Morocco

Its been a while since I have posted up here. Christmas has been and gone, family arguments have emerged and then faded away again. I am a little more tubby and a little more grumpy than I was before. But all in all, fun was had.

Last week I was in Morocco where we stayed i

n an amazing Riad just outside of the Marrakech city walls. Marrakech is essentially one massive maze of small streets and souks (covered marketplaces) which flog a mixture of tourist tat, Moroccan crafts and items for the locals. More often that not when you buy anything from these places you get massively ripped off, but after a while (and much shopping) you begin to understand the value of things and learn to offer a quarter (or less) of what they are demanding. 

The formula seemed to work well for us. Lucy proved herself to be an excellent bargainer (I am particularly poor, being too polite for my own good).

I thought I should post up  a few of the better photographs from the trip. Morocco is a photographers dream, vivid colours and unusual people are everywhere. You can spot snake charmers, storytellers and street apothecaries in the main squares at dusk, and during the day the sunlight breaks through the rough souk roofing an casts all sorts of interesting shadows.

Only one thing prevents the photography -  it is nearly impossible to take photographs of people because they will either a) become offende

d, or b) demand some money. therefore the majority of my photos are of places, animals or of people I have bought something from.  

The Berber village we stayed at, in the High Atlas mountains for one night whilst doing a bit of walking:

The football pitch below is approximately 2300m above sea level. The local kids hike up 

the mountain to the only bit of stone free, flat land available. I just wonder what happens when they lose the ball down the hill.

A couple of mules that we saw on a tannery trip in Marrakech. I guarantee to you that the one on the floor is alive as it lifted up its head about five seconds after I took the photo. I was unsure of its health though as I was for a number of other animals we saw around the city:

A very colourful orange cart:

The main square in Marrakech at dusk. Street performers and street food everywhere:

One of the more interesting souk shop-fronts in Marrakech. I spent about half an hour standing outside it as my mother bartered hard for an amber necklace across the road:

If you are interested, want to see the photos without the sides chopped off, or are a stalker the rest of the photos are on my Flickr page linked on the right. If you have any advice on how to display photos without the sides chopped off. Please let me know at the usual address.

Renault Clio 1.2 v Toyota Prius T4

I got delivery of my new company car this week - hurrah! Strange considering those who ordered Fords in my company wont have theirs for another three months and there isn't even a Prius manufacturer in the country.

So this week I swapped this:

Renault Clio 1.2 (2008) hire car with about 4000 miles on the clock.

For this:

Toyota Prius T4 (2008) with about 150 miles on the clock.

I settled straight into trying to prove to myself that the Prius was the right choice for me. Over the last 6 weeks or so of driving the Clio supermini, I kept a careful check on the miles per gallon I was managing to get over my normal driving route (mainly heavy motorway traffic on my commutes to Leeds and country driving on my commutes to Manchester). With the supermini 1.2 I was able to get on average 39.7mpg over the full 6 weeks. There were a few drives on which I managed to get it up as high as 43mpg with some concerted effort.

So in my first week of driving the Prius I have tried to use my normal driving style (albeit a little like a grandad as Lucy would tell you). Just to get a fairly like for like comparison (although the Prius is obviously much more spacious and heavier). So far I have managed an acceptable 52.9mpg.

In future weeks I plan to increase the grandaddedness of my driving style to see if I can't get that up a little. I will probably be going to Rattling the Kettle for a few tips on how to go about it (this may have to wait until late January due to the impending Morocco trip and some business in Canada).

Based upon my cig packet calculations the Prius would save me £460 of fuel per year (plus the additional tax benefits it holds). I think I should be able to get that figure up a little.

On Being a Scrooge

I have noticed a significant change in my other half over the last couple of weeks. She is noticeably more 'cheery' and 'enthusiastic' at the moment. Not that she wasn't 'cheery' and 'enthusiastic' before, just that it seems to be more obvious. 

I have found that more and more I am having listen to her 'enthusiastic' conversations she has at me, and they are getting longer and longer. 

