Tales from abroad

I seem to struggle to find the time to keep this blog updated, but will try to revisit it every now and then. The problem is once it gets a little out of date it becomes harder to get back into it, resulting in a snowball affect as it gets more and more out of date.

At the end of August there was the Summer Bank Holiday weekend, which is also the last long weekend until Christmas, so it comes with mixed emotions. Last year I used this time of the year to go to Turkey so was keen to do something again this year. Fortunately I had some willing accomplices, and we decided to go to Morocco, or more specifically Marrakech for a few days. Marrakech is one of those places that seems to be benefiting (or suffering, depending on your view) from the budget airlines flying there from all major European cities.

We flew Royal Maroc Air, the national airline of Morocco. It was an interest flight, and quite possibly the oldest plane I have flown on (China Eastern Airlines would be a close competitor). Upon landing the most immediate sensation was just how hot it was there. Since the airport involves stepping straight out onto the tarmac to get a bus to the terminal, you really feel the heat. I’d looked up the weather conditions before leaving London and we were in store for 43 degree days. Quite a step up from the low-mid 20s of London.

Our accommodation was a Riad in central Marrakech, we had a short walk around that evening seeing the main mosque, the square and the sooks with all their markets. That evening we also happened to find a tour office near our hotel so booked a trip for the following day out to Ouarzazate, passing through the Atlas Mountains on the way. We were in our own 4WD and apart from the 4 of us we only had 1 other person on our tour, a Spanish guy David who came in handy for taking photos for us. We made a few stops along to way to take some photos, do some shopping for souvenirs, but most importantly to buy some drinks to keep hydrated. One thing I noticed was that if a bottle of Coke was labelled as costing 3 Dirhams, we were being charged anything up to 10 Dirhams. I wondered why, was it just rural prices? I asked our driver why our prices don’t match the price printed on the Coke labels, he smirked a bit, said they are that price. Then I asked “Are we paying tourist price?” and he said “Yes. Tourist price”. Settled then! I wasn’t too bothered as things like bottles of Coke still worked out to be half the price as in London.

One of the highlights of that day trip was seeing a Kasbah along the way. It looked like it was built out of mud, and apart from it’s surround visit was in the middle of a barren landscape. After the Kasbah stop we reached our destination of Ouarzazate. The problem was that getting there was such a long journey we only had about 1.5 hours before the return journey. We had a feed in a nearby restaurant, which left the countdown at 45 minutes. Luckily there is really only two things to see in Ouarzazate - a Cinema museum and a big Kasbah. The Cinema Museum exists because Ouarzazate is like the Hollywood of Africa. Plenty of films have been shot in and around the city. Some films shot there incluce Lawrence Of Arabia, Star Wars, The Mummy and Gladiator. Because of this we all opted to use our remaining time in the Cinema Museum. In hindsight this was a waste. I think I would rate this particular museum as one of the least impressive I have ever visited. It was actually entertainingly bad. You would think with all those big name films it would have been very impressive. Unfortunately none of those films were represented in the museum. Instead it contained props from about 5 or 6 films I had never heard of!

The following day we went on another day trip, this time by coach out to the seaside city of Essaouira, a surprisingly windy city. It was a strange place, reminding in some ways of European seaside cities, but then in other parts being so typically Moroccan. I guess being a trading port ensured this. Again it was a very hot day with uninterrupted sunshine all day long. We walked through the city, checking out the street markets. One thing that disturbed me was the flies perching themselves on the market food and the stall owners not even bothering to get them to move on. Some places even stored their delicacies in glass fronted cabinets, the problem being that flies had infiltrated this and couldn’t escape, giving them no option than to crawl all over the enclosed food. Not good sight for tempting you to make a purchase.

The following day we spent in Marrakech itself, and I think Marrakech saved it’s hottest day of the trip for us. It was very hot. We walked up to the new city, which has a big French influence. From there we went to Jardin Majorelle, a small garden oasis in an other harsh environment. It was a nice little escape from the hustle and bustle of Marrakech. The Garden was restored by Yves Saint Laurent, the cosmetics entrepeneur.

