light at the end of the tunnel, I'm beginning to feel more like I would have expected to feel.
The car has been sold today and there's a chap called Steve winging his way north from Plymouth as I type to collect it. Good timing, we leave on Sunday.
So, tomorrow lunch-time, the house should be empty, the movers should be gone, as should the car and we should be considerably richer than we are today. Lovely jubbly.
All that remains then are a few points of admin, some last-minute cleaning/painting and, to round the week off, our leaving bash on Saturday night.
Should be a good night. Some of our oldest friends are coming from various parts of the UK and, of course, all the local friends and family. I'm looking forward to it, but in a strange way.
Parting is such sweet sorrow.
The movers arrived this morning and, after a quick brew, got stuck straight into it. It's three o'clock now and they reckon they'll work until seven this evening and come back and load the container at nine tomorrow morning. We should be done by lunch-time.
It's been a roller coaster of a week for me personally speaking. The wife has been her usual rock-solid, unflappable, industrious self and the kids are getting more excited by the day - but me, my mood has been changing like the weather and, as any resident of this island would surely concur, the weather has been unbelievable in its variety of late.
However, as the end of this week nears and, finally, there appears to be a light at the end of the tunnel, I'm beginning to feel more like I would have expected to feel.
The car has been sold today and there's a chap called Steve winging his way north from Plymouth as I type to collect it. Good timing, we leave on Sunday.
So, tomorrow lunch-time, the house should be empty, the movers should be gone, as should the car and we should be considerably richer than we are today. Lovely jubbly.
All that remains then are a few points of admin, some last-minute cleaning/painting and, to round the week off, our leaving bash on Saturday night.
Should be a good night. Some of our oldest friends are coming from various parts of the UK and, of course, all the local friends and family. I'm looking forward to it, but in a strange way.
Parting is such sweet sorrow.
Monday, July 16, 2007
Thatcher's Millions
Finished work on Friday. So did the wife. Both went on our respective leaving do's.
Wifey went on the beer around Liverpool with her crew while I had a box-standard night out in Sunny Rhyl.
We both had a good time.
We also did really well on the leaving present front amassing some $550 of the Aussie variety. I was also given a boomerang which I managed to lose after an experimental 'throw' down Rhyl High Street. I think it's on the roof of 'Listers' but I can't be sure. It just seemed to vanish mid-flight.
So now, for the first time in our lives, we're both unemployed. Unfortunately though, we can't afford to do any lazing around as we've got an absolute sh1t-load of 'stuff' to do before we jet-off next week. The excitement of going has been well and truly neutralized by the sheer work-load in front of us, coupled with the sadness of saying goodbye to so many people.
It's a weird sensation this 'leaving' business. One that I'd struggle to explain. It's akin to attending your own wake, all these people saying nice things about you, the realisation that you're going to be missed. Quite often in the least expected quarters.
Ah well, life goes on.
Wifey went on the beer around Liverpool with her crew while I had a box-standard night out in Sunny Rhyl.
We both had a good time.
We also did really well on the leaving present front amassing some $550 of the Aussie variety. I was also given a boomerang which I managed to lose after an experimental 'throw' down Rhyl High Street. I think it's on the roof of 'Listers' but I can't be sure. It just seemed to vanish mid-flight.
So now, for the first time in our lives, we're both unemployed. Unfortunately though, we can't afford to do any lazing around as we've got an absolute sh1t-load of 'stuff' to do before we jet-off next week. The excitement of going has been well and truly neutralized by the sheer work-load in front of us, coupled with the sadness of saying goodbye to so many people.
It's a weird sensation this 'leaving' business. One that I'd struggle to explain. It's akin to attending your own wake, all these people saying nice things about you, the realisation that you're going to be missed. Quite often in the least expected quarters.
Ah well, life goes on.
Saturday, July 07, 2007
Smell Ya Later!
T minus 17 days. And counting...
Today I said my first goodbyes. Not your normal 'see you later/tomorrow' goodbyes, but the abnormal 'have a nice life/nice knowing you' goodbyes.
A couple of people at work are leaving for annual holidays and won't return until we've set off for Australia, so today was, very likely, the last time I'll ever see these people again.
Just another surreal experience to go with all the others I'm having lately.