And the whistling is kicking back in (I thought I was rid of that). 

Its not that I don't want to listen to her yarns. Its just that whenever she has an extended conversation at me, my mind fills with the last good tune I heard on the radio and I feel the need to whistle it out loud. 

Over the top of her talking. 

This evening it was 'This is a Low' by Blur (who incidentally are re-forming and touring in the summer) which got me into trouble.

Other strange things have been happening too...

....Lucy has been going on mysterious late night shopping trips and coming back laden with cheap tat

... the house is becoming decidedly more sparkly an Lucy appears to have acquired a bazillion small pieces of gold foil from her Nan which have taken pride of place trodden into the hallway carpet - twinkling in the moonlight when I go for my midnight toilet trip 

... and most bizarrely my bank balance seems to be ridiculously low for this time of the month.

Whats that? 

Oh ... its nearly Christmas!!! Well that explains it (particularly the bank balance thing).

I generally have a bit of a love / hate relationship with this Christmas thing. 

Whilst I don't mind the festivities of Christmas day - I can only take it in small proportions, and the stress of prolonged Christmas tends to put me a little on edge. Though Christmas Eve can be fun.

This generally evokes the response of "Dont be such a scrooge!" from a number of corners (mainly Lucy) followed by extended efforts to get me in the Christmas spirit by telling me how great it is and making me feel inadequate for not being a Christmas lover. Those Christmas promoters just love to try to turn a scrooge.

This Christmas, however will be fairly different to other Christmases. This Christmas my Mum has taken the step to attempt to avoid Christmas altogether. This Christmas we are going to a Arab country - where there will be NO Christmas!

On the 19th of December Lucy, myself, my little mentioned big sister, her boyfriend and my mum will be traveling to Morocco where we will spend time in Marrakesh (hopefully with a little spell in the High Atlas Mountains).

(High Atlas mountains - not my photo!)

However due to this, the Lucy clan have opted to postpone Christmas to Boxing day - so I will be doing it all anyway. Plan foiled.

How to Bypass NHS Waiting Lists

Last night I was down at the Foundry climbing wall with The Nurse. We've just started doing a bit of lead climbing being beginners and were attempting to tackle some of the overhangs.

For me, lead climbing is a bit more exciting down at the wall that you traditional top roping. Basically rather than being suspended all of the way up, you clip in as you go. The excitement comes with the fact that is you fall off - you fall down the distance to your last clip in point, and then that same distance again below the clip. And then you fall a little bit more if the guy who is belaying you is not really paying attention and has left a little bit too much slack in the rope.

The slight apprehension about what will happen when you eventually fall and smack into the wall makes you fear just that little bit more. And the fear makes you grip a little bit harder. It all adds to the rush!

At one particularly memorable point in the night I was belaying for The Nurse who was attempting a relatively easy climb, but on a relatively difficult overhang. He had already made significant progress and had fallen a couple of times. I was trying to maintain attention, but have to admit, was getting bored with slow progress and was probably diverting a little too much attention to climbers on the other walls.

The Nurse was about half way up the wall when he managed to get both his feet onto a rather large oval shaped hold. At this point he decided to make a relatively straightforward move and reach up for the next one. He extended his foot to get a little more height ... when ... POP! Not usually a good sign. The Nurse fell off and I lowered him down.

He seemed to be in a fair bit of pain. To be honest, the Nurse has a little bit of a history of injury. I used to play roller-hockey with him a number of years ago and he got injured so many times that he ended up acquiring a (very un PC, I am ashamed to say) nickname of 'Cripple' by which he was known in my mobile phone for many years. Most of the time he was just being a big wus in my experience. But something made me believe that it wasn't so this time.

It could have been something to do with the fact that he nearly puked in the middle of the climbing hall, or the masses of sweat, or the rather horrible swollen blue colour his left ankle had gone - but I sensed something might really be wrong.

So we went to the local minor injuries unit at A&E and something quite remarkable happened. We walked up to the desk and the receptionist took a few details. Name, age, etc. What surprised me was that when she got to 'occupation' - 'Staff Nurse', the ballgame changed.