That evening we watched the sun set over the main square, Djeema El Fna. Sunset of course being a big deal, as we were there during Ramadan, the holy month for the locals, meaning they fast during sunlight hours. Once the sunsets the place comes alive and the whole city comes out to eat and celebrate.

The next day we did yet another day trip. This time we went out to Cascades d’Ouzoud, some waterfalls which are in fact the second highest waterfalls in Africa (behind Victoria Falls). The falls in Berber territory, a group of people living in the Atlas Mountains. Our tour guide was Berber (they are the only ones allowed to give tours there) and he spoke Berber, French, Arabic, English, and Spanish at a minimum (he possibly spoke even more!). The falls were impressive. This was also our only chance of the whole trip to have a refreshing swim, so I jumped at the chance and splashed around in one of the pools of water at the foot of the falls.

The next day we had an early flight back to London. I enjoyed Marrakech, but didn’t love it. I don’t think I would go back, it certainly felt like one of those places I would go to once, tick off the list and not really consider a return visit.

I went on a road trip through Norfolk (For those not familiar with British geography, Norfolk is the bulgy bit to the North East of London) for the second long weekend of May. I love May, two long weekends bookend the month and the weather is really starting to smarten itself up. Unfortunately we didn’t have the greatest weather for the weekend, it was overcast mainly and one morning was particularly blustery. That didn’t inhibit our sense of adventure though so we set off on a Norfolk loop, taking in Southwold, Lowestoft, Great Yarmouth, Cromer, Wells-Next-The-Sea (yes, the name seems to missing a word), Hunstanton, King’s Lynn and Ely. Only when I list them do I realise we packed in quite a number of stops for 3 days! That even included me struggling on the last day with a very sore eye which I think was a reaction to my contact lenses. Some eye drops eventually sorted them out by later the next week at work.

Southwold was nice, although we didn’t really see too much of the town. We had a look at the pier but it was much too cold out there. We did think the town itself looked nice from the pier but that might have just been us looking wistfully back at a warmer part of the coastline.At Lowestoft we again wandered around the touristy seaside section, having a coffee in one of the local pubs. Near the pub we were asked for some money from a beggar. He was quite specific about how much he wanted - a couple of quid. I said “sorry don’t have it on me”, at which point most beggars move on - no point wasting time on someone unwilling to invest in your plight - this one however hung around a little longer and persisted that little longer. He even asked again if I was sure I didn’t have the money. This didn’t help his cause and the answer was still no.

We set our sights on Great Yarmouth then which would be our first nights stop. Being just slightly out of peak time helped, but we still tried a couple of accommodation options first before finding a place with a vacancy. The accommodation was fine, if a little cramped. There was basically enough room for a bed, a tiny sink, and a bathroom the size of a wardrobe. That evening we walked along the seaside looking for a place to eat. The options were very limited. Uninspiring cafes, overpriced pizza restaurants, the odd fish and chip place. We turned around and headed back a few streets in, one we assumed was probably one of the main retail streets. There we reached a point where there was a nice looking Indian restaurant on one side of the road and on the other was a Thai. We went for the Indian, as Claire and I have a history of Indians (we someone got in the habit of going for Valentine Currys over the past few years). Turned out it was a bit of a masterstroke and had a great meal.

The following morning we set off further around the Norfolk coast. We reached a nice little town called Cromer. It is perched up against the sea, in some parts on cliffs, in other parts by the waters edge. It seemed quite pleasant. Unfortunately it was the moment of the whole weekend where we had our wildest weather. There were some sunny spells while we wandered around (we even took the opportunity to eat some ice cream), but then we timed our departure extremely well as the strong wind and big rain drops struck just as we got back in the car.