Today I said my first goodbyes. Not your normal 'see you later/tomorrow' goodbyes, but the abnormal 'have a nice life/nice knowing you' goodbyes.
A couple of people at work are leaving for annual holidays and won't return until we've set off for Australia, so today was, very likely, the last time I'll ever see these people again.
Just another surreal experience to go with all the others I'm having lately.
Friday, June 29, 2007
Cruel Summer
Today was our youngest daughter, Lowri's, sports day.
It should have been yesterday, but, typically, it was postponed because of the rain.
And although the rain held off, the weather was absolute pony. I turned up in short sleeve order and after five minutes of dithering and watching Lowri, also in short sleeves, dither - I decided to nip home and get our cold weather kit. In my absence of fifteen minutes or so, I missed her first two races. She proudly showed me her two 'silver' medals for her second-place finishes as I gave her coat. She was shivering and grateful that I'd skipped across the track with it.
As the afternoon wore on more and more parents, realising their kids were in danger of going down with hypothermia, did the same thing.
As us parents and grandparents sat there freezing our collective knackers and knockers off, the kids performed admirably and Lowri won two 'golds' in the relay. Go Lowsta!!
Back to the weather. If ever I felt vindicated in making our decision to move to Australia then this afternoon was that moment. Earlier this year, as the meteorological experts predicated a baking hot summer, I predicated a summer of self-doubt, soul-searching and personal anguish over our decision to emigrate.
As it happens, things haven't turned out like that; we had a decent start to the summer with some hot days and balmy nights but for the last three weeks it's been dreadful. Rain has lashed this island in monsoon-like volume, causing flooding and misery to many. But for me, whilst I feel for the victims, the weather has helped me, easing the anguish of taking the kids away from their family and friends, justifying our hair-brained notion to move to the other side of the globe.
I'd estimate that the Australian climate compared to Britain's and the lifestyle that climate encourages is the biggest single factor by a long way in us making this move.
Today the weather sucked. Today was a good day.
It should have been yesterday, but, typically, it was postponed because of the rain.
And although the rain held off, the weather was absolute pony. I turned up in short sleeve order and after five minutes of dithering and watching Lowri, also in short sleeves, dither - I decided to nip home and get our cold weather kit. In my absence of fifteen minutes or so, I missed her first two races. She proudly showed me her two 'silver' medals for her second-place finishes as I gave her coat. She was shivering and grateful that I'd skipped across the track with it.
As the afternoon wore on more and more parents, realising their kids were in danger of going down with hypothermia, did the same thing.
As us parents and grandparents sat there freezing our collective knackers and knockers off, the kids performed admirably and Lowri won two 'golds' in the relay. Go Lowsta!!
Back to the weather. If ever I felt vindicated in making our decision to move to Australia then this afternoon was that moment. Earlier this year, as the meteorological experts predicated a baking hot summer, I predicated a summer of self-doubt, soul-searching and personal anguish over our decision to emigrate.
As it happens, things haven't turned out like that; we had a decent start to the summer with some hot days and balmy nights but for the last three weeks it's been dreadful. Rain has lashed this island in monsoon-like volume, causing flooding and misery to many. But for me, whilst I feel for the victims, the weather has helped me, easing the anguish of taking the kids away from their family and friends, justifying our hair-brained notion to move to the other side of the globe.
I'd estimate that the Australian climate compared to Britain's and the lifestyle that climate encourages is the biggest single factor by a long way in us making this move.
Today the weather sucked. Today was a good day.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
For Queen and Country
Saturday was one of the proudest days of my life.
We went to London to watch our son take part in the Trooping of the Colour, the Queens Official birthday parade.
He's a member of 3 Company, 1st Battalion Welsh Guards, currently based in London.
It was the Colour of the Coldstream Guards that was being 'trooped' but the majority of the soldiers, NCO's and officers on parade were from the Welsh Guards, with the battalion providing almost four hundred men.
I've watched the event since my youth in the seventies, but to actually be there and with Cory taking part, was a truly unforgettable experience.
He's only eighteen, our boy. Yet, already, he's been in the regular army for almost two and a half years, he's been on an operational tour to Bosnia, has done umpteen Royal guards at Windsor and in London, he's passed his driving test, boxed, skied and has made his mum and dad very proud.
We had great seats for the parade, the weather held(just!) and, whilst Cory's little sisters have become a tad blase about seeing him in his tunic and bearskin in the presence of Her Majesty, we thoroughly enjoyed the event.