Anyone familiar with NHS A&E department, will probably be familiar with that little board you often get. The one which shows waiting time. This usually flashes by at around 1.5 hours, sometimes 3 on a Saturday night. If you have a minor injury, you may be lucky to get to the front of the queue at all! OK, so its maybe not that bad, but I was certainly expecting a long night.

But apparently if you are a staff nurse, it seems you can completely bypass the queue, nevermind the heart attacks of the broken necks, get seen to immediately - and whats more bypass the x-ray queue as well and be back out of the hospital within about 35 minutes!

Bonus was that we managed to get out just before the kick off to the England - Germany game, and get a few beers (which the Nurse was adamant, increased the effect of his pain killers).

Only downside is that now I dont have anyone to climb with.

(oh -yeah and The Nurse has to have an operation which I guess is a downside too).

A New Prius

Though this really has not been the top of my mind this week, mainly due to the fact that my office has just laid off 15% of its workforce - I have just put an order in for a new company car - a Toyota Prius T4.

It was basically down to a battle between the Prius and the Mondeo Diesel Titanium, and a Ford Focus. The Prius had a number of things working against it for me:

• Its a fairly old car - having been released back in 2003. The Toyota dealer I spoke to made me aware of the new Prius coming out in 2009 which will achieve way more MPG. The Prius essentially also looks a bit dated; and
• I love diesels (due to their power, torque, drivability and fuel consumption relative to petrols (excluding the Prius obviously)), and like manuals;

But essentially I did the sensible thing and opted for the Prius based upon:

• The taxation rates being extremely low;
• The relative cost of diesel and petrol at the moment will save me a shed tonne of money;
• I spend most of my driving time stuck in heavy traffic - so performance is not that important to me;
• It makes some kind of statement (whether it is the one I want or not);
• It has cool gadgets on the dashboard;
• My friends won't take the p*s out of me;
• And to be honest - I really should figure out how these things work!

So it looks like I will be receiving delivery in around 10 weeks or so. I shall spend my time wisely perusing Rattling the Kettle's "Maximising Gas Mileage in a Toyota Prius". Although I shall probably be putting petrol in mine.

Cutting up the Dancefloor

I finally have hold of my package which I sent to myself from Australia. This means that I have the lead from my camera (which I stupidly posted) which allows me to download my photos (and videos) to my laptop.  So I have spent the afternoon sorting them all out.

This afternoon I re-discovered this gem from our September trip to Brighton. The Sergeant Major cutting up the dancefloor:

Nothing else could have cheered me up more from thoughts of what is to come on Monday (and a pesky bout of Man-flu. I particularly like the bit where he realises he is being filmed and suddenly switches to "cool" mode.

p.s. apologies for the sideway video. I haven't quite worked out how to get it right way up!

An Edgy Weekend

For those who don't know. I work in industrial / commercial energy efficiency and carbon management. Workloads are ever increasing (as are energy prices). Not to sound bigheaded - I am fairly in demand as are many of my colleagues. Therefore I have never felt any real fear about an economic downturn.

However.

I do have an understanding that when the proverbial hits the fan in the economy - it is those in non-essential services who will feel it first. City centre workers in offices doing marketing, selling luxury goods, providing advice and consultancy much the same as mine.

Also.

The majority of my co-workers (my department excluded) operate in the property market. Either directly or indirectly. You may have heard - the property market aint so boyant at the moment. This has made me fear for my company's ability to be profitable (I am loyal to my company). This has made me fear for my colleagues (and friends) wellbeing who have a much lighter order book than ours.

I am told there will be an announcement in the office next week.

I will spend the weekend sweating.