We bid Cromer farewell and set off once more, aiming for Wells-Next-The-Sea. We didn’t plan on there being so many tourists there once we reached it! We tried to get a parking spot but there were simply none available. They were having people park down small road off in the distance. Wells-Next-The-Sea was dropped from the list of destinations. Anyway, I think it’s name is missing a “To” in it, it’s not “next the sea” it is “next TO the sea”.

On we went. Holkham beach was next, we were going to get lunch there and look at the beach which Claire had been to when younger. Problem was Holkham only had 1 pub and it was packed. We also had some of the bad weather rolling back in (detecting a theme here yet?). So instead we figured we would drive on to the next pub we found for lunch and if the weather improved we would come back to Holkham Beach. This brought us to a small town called Burnham Overy and little pub called The Hero. We managed to get a table immediately, even though they also were busy, and ended up having a nice fish and chips here. Holkham Beach lost it’s appeal so after lunch it was onwards around the coast. This time aiming for Hunstanton for the night.

We had no accommodation booked for Hunstanton, since we had little trouble finding a B&B in Great Yarmouth the night before. Well, it turned out to be a minor hassle. Each B&B we found had “No Vacancies” signs up. Fear not though, the Tourist Info offices are happy to help book accommodation for no fee. Well no fee as far as the tourist is concerned. They take 10% of the booking cost, but then you get this 10% off your booking at the B&B. On the way to the Tourist Info though we remembered that it was Sunday. Sunday of a Bank Holiday weekend, and about 4:30pm. We feared the worst but were ultimately relieved to find it open. The lady there called a couple of places which were full, but then asked if we wanted her to try a place that was relatively new listing with them. So new there was no photos of it available. She assured us it was nice though. We agreed, and she called up and managed to book us a room.

It was around this time one of my eyes was reacting quite suddenly and was becoming rather irritated. Claire noticed it was starting to look red. I soldiered on though and we went and checked in to the B&B. Once settled it was time for dinner. We found another pub and ordered some food. By this stage the eye was really starting to bother me and I struggled to stay focused on the job at hand - eating dinner! Poor Claire, I can’t have been much fun or great conversation that evening.

In the morning things hadn’t really improved. Driving was ok with sunglasses on so again I battled the odds and got the job done! Since I was not the best though we kind of rushed through the final day. We had stops at Kings Lynn and Ely. At Kings Lynn I bought some much needed eye drops. At Ely we just had a short walk around. Both looked like quite pleasant little medieval market towns.

It was a nice weekend and quite a decent loop around England’s fifth largest County.

In early May I went to the Fat Duck restaurant out in Bray (outside London) with Claire and her parents. The Fat Duck had been something I had hoped to visit ever since hearing about it, but didn’t think I would get the chance. Booking in for it needs to be done months in advance. The Fat Duck is run by Heston Blumenthal, who is becoming somewhat of a celebrity in these parts. He has an ever increasing presence on British TV, with his shows running off a similar principle to his restaurant, which is to approach food in a scientific way. Prior to going I had heard about two of dishes that are both intriguing and disconcerting. “Snail Porridge” and “Bacon Ice Cream”.

I was a little bit nervous before going, not knowing what to expect, and I don’t have the greatest tolerance for fancy foods at the best of times. Seafood is generally out (apart from prawns or beer battered fish from the ‘chippy’) and some of the vegetables I’ve encountered in my time are horrendous little things. When we got there we were shown to our table. First thing noticeable was the sheer number of staff running around the place. The other was that the bookings are done in a staggered manner. We were one of the first in, every 30 minutes more people turned up and took their tables. This works well for the Fat Duck as they can get the food out without being swamped all at one time. Also there is no A la carte menu, it is a set tasting menu which I think numbered about 13 courses. This also works in the Fat Ducks favour. Every seat in the restaurant is used by 1 person only for the entire night and everyone eats the same courses. Makes predicting what to stock and what to have ready very straight forward.