He's a modest young chap too - while his mates hung around in their uniforms and medals to pose for photos, Cory was out of his as soon as he could, preferring to get into his comfy civvies and have a pint rather than be the centre of attention.
And what does a young guardsman do of an evening after his first 'Troop'?
Our boy took his little sisters to the pictures.
We went to London to watch our son take part in the Trooping of the Colour, the Queens Official birthday parade.
He's a member of 3 Company, 1st Battalion Welsh Guards, currently based in London.
It was the Colour of the Coldstream Guards that was being 'trooped' but the majority of the soldiers, NCO's and officers on parade were from the Welsh Guards, with the battalion providing almost four hundred men.
I've watched the event since my youth in the seventies, but to actually be there and with Cory taking part, was a truly unforgettable experience.
He's only eighteen, our boy. Yet, already, he's been in the regular army for almost two and a half years, he's been on an operational tour to Bosnia, has done umpteen Royal guards at Windsor and in London, he's passed his driving test, boxed, skied and has made his mum and dad very proud.
We had great seats for the parade, the weather held(just!) and, whilst Cory's little sisters have become a tad blase about seeing him in his tunic and bearskin in the presence of Her Majesty, we thoroughly enjoyed the event.
He's a modest young chap too - while his mates hung around in their uniforms and medals to pose for photos, Cory was out of his as soon as he could, preferring to get into his comfy civvies and have a pint rather than be the centre of attention.
And what does a young guardsman do of an evening after his first 'Troop'?
Our boy took his little sisters to the pictures.
Friday, June 15, 2007
Wet Wet Wet
Despite the weather my golfing renaissance continued this week.
I've been playing the game sporadically, without success, for the best part of twenty years.
However, a couple of years back, following my rugby retirement, I decided it was time I made a concerted effort to become a competent player. I didn't want to join the PGA Tour or anything serious like that, I just wanted to be able to smack one off the first tee without being embarrassed because the divot went further than the ball.
I recall being on holiday with the family in Florida - we rented a villa on this lush golf complex just outside of Orlando. I watched the golfers going round every day, chatting, joking and playing. I thought 'I fancy some of this'. The course was a beaut, just like something off the telly. Immaculately presented and painstakingly-well maintained with the greenest grass, the whitest of sand with shimmering water features (I was later to learn these are actually called 'hazards'.)
A couple of days into the holiday I timidly approached the resplendent clubhouse, just to have a mooch round to see what I could learn about this game and its culture. To a working-class lad like me, the game, its players and their facilities, were held in Freemason-like esteem. I'm not sure esteem is the right word actually, nor Freemason for that matter, but it certainly had a foreboding effect on me and those like me. Like we were on the outside and they were on the in. Hence my trepidation as I walked through the doors and exited the brilliant Florida sunshine. To my surprise nobody pounced on me questioning the legitimacy of my presence or, in fact, raised so much as an eyebrow as I approached the bar. On the contrary, I was made to feel most welcome. Perhaps I look like a golfer, I thought to myself. Anyway golfer or not, I spent the best part of an enjoyable afternoon there, just watching the comings and goings, ear-wigging and drinking. I returned the next day with my Dad, I felt quite the local as a few of the people I was spying on the day before extended rather pleasing 'nods' in my direction. Theme parks beckoned though and I was forced to miss the next couple of afternoons.
Whilst the wife,kids and my mum, understandably, revelled in the 'magic' of Disney, to me and, to some extent, my dad, the golf clubhouse had become the focal point of our holiday. We returned as often as possible for our afternoon bevvy and towards the end of our fortnight I had plucked up the courage to have a go on the driving range. A day later, the posh old Scouser in the villa next door beckoned me over to his poolside from ours.
'Saw you and your dad coming out of the golf club yesterday. I'm dying for a game, do you play?' he asked.
'Er, yes' I spluttered out, a lie fuelled by the King of Beers. Even I knew that playing once or twice a summer on pitch and putt did not make me a 'player'.
'Oh great' said Posh Scouse, 'we'll have a round tomorrow then.'
For a moment I thought about accepting, then I had a vision of me spinning around and landing on my arse on the first tee in front of all my new golf friends looking on from the clubhouse. Like the good book says, 'better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt'.
