So it’s been a while since my last blog entry, mainly because I’ve been lazy and the days I could have been blogging I was actually on the beach, don’t roll your eyes, you would have done the same.
So what’s been happening Dan? How’s that building work next door? I take it they’ve finally stopped so you can get a good night’s sleep? Well actually no. Our neighbours who I refer to as Adolf and Eva are STILL bulldozing their house, in fact I reckon whatever it is they’re doing in there it would have been quicker to just bulldoze the place and start again from scratch.
We’ve had sharks at Manly beach which was all very exciting when Alison called me up to tell me. So being the dumbarse that I am, I figure I could run down there and check it out. Well I ran, for fifteen minutes straight at almost full pelt. Did I see the shark? Well yes...on the news that night. But having run all the way down there all I saw was firstly, no one in the water, no surprise there and one lifeboat going up and down the beach. Hardly Jaws. I was hoping to see an outstretched arm buried in the sand or a dodgy looking sailor with one leg saying things like ‘we’re going to need a bigger boat.’ Nothing. There’s 15 minutes of my life I’ll never get back. Nevermind.
What else, oh yeah I finished the first draft of my novel. No I won’t tell you what it’s about cos I’m superstitious and slightly anally retentive but it’s 77,000 words and now I’ve put it in a corner to ferment for a bit so I can come at it clean, so to speak.
Oh yeah, my tenant who does some sort of mysterious consulting work for the MOD in warzones has managed to step on a land mine in Afghanistan. Or he was playing Frisbee with it or something and has got himself hospitalized. So the rent, which was never really paid on the due date at the best of times, is now doubly late. Only I could find a tenant who likes to play with roadside explosives as a hobby. Typical.
Various people have come to visit out here which is interesting, as our place is the size of a small ironing board cupboard and you can just about fit four people in if everyone stands holding their breath. Alison’s parents are here at the mo, so we went up to the Whitsundays for her 30th, hired a seaplane and checked out the Great Barrier Reef which looked...great!
Then we had a little 3 day cruise around the various islands. Now the problem with cruises is, like a box of chocolates, that you never know what kind of people you’re going to get. This boat was very pleasant, expensive and for the more well-to-do. So what kind of passengers do you think we’d get? I’m timing you? Did someone shout out Commies? No. We got middle aged English people who were consistently the dullest human beings I have ever had the misfortune to encounter. Seriously, I think I had more in common with Alison’s left slipper. At least you can call it names and it won’t retort with anecdotes about sailing around Greek Islands. Man these guys were boring. One kept talking about all the cruises he’d been on, another was talking about...well I’m not really sure because he was French. Frankly I couldn’t wait to get in the water, not just to see all the pretty fishes, mainly so I could have 5 minutes of listening to nothing but the screams of my co-passengers as they were repeatedly stung by the resident Box Jellyfish.
Went to Melbourne for a few days which was nice but frankly I can’t see what all the fuss is about. It’s a nice city and has a lot going for it but as far as I’m concerned - no beaches, no fun. Yes okay, it’s got trams and museums and a bit more culture but that’s no good when it’s thirty three in the shade, is it?
Also tried our hand at a bit of whale watching. Four hours of sitting on a boat watching waves the size of small buildings and Alison running to the bathroom every five minutes being violently sick. My mum and her friend who accompanied us on that journey to Hades and back haven’t quite forgiven me. I think the theory was better than the reality on that one. How many whales do you think we saw? I’ll give you a clue, it’s between 0 and 0.
Told the BBC we’re coming back which, no doubt, they were euphoric about. We fly in to London on the 7th Jan and will be back in work sometime after the 16th Jan. There’s a date for your diaries, I’m expecting tickertape and pineapple on sticks.
Can’t believe it’s October already, seriously where did this year go? Anyway, I’m running out of things to say and you’re running out of will to live. We’re heading off to New Zealand for a few days next week so I’m sure you’ll all be tuning in to hear how I got munched by malevolent dolphins or carjacked by a bunch of unruly caravaners. I’m getting in to my writing now; see all the new words I’m using.