Our courses included, and I might miss some, Red Cabbage Gazpacho with Pommery Grain Mustard Ice Cream, Jelly of Quail Crayfish cream with Chicken Liver parfait and Oak Moss and truffle toast, Snail Porridge with Jabugo ham and shaved fennel, Roast Foie Gras with Rhubard Braised Konbu and Crab Biscuit, Mock Turtle Soup (inspired by Alice in Wonderland), Sound of the sea (which had some raw fish selections), Salmon poached in liquorice, Powdered Anjou Pigeon with Blood pudding and confit of umbles (if you don’t know you are better off not asking!), the BFG (an amazing Black Forest Gateau), Whisky Wine Gums, and a bag of sweets. Even if all the courses were not quite to my liking, the production value and the surprise factor all made it a very memorable night. The staff too were great, they work in the 3rd best restaurant in the world (was 2nd for the preceding 3 years), and yet they don’t show any contempt for any questions or queries you make. In fact it appears they quite enjoy explaining some of the items and were helpful throughout the evening.

The entertaining first course, with liquid nitrogen special effects!

Roast Foie Gras

Sound Of The Sea.

Salmon poached in liquorice.

Pigeon. No that isn’t chocolate sauce like I thought. It’s blood. And “Umbles” means various things like liver, heart and other offal. It’s no coincidence “Offal” sounds like “Awful”. Well, it wasn’t that bad, just the thought of it was. I actually tried everything on here. Even the tiniest bit of the blood. Hey - I’m no vampire!

The BFG. Yum.
Would I go again? Probably not. Would I recommend other people try it for themselves? Most definitely.

My stay in Australia did indeed end up being doubled from 2 to 4 weeks. I worked remotely for the extra time I was there, it was fortunate I was able to do so. I now refer to those two weeks as being the time the Sydney office for my company was open. I even changed my email signature to “CEO Sydney operations”. May as well get the ball rolling on that front. It was quite a successful little operation I had running too. I got on with all my co-workers, I got to work on time each morning, I was well fed. It was great!

Of an afternoon/evening I was back to my Uncle duties entertaining the kids with tales of my bravery/courage/talent/all-round-good-guy-ness. You know, typical Uncle behaviour. I really enjoyed the bonus stay in Australia. The only problem was going through the good byes for a second time. It’s hard enough doing it once!

On the way up to the airport on my real last day, we stopped by Grant and Tyneal’s new flat which they had just moved in to that day. I was quite impressed by the nice little place they have. It stirred the fire in my belly to get my own place once back in London. Something I’m still pondering.

The flight back was fine. Full, obviously, given the backlog of people they were trying to clear. My seat number was 38D - matching my bust! What a coincidence. Also a timely reminder to get back in to shape.

I was exhausted by the time I got home, but another piece of good fortune meant the weekend I arrived back in the UK for was a long weekend, giving me an extra day to attempt to get back in the right time zone, which certainly helped.

My holiday was starting to look much to short again, as it always seems to do on the 2 week trips. It only gives me 1 full weekend in the middle of the trip to catch up with people, and once that weekend is over it is not long until it’s time to fly back. So I was looking to make the most of my remaining days in Oz.

We went down to Gerroa on the south coast, a pleasant little coastal town with a Fishermans Club we like getting lunch from if eating out. It’s a nice drive down there too. We’re a good split when driving anywhere, boys in my car (Me, Dad and Blake), girls in the slow car (Mum, Carla and Chloe). Lunch was good, we didn’t win any meat trays in the raffle as usual. Afterwards it was a nice enough afternoon that we decided to head down to Gerroa beach which is at the northern end of Seven Mile Beach. As you can see the kids were pretty keen to get down there and splash around.

Uncle Paul made them stop and have a photo with him on the beach first before they could run off into the water. Not that they seemed too bothered, it meant they could play in the sand!

It’s scenes like this that make you miss living in Australia with the weather and beaches.

Then it looked like David Hasselhoff paid us a visit. He’s a bit smaller than I thought he would be!

He’s still showing good form when running through the surf though. Love your work Hoff!

