Booze, beaches and barracking
Trip Start
Nov 15, 2006
1
51
60
Trip End
Aug 04, 2007
Manly,
Australia
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Thursday 5 April: Christchurch to Perth to Sydney.
Combined time of almost 9 hours flying only enlivened by screaming kids on both flights (they actually do kick the back of chairs), mid-flight panic caused by rumours of thunder storms in Perth - and related 4-hour diversion - caused Captain to walk among passengers reassuring them (that's very nice, but we'd prefer it if you flew the plane), and general passenger costernation about UK-style tightened airport security (though Americans still allowed in). Midnight arrival to deserted hostel (next to Minger St) in Northbridge and, eventually, let in dark and dingy room. Delighted to be in Australia again (Charlie for second time, me for the third).
Good Friday 6 April: Perth.
We can confirm that Perth rigorously adheres to the 'no trading on bank holidays'. Nothing open, and only movement sited all morning was: usual homeless disenfranchised/excommunicated Aborgines (climate makes homelessness "attractive" apparently), swinging 'closed' sign on our car rental shop (that was meant to be open), and full-scale brawl outside tourist information (the dangers of finishing your night out in daylight). Day is saved, however, by a stroll around the lovely Kings Park (including the best cityscape viewing spot I have ever seen), and most perfect lunch place in Subiaco (Market); every variety of food available (even some non-organic, un-prententious stuff) around lovely shaded outdoor area. How Covent Garden, Spitalfields etc should be. The afternoon was then spent on Cottesloe beach, followed by sun-downers outside one of its restaurants. Conviently, we got the weekly (biblical scale) row out-of-the-way before tomorrow's wedding - Charlie rightly taking umbrage to me wearing sunglasses in the restaurant. After dark.
One lunch conversation was what we could do around Perth (wave rock, Monkey Mia, Pinnacles etc), during which Charlie expressed surprise about just how little me, my best man (and Jim and Jeeve) had done in our month here in '93. I'm not sure what she expected from a nightclub tour-of-the-world, and was glad she didn't ask about what we did in our month in Cairns by the Barrier Reef. (Anyway, its easy to criticise, we left Perth 6 days later with none of the major sights ticked off.)
Sat 7 April: Perth to Dunsborough, Margaret River (the wedding venue)
We collected rental car and then had 9.00-10.30am to garnish our wedding outfits with accessories. Charlie had to get some shoes (she found them in 20 mins): I needed a haircut, and had to get trousers......and a shirt.....and some shoes (I had already had socks and pants). Charlie then took great delight in seeing me paralysed by the time-pressure as the shops opened at 9am, then spend the first 20 mins lost in a department store. She took pity on me at 10, frogmarched me to a department store - we left at 10.29 everything bought. For first time in holiday we tried to place a budgeting strait-jacket on Charlie (and also me), but it is blown 36 hours in by my wedding-clothing expenditure (I was left with 13 dollars for the remaining 6 days). By bittersweet irony, Charlie actually came in under budget for the 6 days, it certainly is a topsy-turvy world down there. Charlie's hungover state meant I drove us the 4 hours to Margaret River. She is comfortable with me driving in light-motorway traffic given it does not call upon the two areas of my driving that she is uncomfortable with - my steering and braking. We get to our accomodation to find that the groom, Stu (Charlie's Uni friend who introduced us at Chester Races (thanks Stu)), has secured us an amazing Aussie sports star's mansion/Big Brother style house for us and the other three couples that have flown from overseas (couples from Wellington, Virginia and the Wirral). Stu's last night of freedom involves plenty of booze, but a sensible midnight finish (for him). The drinking is occasionally interrupted by talking, but more regularly by Kangaroo sightings/noises from the garden which is full of them apparently.
Sun 7 April: Stu and Suzie's wedding day
The tension/busyness was noticeably cranked up as everyone prepared themselves for the 4pm kick-off, other than for me - a miscounting (twice) of the number of namecards led to the chief bridesmaid (wisely, but coldly) removing me from any job or position of responsibilty. Charlie is asked 3 hours before the ceremony to do a seating plan for the wall. We find a pen, card and some tissue paper, and she works wonders in true British Blue Peter tradition. Come the ceremony, Stu spends the last 15 minutes of single life alone at the altar waiting for the blushing bride, and develops a strange Rain Man-like rubbing of the hands. At the same time, most of the women are contending with skirt-lifting strong winds; Charlotte ends up tying her amazing dress down with her shawl!. But salvatiion for all is at hand, as the bride, Suzie, arrives - looking fantastic - the winds die down and before long the happy couple taking the appalause from the crowd as Mr and Mrs Goodreid. The remainder of the day runs to form, with well recieved speeches, great food/wine ("Would sir and madam like another drink?", "Oh Sir and madam most certainly would"), and a variety of dancing styles. The first time in 5 years we have no wedding invites outstanding, but we've not checked emails. The vacuum lasted a full 2 weeks.
Mon 8 April: The day after
Charlie not speaking to me, "I told you to stop drinking wine", and everyone ever-so slightly offhandish of me in our house. The latter is only expanded by someone referring to me (during post-wedding drinks at the house) as being "quite agressive when you want to choose the music on the ipod, strange, when you can't subsquenlty use it." A pennyup game was chosen to select battle of the DJs, until I fell asleep mid-round on a stool (in a literal nod to Tony Bryant-Fenn). Apparently The Monday is a case of 'after the lord mayor's show', with no-one in any state to do anything but everyone feeling obliged (given they are in Australia) to do something outdoors. One-by-one each couple leaves for the beach via the town and then returns within an hour to collapse on the couch for the remainder of the day, enjoy the open fire and watch crap movies. By the evening everyone is still dying to see a kangaroo, so me and Stu decide to oblige. He hides in the garden, I then lead everyone out on a false claims of having heard one, and lead them towards him (in the pitch dark). His roo noises are that convincing that Sian (directed from her husband from 20 meters behind) declares "its very close, and it doesn't sound too happy" at which Charlie bolts back to the house. Just as the tension reaches a crescendo, Stu's (now) wife comes out and asks if anyone has seen him. For a split-second everyone thinks the roos have taken him, before the penny drops and he comes tearing out of the bushes. A quiet evening ends early for all, althought I have to wait until everyone is in bed, so that I could have my second steak of the night (the covert operation was necessary given everyone had been appalled at the size of my lasagane and steak dinner. And it was not clear that the steaks were intended for lunch the next day.)