Slightly Left of the Centre

I was about to launch into a long monologue about how I have just noticed that all of the large English speaking nations now have "centre-left" (term used loosely) parties in power. For example:

• In the US the Democrats are soon to be in power with Barrack Obama
• In Australia Kevin Rudds Labour Party ousted the Liberals (who in Australia are right-wing) in late 2007
• In the UK we have been under Labour rule for some years (couldn't be bothered to work out how many). Argue as you may about how log this will last.
• In South Africa Kgalema Petrus Motlanthe is Centre Left not that I understand how South African parliament works
• In New Zealand Helen Clark of the Labour party is Prime Minister. Though by all accounts this may not las long either.

Then I realised that I had forgotten about Canada. To be fair I had always thought that Canada had a centre-left government, but Wikipedia told me that apparently some guy called Stephen Harper is in charge over there and he some kind of conservative.

I had also forgotten about Ireland (Eire) that has I believe a kind of centre-right coalition alliance which is too complicated for me to comprehend. Then again my old American flatmate didn't even realise that Ireland was a separate country to the UK (and his girlfriend was "Irish" - or at least, she drank Guinness)

Myself - I will always be a little left wing. It come from growing up in a household with a teacher for a Dad, a social worker for a mum, a nurse for a brother and an NHS worker for a sister. Being a bit of an environmentalist myself, I have always leaned towards the policies of the Left wing parties.

It doesn't really seem to matter in the UK that a large proportion of the population have recently become a little disillusioned with our supposed centre-left government. You can bet that the vast majority of Brits were rooting for Obama (not that it matters).

I think British people are scared of Republicans. To me they are kind of like Etonians with guns.

10 Things I Love About Sheffield

A couple of weeks ago I had my first big pang of regret - I regretted leaving Sydney for the first time. 

I was driving home. The rain was horizontal (they have rain in Sydney but it tends to obey the laws of gravity over there). My car windows were in that kind of permanent partially misted up state that you get  (it doesn't matter how high you set your blowers). I thought to myself, the trip home from work in Oz would have been a pleasant bike ride in the sunshine. It hurt.

But on the whole I have really been enjoying being back. And really enjoying Sheffield (more than I imagined I would). 10 things I like about Sheffield?

• There are 5 separate indoor climbing places within 10 mins of my house (in Sydney there was one within half an hour). Sheffield is pretty much the UK centre of climbing;
• I can get on my bike and be out in the Peak District national park within 10 minutes (boy did I miss this countryside);
• I can go out for a run and be in the Peaks in 15 minutes;
• I can get in my car and be in the Peaks in 2 minutes;
• Did I mention I like the peaks?
• I have managed to find a few cool hangouts with live Jazz etc;
• I can afford to rent a 3 story townhouse set back in a wooded area for less than a 3rd floor flat would be in Sydney;
• I am learning to lead climb;
• I am loving the local curry house;
• There are many excellent country pubs in easy striking distance (something I didn't think I got in Leeds).

On the bad side:

• The 3 hour round trip to work;
  
• After living abroad I have come to realise that english food (which I always defended) is pretty crap.
  

Thats 10 against 2 I think which makes this an OK move I suppose.

An Admission of Guilt

On Thursday night a couple of weeks ago I was shamed.

Lucy came back from her boxing class early and caught the Nurse and I in the cellar together.

Why we didn't lock the door I have no idea.

How we failed to hear her descending down the cellar steps I don't know.

We were deeply engrossed in our embarassing, self indulgent act.

We thought we were safe. We thought no-one would catch us.

As she burst in, surprising us - we were red faced. Downcast. Speechless.

There was nothing we could say.

Since that moment Lucy has told me that she is a little less in love with me. A little less attracted to me.

For on Thursday night a couple of weeks ago, Lucy came back from her boxing class and caught the Nurse (Paul) and I playing war games with our old citadel miniatures.

A Geeky Industry "In Joke"

A Fine Chap

This weekend just gone I played host and chef to Lucy's parents and my mum. It was a thoroughly pleasant affair. I once again proved my mastery of the kitchen in the eternal struggle for dominance in the Lucy and Sam cooking stakes (though Lucy will never admit defeat).