The next day the weather was still looking pretty superb so myself and Carla decided we would take the kids down to Kiama. Usually we would just drive as it is a short trip, but the kids love their trains so we opted for catching the train down. I didn’t realise just how much they would enjoy catching a CityRail service. In fact, I didn’t think it was possible anyone could enjoy or even tolerate one of their services! Blake and Chloe were spellbound by watching the world whiz past the train window.

When we got to Kiama we took a walk down the main road (we don’t call them “the High Street” like the UK, but if we did then that’s what it would be). We bumped in to cousin Marie as we did, she was enjoying an alfresco lunch with a friend. We continued on to the ice cream shop. This is the point I got more excited than Blake and Chloe. Nothing like a nice big cold ice cream on a warm day. I texted Grant to ask his recommendation, he replied the “Death By Chocolate”. With a name like that how could I refuse. The kids went for the safer options of cones.

Chloe did her now infamous ice cream routine of smearing more around her face than she managed to eat. One day she’ll master the ice cream eating caper.

We had a kick around of Blakes football in the park across the road, and a play on the park swings and slides. To be precise, the two smallest ones did, I stood around supervising!

On the train back home Chloe showed us a glimpse of a possible future career

The next day we ventured up to Sydney to go to the Featherdale Animal Park. Carla had heard good things about it, and while I have been to the Nowra and Symbio parks (as had the kids), none of us had ever been to Featherdale before. So we went up there for the day. It was a nice little park in the western suburbs of Sydney. Much like the other two parks, but perhaps a little more crowded in and a bit closer to being a mini-zoo than the other two.

We got to feed some Wallabies and Kangaroos

Chloe got really excited by being so close to some cuddly Koalas

I took a photo of a big lizard and managed to squeeze a lovely looking family into the background of the shot

Then we found an old bit of equipment and who can resist such a photo opportunity. Certainly not us.

It was a good day out. A bit of a mission trying to get the kids out through as-ever-conveniently-placed-giftshop which was unavoidable on the way out. Carla managed to talk them down to more sensible little toys than any of their first choices. The things they ended up selecting were eggs that would hatch when placed in water for a day or two.

My last day in Oz was a Saturday but I wasn’t due to fly until 21:50, giving me a full day at home. In the morning I went to swimming lessons with the kids. No I didn’t take any lessons, I just watched quietly satisfied with my own swimming ability.

The problem was that in the few days leading up to it there had been a Volcano eruption in Iceland and the ash cloud had managed to cover most of Western Europe. This meant the closure of a lot of airspace. I still didn’t know if I was flying and the situation was continually being reassessed by the authorities. On the morning of my last day I checked the latest report and it said they were hopeful of reopening soon. This got reassessed a few times during the day with the same result. By the time I was packed and ready to go the situation hadn’t changed, but the next assessment was at 11pm, so about an hour after my take-off. Thinking things might clear up just in time for my plane to burst through the ash clouds, we headed up to the airport to check me in and send me on my way.

Only it didn’t quite work out like that. I queued up at the airport still assuming I would be flying that evening. I had earlier said my goodbyes to Mum and Chloe, having Dad, Carla and Blake at the airport with me. I was starting to feel sad and depressed about leaving. Watching Blake help me with my suitcase and listen to him say he would come too was not helping me overcome that feeling. Then I got to the front of the queue and was informed there were no flights for Europe. I was to go home and call a provided phone number in the morning. I was stunned for a moment. They had turned me away. Abu Dhabi airport was full of stranded passengers and the hotels were full. Better I stayed in Australia the lady told me. It felt really weird to be told this. I had hoped that maybe it would happen like so, but didn’t think it would. It was certainly a strange feeling carrying the suitcase back to the car to head home.

The next few days involved me calling Etihad to get updates, which they weren’t able to provide. Finally I was given a new flight date (assuming the volcano kept quiet) - May 1st. A full 2 weeks after my original departure date. Yes, doubling my initial 2 week holiday.

