Saturday 31 October 2009

Monday 26 October 2009

Cheddar

We left work early, left London late
to explore more of England and farewell a mate.
With provisions of noodles and Vegemite to snack
our luggage and boardgames we had in the back.
For three hours we drove through the highway darkness,
the GPS useless; we had no address.

Like the old man who wandered the street
we were lost, disorientated and suffering defeat.
It was dark, it was cold we'd driven for miles
our only landmark a pub with red tiles.
Four doors from there, we were told
West Moor Cottage our haven, our shelter from the cold.

We promised her eleven, twelve no later.
She revoked the contract, that old hater.
Enlisting the help of our local Saviour
we bargained and negotiated and asked for a favour.
Until she and her husband made amend
they agreed six could stay for the weekend.

The following day we woke to eggs and bacon.
A man in the kitchen, we were mistaken.
Saturday the caves, the goats, the cheese and the tower.
All trip long we argued the word 'flour'!
An afternoon of Cream Tea, the scones were unreal
before retiring to Wells for the evening meal.

Factoids, Humdingers and Cameos the attraction.
Cheese and Gin the main distraction.
Huddled, we sung under the starry night sky
Two shooting stars, why would I lie?
We readied for bed. Too tired to shower.
Revelation! It's daylight savings, lets stay up for another hour!

The house was cleaned and the men left last.
Glastonbury's Vegetarian breakfast - what a plastic farce.
Wookey Hole was rubbish so we unanimously agreed
to head back to Cheddar for a Sunday roast feed.
The drive home was easy with no need to hurry
so we opted for a Korean Dinner in nearby Surrey.

So there it is, our road trip in poem.
An epic weekend to Somerset then back home.

The singing, the cheese and the Nintendo DS
not to be forgotten, until next weekend's fancy dress.
A great trip. Good company. An indelible time.
So much so, I blogged this awful rhyme.



Thursday 15 October 2009

Always take the weather with you

This week marks two departures from London. Firstly, I think it's safe to say that London has felt its last ounce of warmth; Winter has set in. It's become bloody cold, bloody quick. Temperatures have dropped below 10 degrees and with that we bid farewell to the thongs and t-shirts and become reacquainted with jackets and our radiators. The upside is that I no longer have to properly iron my business shirts. A quick iron over the collars plus a fresh sweater and I'm ready for work; Little consolation really.


Over the last 18 months I have been fortunate enough to have met some really awesome people. I usually categorise my close friends as people I've shared life-changing experiences with or those who have been with me over a life-defining period. The two groups that immediately spring to mind are: High school friends and University friends.

So to this I add a new group: The London expat group. I had expected to come overseas and gain a greater perspective on the world. Live independently, travel abroad, open my eyes. What I had not expected was to meet people that I would share with me some of the best times of my life. The red eye flights, the same over crowded hostel, the same lousy discount carrier experience, the smiles, the laughter and even the tears of seeing friends leave.

The second departure ushers in the end of an era. My London initiation was void of the usual heartache of having to re-establish a social circle. Upon arrival I had the luxury of knowing people from Sydney here in London. It made the first couple of months bearable. I had a couch, advice on being an expat and for me, the most desirable, familiar faces. The last 6 months has seen people slowly return back to Sydney with the last person leaving this week. All the people I knew prior to coming to the UK have all but gone home. It just means less chance of somebody trying to derail your detox plans for the week; Little consolation really.

"Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened." - Dr. Seuss

Monday 12 October 2009

My Birthday cameo

I celebrated last year's Birthday completely sober. Read: Completely sober. After 7 successive Birthdays being utterly intoxicated 2008's sober experience felt alarmingly foreign yet somewhat appropriate. This was a sign of things to come, I had mindfully pulled the handbrake on the reckless train of self-destruction. Maturity and self-preservation had prevailed. Unfortunately this was not a forecast of future Birthday processions. It would be a premature call and nothing more than an outlier; a statistical exception.

My recollection of October 9th is hazy at best. I remember being seated at my desk, a head popping up from the monitor in front of me saying "Are we going to the pub for your birthday?". I also remember rocking up to my birthday dinner at the Crown and Goose one hour late and extremely tipsy. I recall ordering the Roast Chicken and Pavlova. I remember not eating the pavlova. I remember a heartfelt Birthday speech. I remember being called "true blue", "a piss pot" and "a bastard". I remember drinking. I also remember being in a cab. I distinctively remember and vomiting 4 times at various places in Trafalgar Square much to the screaming of delirious passersby. I recall spending the best part of 5 minutes in Thai Square. I remember that SMS.


What a Birthday: Bring on 27!

Monday 5 October 2009

Why are you going there?

An impromptu trip over to Romania for a 30th Birthday weekend. Weather was miserable - I only took one photo (from inside a cab).


Not much doing - Stayed what can only be described as the Bucharest projects. Had a tour night guide. Typical boys' trip out to Eastern Europe.