More Shields’ down under

Our first round of family visits began this month with the arrival of my mum and sister who braved the crocs, spiders and snakes in the name of pan-hemispherical family life.

This being my mum’s first long-haul flight, jet-lag was a new experience for her and the senior moments now had a valid excuse.

Unfortunately, Crowded house said it best when they said “Everywhere you go, you always take the weather with you” and it pissed down the entire visit bar the first day. Chuck in a badly researched holiday “Cottage” which would’ve looked perfectly at home on the set of 8 Mile, and it was a less than typical Aussie experience for them. Next time, I’ll book better weather, I reckon.

Haway, the lads

I thought I would miss a bottle o’ dog for a long time before the comforting suds graced my taste buds once more but I bring joyous news in stubbie form! I’ve actually found a place that sells it (when I say, found – it’s the same place we get all our booze, they just happened to have it this time round). Either way, I’m well chuffed with the discovery and even more so with the fact that it tastes just as good as it does on UK soil – a major bonus. For some reason, they’ve decided that good things come in small packages though and whilst the bottles are exact replicas of their UK counterparts, they are to half scale and therefore only half the beer. To fill this gap in the fun stakes, I have invented a new game (which is surprisingly gathering some momentum amongst the local community). It’s a simple game (as mine often are) and not really a game as such as there is no main goal and no real winners however, Cath would argue that the game does involve at least one loser.

The idea is to get rather drunk and walk around the flat with your hand around the bottle whilst mustering your deepest voice and saying “I’M A GIAAANT!”. Hours of fun if not a little pointless.

Kings V Tigers

Cath and I attended our very first Sydney sporting event last week (if you don’t include indoor golf with Thomas and Hamish) and it was ace! I think I speak for myself a little more than I do for my lovely wife but to live somewhere with a local basketball team I can support has always been a minor goal for me and Cath seemed to not hate it too much to rule out going again.

Now, anyone expecting the grace and athleticism of the NBA might as well stop reading now cos the Australian game is pretty physical and a slightly lower standard in refereeing means that the odd push, punch and shove along with a few travelling errors go regularly unnoticed. The crowd’s a passionate bunch too and it felt a bit like Scunny away to Millwall, only this time I was on the louder side.

Anyhow it was game 3 of a best of five finals series against Melbourne with each team having won 1 game. The Kings were down by 12 in the 4th and somehow managed to claw their way back to the lead before losing in the final couple of minutes – tragic defeat but they won again last night in Melbourne which means that they have a homecourt advantage for the 5th and final game tomorrow, which unfortunately, I will have to listen to on the radio as we have guests for dinner. In short, I’m hooked and will definitely get a season ticket next year, I reckon – Let’s go, Sydney, let’s Go!

Thin Lizzy

To look at her, she’s got an arse the size of a tennis court but in the grand scheme of things, the QE2 is a slender beast worthy of a Weight Watchers Keyring. Especially when you see her big sister who paid a visit the other day – woah – she big!

I was fortunate enough to get caught up in the final Sydney departure of this mariners miracle on my way home from work. My ferry also passed through the water cannons and yacht parades that had lined up to wish the old bird well before she sets permanent anchor in Dubai as a floating hotel – which I already thought she was – maybe I’m missing something there. I’m sure that there will be a vast fleet of ships moored beside her in her new home to house the colossal air conditioning capable of freezing an entire nation that seems to be the Dubai way but I’m sure she will welcome the rest as she’s looking a little rough around the edges and in need of a quick coat of Hammerite (which I’m assured is the preferred coating for seaworthy vessels). Anyhow it’s an end of an era and it was also a great end to a less than average day which I’m glad to say that I’ll remember with fond memory for some time.

Sorry day

Today’s the day that Kevin ‘07 is making a late ‘08 apology to the indigenous population of Australia for all sorts of stuff. It seems to be a sensitive issue over here so I’m keeping myself ill informed and braving the backside pain that comes from sitting on the fence. I should really learn more about it all but at the moment I feel less than qualified to have a real opinion and so shall remain impartial for the time being. I have however, been making my own apologies of late. They tend to be less impactful on wider society and more to do with the amount of fruit I am eating these days but it makes me feel a part of something, nonetheless.

Little boxes made of ticky tacky…

The shipping finally arrived and boy, oh boy, did we pack some junk!

I was pretty certain that we’d been more ruthless than this but it would appear that the last minute rush has contributed heavily to our first Australian ‘Hard Rubbish Day’. Why I still have most of my uni books is a mystery and they are soon to become the latest addition to the local charity shop. Cath’s rollerblades look better than when we packed them after their steam clean courtesy of the Australian Customs department which she is very happy about. We’ve now got lots of pictures to put on the walls though which should start making Chez Shilleds Deux look more like a real home.

Happy Australia Day!

The good ole US of A have their 4th of July with all its wanky ceremonial nonsense and rifle toting over exuberance; The UK has its string of much loved and longed for bank holidays for spending on the motorway between friends and relatives and, having experienced both, I have to say that Australia day has got me wondering as to what, in the heady world of public holidays, could be better?

Having spent a measly $30 on Kayak hire, Cath and I, along with a couple of mates paddled across the harbour to a little cove known as Milk Beach (introduced to us as ‘Mulk Beach’ by our friendly South African boat master) to swim among the rocks and take in the boat and air shows taking place over our new home. The only pomp and circumstance you’ll find on this public holiday lies in beer, relaxation and just generally having a laugh with everyone (especially when you fall out of the boat… twice). A quick sleep in the park followed by a brief stop at the fish market to pick up some giant Tuna steaks and we’re set to finish off our very first Australia day with a couple of tinnies and an obligatory Barbie. You beaut!

New Years in North Sydney

In one of the most English experiences we’ve had since we’ve been here, we decided that we wouldn’t be going ’sarf ovva rivva’ for New Years Eve and opted for a North Bank affair.

Having camped out at the point for 9 hours with a large portion of the UK’s sport ’science’ students, I can say that I’m glad we went down to see the fireworks but reckon we’ll try something different next time. Quite frankly, I missed the toboggans.

However, this new year is looking like it’s going to be a cracker as I start my exciting new job next week and I can’t wait to get stuck in.

Christmas Down Under

It has to be said that although the weather has thrown a complete curveball to our Christmas emotions, Christmas day was a right royal affair that the most ardent of traditionalists could never deny. I still hold fast on my ’stop pretending it’s winter’ ideals but I am very grateful for Gill’s delicious Christmas lunch with all the trimmings which went a long way in bringing us back into line with the festive spirit. In fact, when the lights go down, Christmas in Australia is not so different after all (see exhibit A, right).

Santa Claus is coming to Surf!

Getting our heads around Christmas in the sun has been no easy task and I can’t quite understand why Aussie TV promotes a wintery Christmas as being ‘proper’. Surely they’re just setting themselves up to be disappointed! I was always brought up to believe that sunshine was a pretty good thing – couple this with a shedload of pressies and far too much chocolate and I reckon you’re onto a winner that should be exploited to the full as a unique Aussie experience. In a small attempt to promote this philosophy, we have purchased body boards with some Christmas money (thanks, Mum & Stuart) to fly the flag for a sunny festive season.

As I dismount from my high horse, I would like to point out the cutest Christmas Stockings in the southern hemisphere alongside an enormous pile of Christmas goodies that arrived in various shipments from Sue and Terry (thanks, guys). This has become our Christmas Tree of sorts as the traditional spruce just doesn’t fit in with the fruit bats and cockatoos.

Anyhow, with only one present left to buy and a mammoth gingerbread fiasco to reproduce, we’re almost there and it won’t be long before we wake up and smell the Turducken.