On the Monday we went up to the Easter Show which is held out in the Olympic Park area in west Sydney. It was glorious weather for it, which was particularly appreciated by myself. The kids seemed excited to be going, not sure if they completely understand what it was, but we made sure we kept reminding them they were going to the Easter Show. This was my chance to see what it was like for Mum and Dad when we were younger going up there. At one point I nearly lost Blake, he was dodging and weaving his way through a stream of people, so I was keeping a close eye on him, then I saw him veer right and had I not been watching I would have lost him. Although just a few moments later I could hear a panicked 4 year old voice say “Where is everyone?!”. He had a very relieved look on his face when I grabbed him on the shoulder. We saw the usual things - Showbag pavilion (not as big as I remember), the state fruit displays, the carnival rides. A first for me this year was the Pig racing. Which also included pig diving! We also hung around and watched the evenings entertainment which is something I had never done before. We were able to stay quite late because we were staying close by in a hotel and not having to make the long drive home. There were a team of stunt horse riders, then motorbikes, then cars and it was all finished off with Robosaurus. A big mechanical device that breathes fire and eats cars! Impressive. I think Blake liked Robosaurus, although he looked a little worried as it headed our way.

Blake and Chloe riding the train.

The racing (and diving!) pigs.

Chloe getting herself tangled in her seatbelt rope.

Blake, Carla and Chloe waiting for Robosaurus!

By staying up there over night we were able to go to the Olympic Aquatic centre the next day. Another first for me, having never been there before. It’s pretty impressive. There was the Olympic pool and then what would have been the warm down pools behind it. One has been converted into a kids friendly pool, completely with slides, water spouts and a big bucket that gradually fills until every 10 minutes or so, it reaches its peak capacity, a bell rings and then it tips its contents on to the expectant crowd of children below. Blake and Chloe had a great time there. There is a ring of fast flowing water (kind of like a mini rapids course), which I took them both around a few times. Then Chloe was showing me her ability to jump in to the water, at which point I would pick her up and place her back on the pool edge. We repeated this routine a few times, each time she resurfaced with a big smile. Once we were done Carla told me that her swimming instructors have been trying in vain to get her to jump in by herself and here I was getting her to do it without any effort! Needless to say I shrugged it off as me just being a good Uncle.

That evening I headed in to the city to the Lowenbrau bar in the Rocks area to catch up with a couple of old flat mates. Grant came too, and cousin Pamela even made a brief appearance also. She works in the city and lives nearby. Grant had an even more convenient reason for being able to make it - his office is across the road! It was a good night and great to catch up with my ex-flatmates whom I lived with until they left London in November last year.

Catching up with Maya and Warren.
Grant and I were planning to catch a 10pm south coast train. We realised as we were leaving the bar we were cutting it fine. As we boarded the metro train at Circular Quay I did the sums and figured we were not much chance of making our train. The problem with this was that the next train was a little over an hour later. We nervously watched the time as we passed each stop. As we approached Central station to change trains, Grant pointed out it was a change of a few platforms to get to our train. “Are we running?”. “You bet”. We had a minute by my time. Out we went, down the stairs, through the station, up the escalator, and there it was the train we needed. We had about 30 seconds to spare. As we got on we realised just how fortunate we were, as good a night as I had, I didn’t particularly want or need another hour out!

My flight over from London to Sydney was pretty good. I don’t know if it just gets easier the more times you do it, or if it was the different flight route. This is the first time I have had my stopover in the Middle East. Abu Dhabi was my stopover city as that is the hub for the airline I flew, Etihad. Mum and Dad flew them last year and said they were good, so I was happy to fly my 4th airline in 4 trips (Qantas for the one way ticket out, China Eastern in ‘08, BA in ‘09). The entertainment system worked flawlessly, which was great, but I limited myself to watching only 2 movies so I have something to watch on the way back. Didn’t want to use up all their entertainment with only half the return journey done!

Previously for me flying from the UK has meant the longer leg first (to Asia) then the shorter leg to end the trip. This way I had the shorter leg first, which I deliberately stayed awake throughout, then the 13 hour marathon to bring it home. Throughout the flight I was hoping this works out well for the return journey as I will be ending the trip with a (relatively) short flight.

