Trans Tasman Timmy

I'm excited.

Five sleeps to go before our friends, Tim and Louise, arrive from New Zealand for a fortnights holiday with us.

Me and Tim go back a long way, our friendship forged on the rugby league fields of England's north west. Timmy was a no-nonsense front rower and one of my sporting heroes.

I remember the first time we met - we were playing at a sevens tournament in Blackpool when this almighty brawl broke out. Timmy wasn't playing in the game but was on the sideline cheering us on, wearing his best clothes ready for a night out on the town. It was a mucky day and Tim had borrowed an umbrella to keep himself dry. The brawl started on the pitch but soon spilled over to the benches. Timmy, who never needed asking twice to participate in such proceedings, discarded his brolly to join in the fun, forgetting the fact that he had his best gear on. My lasting memory of the incident was seeing him stood there 'wind-milling' his way through half of their team! He flattened loads of them and even managed to get himself undressed in the middle of it all. I can see him now, covered in mud, picking up bits of his clothing and hunting around the floor for his watch when the fighting ceased.

I decided that day that I'd like to have him as a friend. Since then we've had loads of laughs together, both on the rugby field and off it. Even though Tim lived in Rochdale we always kept in touch and got together, even after we'd finished playing.

Tim and Lou moved to New Zealand with Tim's job, a couple of years ago and were a big influence on our decision to emigrate. Whenever I was feeling homesick earlier in the proceedings, Tim was always on the end of the phone for me, cheering me up and making me laugh, like he always does. We still chat for at least an hour a week on the blower and I look forward to his calls.

And now they're coming to Oz for a holiday. They arrive in Melbourne on Friday and will both be celebrating their fortieth birthdays while they're with us.

Bring it on!