'I can't, er, I think we're off to the Florida Mall, shopping.'
'What about the day after?' Scouse persisted.
'We're doing Epcot' I fired back. The King of Beers was now assisting me to get out of the tangle that it had assisted me to get into in the first place.
'Never mind then,' he said, his disappointment clear. 'We're going home after that.'
'Yeah, I would've loved to have played on a course like this.' I said glancing over my shoulder at the fairway behind me. This time I wasn't lying.
Later that day I decided that on our return home I would fill my sporting void by joining Rhyl Golf Club and perhaps, one day, return to this course and, not only look the part but play the part too.
That was two years ago. I did join Rhyl Golf Club when we got home and I played all summer long. It was hard at first and it didn't get any easier. I already had some friends that were members and I made a few new ones along the way, all of them offering advice, tips and guidance. But, whilst gratefully received, it was to no avail - I was actually getting worse. Not just making little or no progress but actually going backwards. I damaged two passing cars on two separate occasions with slices that defied the laws of physics. I toughed out the year of membership and when it lapsed I didn't renew. Using the 'we're waiting for our visa, it could come at anytime' line when asked by my long-suffering golf buddies why I hadn't re-joined. I think some of them were quite relieved. Local motorists certainly were.
So, that was that. Golf wasn't for me. I wasn't too upset , after all it wasn't like I hadn't tried. The clubs were banished to the shed, fortunately I hadn't invested too heavily on equipment - I got the lot for £60 second-hand, and I thought I might dust the old rugby boots off again. And that's what I did, played another season for the seconds and felt like I'd been involved in an RTA all week following a game.
And that was that until a month ago when I was invited for a game. At the time I was feeling particularly stressed about our upcoming move and felt that it might take my mind off things by playing. And play I did, relatively speaking anyway. Only played the best round of my life! Thinking it was a fluke I returned a week later. Same again, played really well by my standards, albeit low standards.
I played again last night and although I didn't play as well as the previous two rounds, I still enjoyed it and played some good shots, especially off the tee. The weather was absolute pony. It waited until we got as far away from the clubhouse as possible then lashed it down big-time. We played out the nine as it was on the way back but survival became more important than good golf as the monsoon raged. The four of us were like drowned rats on our return. I didn't get that wet the last time I went swimming.
Its going to rain all week they reckon, so the golf will have to wait. I'm eager to see if my form continues or whether I've lost my golf mojo once again. The weather sucks but my golf doesn't, for a change. Funny old game innit?
I've been playing the game sporadically, without success, for the best part of twenty years.
However, a couple of years back, following my rugby retirement, I decided it was time I made a concerted effort to become a competent player. I didn't want to join the PGA Tour or anything serious like that, I just wanted to be able to smack one off the first tee without being embarrassed because the divot went further than the ball.
I recall being on holiday with the family in Florida - we rented a villa on this lush golf complex just outside of Orlando. I watched the golfers going round every day, chatting, joking and playing. I thought 'I fancy some of this'. The course was a beaut, just like something off the telly. Immaculately presented and painstakingly-well maintained with the greenest grass, the whitest of sand with shimmering water features (I was later to learn these are actually called 'hazards'.)
A couple of days into the holiday I timidly approached the resplendent clubhouse, just to have a mooch round to see what I could learn about this game and its culture. To a working-class lad like me, the game, its players and their facilities, were held in Freemason-like esteem. I'm not sure esteem is the right word actually, nor Freemason for that matter, but it certainly had a foreboding effect on me and those like me. Like we were on the outside and they were on the in. Hence my trepidation as I walked through the doors and exited the brilliant Florida sunshine. To my surprise nobody pounced on me questioning the legitimacy of my presence or, in fact, raised so much as an eyebrow as I approached the bar. On the contrary, I was made to feel most welcome. Perhaps I look like a golfer, I thought to myself. Anyway golfer or not, I spent the best part of an enjoyable afternoon there, just watching the comings and goings, ear-wigging and drinking. I returned the next day with my Dad, I felt quite the local as a few of the people I was spying on the day before extended rather pleasing 'nods' in my direction. Theme parks beckoned though and I was forced to miss the next couple of afternoons.