Upon touchdown in Sydney I wasn’t as tired as I remember being on previous trips. Which was lucky as it was only morning and I had a whole day ahead of me. Mum and Dad were there to collect me, it was great to see them as it always is. We headed down south to home, the Illawarra. That afternoon we went to the circus which was set up not too far from home. Blake and Chloe, unsurprisingly, loved it. By the evening I was shattered (so much for not feeling tired) and called it a night about 8:30pm.

The next morning was Easter Sunday, so it was nice to be able to watch the kids go about finding their hidden chocolate treasures. They ended up with so much chocolate that they would end up eating it for days. It also meant the house was regularly cleaned to pick up the loose bits of chocolate that had missed their targets. The relatives came around for some Easter lunch and it was nice to see them all.

Grant was down the whole Easter long weekend too, so he was able to head down the beach at Shellharbour with us the next day. Here I showed off my hole digging abilities, while Uncle Grant concetrated on impressing with his sandcastles. Neither Blake nor Chloe were overly impressed with either of our efforts.

The following day I went with Mum, Carla and the kids in to Wollongong to go to the Botanical Gardens to feed the ducks. The only problem was that the ducks were already full, judging by the amount of bread they had left un-eaten floating around. I bet they wish it was school holidays every day. That evening I went up to Alex and Olivias flat for a feed and check their place out. I am happy to say I survived Alex’s cooking exploits.

We went ten pin bowling the next day. Ten pin bowling always seems like a good idea, but it doesn’t take long to realise the problem with it with young kids. They don’t yet fully appreciate the sportsman like approach of letting everyone have their go in turn. The youngsters want to bowl all the time and get a little unhappy when it is someone elses turn for a bowl. We played 2 games, which might also have been a bit much, but it was fun (maybe because I won).

The next day was one I was not looking forward to, because it contained nothing fun. It was a day of medical appointments. In previous trips I have had appointments here and there, for this trip we managed to get them all on the one day. So I went to the Doctors, Dentist, Optometrist and Skin Specialist (to see what damage the Aussie sun has done in my junior years). 4 appointments in one day. Glad to say it was a clean bill of health.

On Friday we went with the kids down to Killalea, the beach otherwise known as “The Farm” with a couple of their friends and their Dad. They had lots of fun running around digging holes, playing in the water. I was enjoying being able to stand around in shorts, t-shirt and soaking up the lovely sunshine. That night I was off to WIN Stadium to see the Dragons in action against the Broncos. It was a one sided affair with the Dragons putting the game beyond doubt pretty early. Good to get a win, not good for tense atmosphere. Also it’s hard being inspired in 15,000 crowds after seeing some of the football matches in England amongst 70 - 80,000 chanting fans. Being at the game was also a chance to catch up with a few of my friends from home.

I managed to catch up with a few more people the following evening by having dinner at a builders club in town. It was a good chance to hear what everyone has been up to and have a few good laughs.

Daylight saving began two days ago here and I don’t quite remember struggling with the one hour change like this before. The fact that I’ve just had a birthday and become a year older might have something to do with my tolerance to such things! Yesterday it actually felt like I was a little bit jet lagged thanks to the one hour change. The change meant I had to wake up an hour earlier than usual, but I guess my body hasn’t yet realised it needs to fall asleep an hour earlier also to make this a balanced transaction! By mid afternoon the yawns had well and truly commenced. The one upside to all this is that sunset has now jumped to 7:30pm and getting later each day. It won’t be long until I can soak up some rays for a couple of hours after work.

There are now only around 2 and a half days until I depart for my short trip back to Australia. It has kind of snuck up on me and I think tomorrow evening I had better get my case packed as I won’t get a chance on Wednesday (I’m going to a Champions League match that evening). Luckily since it is a trip home I don’t need to put too much thought in to what to pack as I have just as many clothes in Australia as I do here. One thing I am not looking forward to is the flight. This will be my third return trip now since setting off, and the thought of being in that plane seat for 20+ hours does not thrill me one bit. Luckily the idea of seeing family (particularly the nephew and niece) at the other end is more than enough motivation!