Tues 9 April: Margaret River to Cottesloe beach, Perth.
After a goodbye breakfast with the happy couple we head back to Perth and Stu and Suzie's lovely beachside flat that they kindly leant us the keys for. Our only diversion on the way back is down memory lane to the fruit-picking town of Donnybrook which I had worked in 15 years earlier (and met Jim and Jeeve, compadres to this day). Any changes? Well, everything was exactly the same, just a bit darker and more gloomier, including the pub we frequented (immune to the gastropub winds) and the pool table on which Steve had lost to the drunkiest man ever seen (he - the drunk man - did the splits, and then collapsed on cueing up for his first shot). We spent the afternoon on Cottesloe beach on great-white watch (someone had been eaten there last year), while I read Jaws (for the fourth time), with Stu's entertaining friends Laurence and Sian (they took great amusement at my suggestion of cooking steaks in the oven, and the shape of my head).
Wed 8 April: Cottesloe beach, Perth.
Due to the lack of any proper locks on Stu's doors (very little crime in Australia, by delicious irony), Charlie wakes up to beer bottles placed against each door in the house due to my improvised alarm system - with hindsight I should have "switched' the system on after she had been to the bathroom. Another great morning on the lovely beach, my favourite in Oz (other than Pru's Manly beaches of course), followed by a visit to young and happening Fremantle. We shopped (Charlie bought a cool Byrds t-shirt ("Eric clapton's first band, Ben" (!)) and I had a hair-cut after Charlie noted I might take off given the length of my sideburns. The barbers was Australia's (and perhaps the worlds') oldest continous barbers shop, at 108 years; the style of my haircut mirrored the date of the establishment.
Thursday 9 April: Perth to Sydney.
With heavy hearts we leave Perth and fly to Sydney (combined stowed baggage of 43kgs depsite having sent 6 parcels home and wearing three layers) given we loved the relaxed feel of Western Australia, which is harder to find on the east coast and, certainly, in the UK. The weather which consists of rain only at night, and a breeze only in the summer added to the utopian feel. Our post-Perth blues are blown away by Pru meeting us at Sydney airport, which prompts floods of tears (even me and Pru have a lump in our throats), and whisking us off to drinks, canapés and pizza with Ross. (Ross promises to get me a 'turn down those f***ing collars' t-shirt (available in Oz) for me to wear in clapham.)
Friday 10 April: Manly.
Last night's red wine slows us but Pru gets us to Sydney via the jet cat, which is probably the best commute in the world (just above New York and Hong Kong water rides) at least until Kew gets a jet cat going to the City. She then helps us swiftly tick off all the jobs we have outstanding. We all feel relaxed by the end of the day, particularly as the girls have had a massage, and I've got my hands on the $10k needed for our 3 months in Africa. We finish off the day with sundowners in the Wharf Bar in Manly with Ross and Pru (combined they have been retitled Roo), their friends, and Nick (from ex-Aukett like Charlie, and who went skiing in Chamonix) and his girlfriend, Kerrin. The evening is finished off with me and Charlie, and Nick and Kerrin (average height of 6 foot 1 between us) in bar listening to live music, cricket on a big screen and a DJ all competing for our attention, while we indulge in the only sport us Brits/Kiwis are good at - Aussie baiting.
Sat 11 April: Manly.
My morning involves 6 back-to-back Simpsons, shared with 10-year old son of hostel owner (a real meeting of the minds), Charlie doing chores, before Pru and Ross generously took us to lunch at a fantastic restaurant, White Water (a home-from-home for all the Bryant-Fenns). Roo, on paying the bill, note "You can do the same for us when we have no income," I am (quietly) confident in their ability to hold down jobs continously. When ordering in the restaurant we get treated to an hour-long performance of the Bryant-Fenn girls forensically inspecting and discussing the menu. They then select the first thing they mentioned. More drinks follow in a succesion of really nice bars, Manly seemingly being a brutish-Aussie-male and chav-free zone (a few Brits aside). When conversation runs dry, Ross iniates a Q&A session which results in him being labelled as 'pathologically lazy', pru as 'likeable' (!!!?), Charlie as 'emotional', and me as 'underrated. The rules of the game means that the desciptions have to be understated. The night is ended just after midnight on account of me spilling drinks, Ross being his usual over-affectionate self (to me), and the girls losing the power of speech and, more importantly, tolerance of their other halves. Best put down of the day from Pru to Ross: "you silly little man."
Sun 12 April: Manly
Our last day is spent (gently) on various beaches (Palm Beach a.k.a. Summer Bay from Home and Away, Whale Beach etc) followed by a spectacular evening-long thunder storm. All-in-all it adds to the feelling that Manly (after London) must rank as one of the best places to work in the world (while young); "where did it all go wrong Pru and Ross." Charlie then cooks a thank-you meal for the two of them and we have the Pinot Noir we've brought from New Zealand. We get our last Aussie cultural dose by watching a (hidoeous according to Charlie) documentary Bum-fights before a short goodbye (Ross in a strait jacket to avoid tongues), as will see them in a few months, ahead of the flight tomorrow to Johannesburg.