Till next time, take care of yourselves...and each other.
Showing posts with label manly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label manly. Show all posts
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
RAIN, MANLY APARTMENTS AND LEADING MEN
Okay, I know I said I probably wouldn't write unless there was something to tell. Luckily, since we've arrived there have been a couple of not insignificant incidents which I thought I'd share with you. I know what you're thinking, 'No, Dan I've got myself another blogger now. You can't just drop me whenever you feel like it and expect me just to carry on where we left off, it doesn't work that way.' All I can say is...I know who you really love, it's pointless to pretend, don't fight it.
The most important and immediately pressing thing is the fact we don't have sixth months free accommodation, as I previously thought. Of course, it's totally my fault, should have really broached the subject with the guys that -
a) own the house we were staying in and
b) the people who are actually paying rent and living here.
Doh! So we discovered this minor detail about two weeks ago and I swear it felt like our trip was over. See, the thing is, we had budgeted our year away banking on the fact that we would have accommodation when we got to Sydney. So this turn up for the books put a lion amongst the pigeons. We also thought the house would be empty. When we arrived we were surprised to find there were tenants. When we revealed to them how long we were planning to stay, so were they. The people that own the house are old friends of my dad and that puts him and them in a bit of a crap situation. Alison's parents have been ridiculously kind and lent us some money so we can stay and find somewhere to live. In short, it was a bit of a mess and all pretty much my fault so I felt like poo. Alison also felt rubbish as everything we were expecting in Sydney has turned out to be something quite different, but hey, that's life. At least there's good weather here right? Well... no.
The weather has been rubbish as well. It all started nicely, I went for sunny walks along the beautifulcoastline. Life was good. Then this all happens, the weather turns crappy and it literally hasn't stopped raining since.
(As an aside, it's dinner time and my ears have picked up the TV. There's a commercial saying '...the symptoms are not always easy to identify, and what you could have is genital herpes. For more information...' I swear I nearly spat out my orange juice. I mean Jesus, I know they're trying to improve public awareness but I don't particularly want to see that stuff at this time of the day. I'm trying to eat guys...come on. Anyway...)
We meet up with my one friend who lives in Sydney, Andre. I have known this guy forever. His wife, Mel, is expecting their second kid in July. It's really nice to see them again. Not just because I haven't seen them for two years but also it's just good to see familiar faces after travelling for so long. We both loved seeing Jayden, their little boy and Bella, the dog. I'm trying to persuade Alison to get a labrador and I think all this dog mingling is working, she seems to be coming around to the idea.
Alison signed up with an extras agency because she's always wanted to be an extra on film sets (and she's sad). Her first day was working on some dodgy Ozzy film called False Witness. They were filming at the Olympic Stadium and she got to dress up as a secret agent. The best story she told me, apart from this Brazlian trying to get in her pants all day (what do you expect, he's Brazilian), was when she sat down next to a guy and said 'Hi, are you an extra as well?' To which he gave her a shocked look and, trying desperately to contain the rage welling up inside him he muttered 'No, I'm the lead.' before stomping off to his trailer. Apparently he's quite well known here but she had no idea who he was. His reaction was classic though.
So we have to find a place and quickly. We decide we want to stay in Manly. (which some of you have pointed out as perfect for someone like me). Manly is 30 minutes ferry ride from the centre of Sydney and is in my opinion, the worlds best commute. However, house prices there are ridiculously high, so that's out the window. We try looking along some of the other Northern Beaches, Curl Curl, Freshwater or Dee Why. Problem is hardly any of these places come furnished and we have, well not a lot of stuff. I do have a souvenir Mate cup and decorative wine casket but somehow I'm entirely convinced those will make the place 'feel like home.'
We visit a few estate agents, most of whom look at us like they just scraped us off their shoe. Here's a sample conversation:
Me: Hi there, we'd like to rent an apartment in the area.
Dopey Blonde Receptionist: Okay.
Me: About **** a week.
Dopey Blonde Receptionist: Okay.Me: Do you have anything furnished?