Well they keep on slipping by. That’s another year successfully negotiated. I’m getting good at this ageing caper. I haven’t actually had my birthday yet as it is only 11pm on March 10th here, but since I was born in Australia on Australian time, my age must surely be calculated using that as the starting point, in which case I had my birthday many hours ago. Age is a funny old beast. I still subscribe to notion as you being only as old as you feel. If you want to be young, then act young. Well that’s how I’m comforting myself anyway.

I don’t have any huge plans for my birthday. I’m having a birthday dinner with Claire and a few friends on Saturday night. It was originally planned to be in a restaurant in which you dine in the dark, but even with two weeks to book it, I was unable to get a table. So instead we are going to a restaurant I have only been to once before but came away very impressed. It’s the Larder in the Clerkenwell region of London. The one time previous that I went there I came away very impressed with the quality of the food AND the quantity of food. Usually I find places offer one or the other, rarely both.

I went out for dinner with some of the guys from work this evening. We ate at Lahore Kebab House in Whitechapel, which contrary to it’s name, is a restaurant rather than a dodgy kebab shop. And it thrives purely on reputation alone. I’ve eaten there 3 or 4 times and I am always impressed. They have a simple menu and keep it all really basic, but do this very well. Turn up at the wrong time and you are going to have quite a queue to get a table. Fortunately being old hats at it, we timed it well and got ourselves in and eating in no time.

There are now only 3 weeks until my short trip back home for Easter. We’re quite busy at work in the meantime though so I am sure it will be time to fly before I know it. I’m looking forward to seeing how much Blake and Chloe have grown since seeing them last. Which was only 10 months previous. I don’t even leave gaps of greater than a year now between visits back to Oz!

There isn’t long to go until I head back home for a couple of weeks over Easter. I’m hoping the weather in Australia will still be nice as it hasn’t been too great over here. I’ve been through 3 full winters in the UK now, and this one seems by far the coldest and lengthiest. Not that I’m whinging!

I bought some new shoes the other weekend. My previous ones which I bought a couple of months ago squeak constantly. The point where it gets embarrassing to walk anywhere so I tend to spend the entire day stood in one spot out of fear. So I’d had enough and decided to do it right and get some decent ones. At the shoe shop I decided on the ones I liked and the shop assistant said to me there was a 1 year guarantee on them. If anything went wrong I had a year to bring them back. Great! I thought. They are obviously confident in the quality of their shoe. Superb. Then I got the cash register and paid for them. The cashier there asked me if I was aware of the return policy. “Yes”, I said like a star pupil, “One year to return them”. She replied that it was the policy but only “if they were unused”. Unused? What, the shoes? How could I go a year without using them. “But I am buying them to wear them” I said. In case she thought I was buying them merely as decorative pieces. “Well you can only return them unworn”. How is that a guarantee? And why do they need it to be a year in length? Surely under those terms people will return them in a day or two or not at all.

The other thing I am currently doing is looking at the possibility of doing some development work for the iPhone. I’ve had one for 4 months now, and it is such an amazing gadget. The possibilities and usefulness of the device seem limitless. I never really wanted to lock myself in to a phone on a contract while in the UK as I am not really a big user, but I’m very happy with the choice I made. So I am going to give it a go. I have a bit of a head start already doing software development as a career, but it’s not for mobile phones and it’s not in the language used for the iPhone. So it is something that should keep me interested and if i end up with an app on the App Store making me a bit of pocket money through sales, then even better!

Currently I use it for emailing, reading news sites on the internet, getting train time, maps (including knowing where I currently am by GPS), messaging friends and family back home for free, watching tv (including Sky Sports which I subscribe to for £6/month), checking the weather forecast, facebook, skype, comparing prices while out shopping, booking restaurants. There really is an app for just about everything - which doesn’t leave me much to come up with!