Whilst the wife,kids and my mum, understandably, revelled in the 'magic' of Disney, to me and, to some extent, my dad, the golf clubhouse had become the focal point of our holiday. We returned as often as possible for our afternoon bevvy and towards the end of our fortnight I had plucked up the courage to have a go on the driving range. A day later, the posh old Scouser in the villa next door beckoned me over to his poolside from ours.
'Saw you and your dad coming out of the golf club yesterday. I'm dying for a game, do you play?' he asked.
'Er, yes' I spluttered out, a lie fuelled by the King of Beers. Even I knew that playing once or twice a summer on pitch and putt did not make me a 'player'.
'Oh great' said Posh Scouse, 'we'll have a round tomorrow then.'
For a moment I thought about accepting, then I had a vision of me spinning around and landing on my arse on the first tee in front of all my new golf friends looking on from the clubhouse. Like the good book says, 'better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt'.
'I can't, er, I think we're off to the Florida Mall, shopping.'
'What about the day after?' Scouse persisted.
'We're doing Epcot' I fired back. The King of Beers was now assisting me to get out of the tangle that it had assisted me to get into in the first place.
'Never mind then,' he said, his disappointment clear. 'We're going home after that.'
'Yeah, I would've loved to have played on a course like this.' I said glancing over my shoulder at the fairway behind me. This time I wasn't lying.
Later that day I decided that on our return home I would fill my sporting void by joining Rhyl Golf Club and perhaps, one day, return to this course and, not only look the part but play the part too.
That was two years ago. I did join Rhyl Golf Club when we got home and I played all summer long. It was hard at first and it didn't get any easier. I already had some friends that were members and I made a few new ones along the way, all of them offering advice, tips and guidance. But, whilst gratefully received, it was to no avail - I was actually getting worse. Not just making little or no progress but actually going backwards. I damaged two passing cars on two separate occasions with slices that defied the laws of physics. I toughed out the year of membership and when it lapsed I didn't renew. Using the 'we're waiting for our visa, it could come at anytime' line when asked by my long-suffering golf buddies why I hadn't re-joined. I think some of them were quite relieved. Local motorists certainly were.
So, that was that. Golf wasn't for me. I wasn't too upset , after all it wasn't like I hadn't tried. The clubs were banished to the shed, fortunately I hadn't invested too heavily on equipment - I got the lot for £60 second-hand, and I thought I might dust the old rugby boots off again. And that's what I did, played another season for the seconds and felt like I'd been involved in an RTA all week following a game.
And that was that until a month ago when I was invited for a game. At the time I was feeling particularly stressed about our upcoming move and felt that it might take my mind off things by playing. And play I did, relatively speaking anyway. Only played the best round of my life! Thinking it was a fluke I returned a week later. Same again, played really well by my standards, albeit low standards.
I played again last night and although I didn't play as well as the previous two rounds, I still enjoyed it and played some good shots, especially off the tee. The weather was absolute pony. It waited until we got as far away from the clubhouse as possible then lashed it down big-time. We played out the nine as it was on the way back but survival became more important than good golf as the monsoon raged. The four of us were like drowned rats on our return. I didn't get that wet the last time I went swimming.
Its going to rain all week they reckon, so the golf will have to wait. I'm eager to see if my form continues or whether I've lost my golf mojo once again. The weather sucks but my golf doesn't, for a change. Funny old game innit?
Wednesday, June 06, 2007
The Longest Day
Seven weeks to go.
Tomorrow is our wedding anniversary. Nine years ago on June 6th we got hitched. Despite the weather (it lashed down all day), we had a ball.
As any military historian will tell you we share our anniversary with that of Operation Overlord.
Our celebrations this year will take the form of a visit to the wife's favourite eatery, Subway, for a tasty sandwich, followed by a trip to my favourite drinkery, The Swan, for a refreshing beverage or two. We may even take in the England/Estonia game while we're at it.
Sounds idyllic doesn't it?
Tomorrow is our wedding anniversary. Nine years ago on June 6th we got hitched. Despite the weather (it lashed down all day), we had a ball.
As any military historian will tell you we share our anniversary with that of Operation Overlord.
Our celebrations this year will take the form of a visit to the wife's favourite eatery, Subway, for a tasty sandwich, followed by a trip to my favourite drinkery, The Swan, for a refreshing beverage or two. We may even take in the England/Estonia game while we're at it.
Sounds idyllic doesn't it?
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