Dopey Blonde Receptionist: No, sorry.
Me: Nothing? I know they're hard to come by...
Dopey Blonde Receptionist: Yeah, they are.
Me: Can I leave our details in case anything comes up?
Dopey Blonde Receptionist: No. We don't take people's details.
Me: Right.
It was kinda frustrating. Don't get me wrong, it may have been bad manors to interrupt her nail polishing session but I felt I had a legitimate claim to her time. So we try a few other esate agents, not much else around.
Eventually we walk back in to Manly again, about ready to offer ourselves up as quality shark food, when we pass an agent we had missed. In the window there was a sign saying 'Furnished Properties.' We wander in, see one we like and set up a viewing. It's in a place called Fairlight about 15 minutes walk from Manly...get in there!
We walk down the steep driveway and are greeted by Jackie, the English woman who owns the place. As we step inside, I'm confronted by the biggest plasma TV I've ever seen. The apartment is small but god it's nice. It's officially classed as a studio but it's really big and everything is new. New fridge, new kitchen, new bed, new sugar bowl. We love it immediately and hit it off with Jackie. She's going to leave us all her kitchenware and even offers to transfer the broadband to us if we want 'it's got unlimited downloads.' Man, this just gets better and better. There is a car parking space (our friends have very kindly let us have their car until they come back from London) and there's even a new mountain bike sitting in the garage just begging to be used. Outside, we're right next to a harbour and a very agreeable coastal path. You can hear the sea lapping at the rocks from our patio. Sea air permeates everywhere and the smell is amazing. We're exactly where we want to be. Fab!
So I guess things work out for the best in the end. It was pretty hairy for a while there and we actually seriously considered coming home. We even looked up the price of the flights but then realised we couldn't afford that either. But sometimes life just pulls together and things slot in to place. I'm sure next time I write there will have been some other crisis like I decide I want a sex change operation but can't front up the deposit or something. This was definitely one of the biggest we've had since leaving and I think we came out, almost untarnished. For those of you shouting at the screen sayinng 'What about Alison's hair?' I'm happy to report she went to a Toni and Guy here and the 'guy' has repaired the damage and you wouldn't know anything bad had happened. 'There is a God!' I hear you all cry. And believe me I'm with you on that. So all in all things are looking peachy again. I seem to have trouble pooing but apart from that...
The most important and immediately pressing thing is the fact we don't have sixth months free accommodation, as I previously thought. Of course, it's totally my fault, should have really broached the subject with the guys that -
a) own the house we were staying in and
b) the people who are actually paying rent and living here.
Doh! So we discovered this minor detail about two weeks ago and I swear it felt like our trip was over. See, the thing is, we had budgeted our year away banking on the fact that we would have accommodation when we got to Sydney. So this turn up for the books put a lion amongst the pigeons. We also thought the house would be empty. When we arrived we were surprised to find there were tenants. When we revealed to them how long we were planning to stay, so were they. The people that own the house are old friends of my dad and that puts him and them in a bit of a crap situation. Alison's parents have been ridiculously kind and lent us some money so we can stay and find somewhere to live. In short, it was a bit of a mess and all pretty much my fault so I felt like poo. Alison also felt rubbish as everything we were expecting in Sydney has turned out to be something quite different, but hey, that's life. At least there's good weather here right? Well... no.
The weather has been rubbish as well. It all started nicely, I went for sunny walks along the beautifulcoastline. Life was good. Then this all happens, the weather turns crappy and it literally hasn't stopped raining since.
(As an aside, it's dinner time and my ears have picked up the TV. There's a commercial saying '...the symptoms are not always easy to identify, and what you could have is genital herpes. For more information...' I swear I nearly spat out my orange juice. I mean Jesus, I know they're trying to improve public awareness but I don't particularly want to see that stuff at this time of the day. I'm trying to eat guys...come on. Anyway...)
We meet up with my one friend who lives in Sydney, Andre. I have known this guy forever. His wife, Mel, is expecting their second kid in July. It's really nice to see them again. Not just because I haven't seen them for two years but also it's just good to see familiar faces after travelling for so long. We both loved seeing Jayden, their little boy and Bella, the dog. I'm trying to persuade Alison to get a labrador and I think all this dog mingling is working, she seems to be coming around to the idea.
Alison signed up with an extras agency because she's always wanted to be an extra on film sets (and she's sad). Her first day was working on some dodgy Ozzy film called False Witness. They were filming at the Olympic Stadium and she got to dress up as a secret agent. The best story she told me, apart from this Brazlian trying to get in her pants all day (what do you expect, he's Brazilian), was when she sat down next to a guy and said 'Hi, are you an extra as well?' To which he gave her a shocked look and, trying desperately to contain the rage welling up inside him he muttered 'No, I'm the lead.' before stomping off to his trailer. Apparently he's quite well known here but she had no idea who he was. His reaction was classic though.
So we have to find a place and quickly. We decide we want to stay in Manly. (which some of you have pointed out as perfect for someone like me). Manly is 30 minutes ferry ride from the centre of Sydney and is in my opinion, the worlds best commute. However, house prices there are ridiculously high, so that's out the window. We try looking along some of the other Northern Beaches, Curl Curl, Freshwater or Dee Why. Problem is hardly any of these places come furnished and we have, well not a lot of stuff. I do have a souvenir Mate cup and decorative wine casket but somehow I'm entirely convinced those will make the place 'feel like home.'
We visit a few estate agents, most of whom look at us like they just scraped us off their shoe. Here's a sample conversation:
Me: Hi there, we'd like to rent an apartment in the area.
Dopey Blonde Receptionist: Okay.
Me: About **** a week.
Dopey Blonde Receptionist: Okay.Me: Do you have anything furnished?
Dopey Blonde Receptionist: No, sorry.
Me: Nothing? I know they're hard to come by...
Dopey Blonde Receptionist: Yeah, they are.
Me: Can I leave our details in case anything comes up?
Dopey Blonde Receptionist: No. We don't take people's details.
Me: Right.
It was kinda frustrating. Don't get me wrong, it may have been bad manors to interrupt her nail polishing session but I felt I had a legitimate claim to her time. So we try a few other esate agents, not much else around.
Eventually we walk back in to Manly again, about ready to offer ourselves up as quality shark food, when we pass an agent we had missed. In the window there was a sign saying 'Furnished Properties.' We wander in, see one we like and set up a viewing. It's in a place called Fairlight about 15 minutes walk from Manly...get in there!
We walk down the steep driveway and are greeted by Jackie, the English woman who owns the place. As we step inside, I'm confronted by the biggest plasma TV I've ever seen. The apartment is small but god it's nice. It's officially classed as a studio but it's really big and everything is new. New fridge, new kitchen, new bed, new sugar bowl. We love it immediately and hit it off with Jackie. She's going to leave us all her kitchenware and even offers to transfer the broadband to us if we want 'it's got unlimited downloads.' Man, this just gets better and better. There is a car parking space (our friends have very kindly let us have their car until they come back from London) and there's even a new mountain bike sitting in the garage just begging to be used. Outside, we're right next to a harbour and a very agreeable coastal path. You can hear the sea lapping at the rocks from our patio. Sea air permeates everywhere and the smell is amazing. We're exactly where we want to be. Fab!
So I guess things work out for the best in the end. It was pretty hairy for a while there and we actually seriously considered coming home. We even looked up the price of the flights but then realised we couldn't afford that either. But sometimes life just pulls together and things slot in to place. I'm sure next time I write there will have been some other crisis like I decide I want a sex change operation but can't front up the deposit or something. This was definitely one of the biggest we've had since leaving and I think we came out, almost untarnished. For those of you shouting at the screen sayinng 'What about Alison's hair?' I'm happy to report she went to a Toni and Guy here and the 'guy' has repaired the damage and you wouldn't know anything bad had happened. 'There is a God!' I hear you all cry. And believe me I'm with you on that. So all in all things are looking peachy again. I seem to have trouble pooing but apart from that...
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