Then, a couple of days later, we were happily surprised by a little letter that came through the door. I don't as a rule open my post, as the only people that send posts in the modern world appear to be banks and catalogues - and I don't want to hear from either. But Lucy got there first this time.

The letter was from Lucy's elderly nan. It began:

"Dearest Lucy and Sam, 

I hope you're both ok and fit. Mum [Lucy's mum] said she'd enjoyed her w/e with you both. Also pleased to have seen Sam's mum and what a grand fellow he is to do the cooking for you all, he's a grand chap so helpful and thoughtful just the kind of husband anyone would be proud of, well mum forgot to ask you if you wanted a christmas tree? I have one in the loft with all the trimmings..."

So it looks like a glowing review from the jury I feared. And a free Christmas tree to boot (though I hope it is a fake one as I am not sure how a real one would have fared in the loft for a year).

However I am slightly concerned that Lucy's Nan for some unknown reason thinks that we are married! I am not sure if Lucy or her family have been spreading these allegations around. I wonder what she would think if she found out we are living in sin!

Afterthought: I hope she doesn't know how to use the internet.

The Most Powerful Jury of All

Some people may tell you that your bachelor life is well and truly over when you get a girlfriend and it becomes steady and you have to become a little more selfless in your actions. Or even when you become serious and do crazy things like move in together. Perhaps your bachelor life is over that first time your girlfriend tells you you can't go out and get drunk at the pub with your mates as she wants you to spend the evening with her watching X-Factor and eating ice-cream.

I guess technically your bachelor life is over when you get married.

I have been having some thoughts recently. I am starting to think that bachelorhood - that precious thing that we all hang onto - that small feeling that you are still (at least partially) in control of your life, is officially over when your parents first come into contact with those of your other half.

Beyond this point in life, you can no longer argue pointlessly with your significant other. You have to begin to accept defeat graciously from time to time. You have to agree to things like going to the cinema and watching 'House Bunny' and 'Mama Mia' even though you have to bury your head in your partners arm the whole way through to avoid excessive cringing / puking or both (as was recently discovered).

The chances of your relationship breaking up past this pivotal point significantly diminish. There is literally no escape. And for one reason ...

Shame.

For beyond this moment in your life you are subject to fear of shame. You have created a network in which you are ensnared.

A network of powerful women.

Beyond this moment should something happen, be it something so trivial as going out with your friends one too many times, be it something more important like blowing your life savings on hookers and cocaine and falling asleep in your own vomit - your actions are subject to judgement by that most powerful jury.

Your mother, your partner, your potential future mother-in-law. All working as one.

You can't fight that!

This weekend I take the step.

What is 'Cool' Anyway?

When I was car free living in Sydney, pedalling my merry way to work everyday in the sunshine, everything was simple, no car, no car tax, no tolls, no insurance, no MOTs, no breakdown cover. It was nice.

However, some small part of me whilst over there was really eager to come back to the UK knowing that I would have to run a car again (as my company contract demands) and I could buy whatever I liked.

At that point my visions of a late 90's Audi convertible were scuppered by the need to have something efficient and reliable. Equally eager hours spent exploring autotrader.com for my dream Alfa Romeo GT left me demoralised by lack of affordability and a bit of a desire not to get into debt in this slightly uncertain period of time we are in.

So, I am lucky as I can opt into my company car scheme and get a new (or nearly new) car without all of the risk of getting a huge loan. I am not complaining.

The company car list, however - since my company was consumed as a minnow, by a goliath of an organisation - has changed somewhat. Hatchbacks, small efficient diesels, and people carriers have been replaced with cars more traditionally viewed as company cars in the UK: Ford Mondeo's, Toyota Avensis', estates (stationwagons) and saloons.

My worry is that I can't help but think that an estate car is going to seriously affect my ability to pull 'bitches' of a weekend (obviously a pastime of which I am particularly fond). They will see me coming and straightaway assume that I am a middle manager or a salesman (which probably, if I thought about it, I am) and will instantly run a mile.

However, I have recently been trying to convince myself that a Ford Mondeo can be cool. That if I am young and hip and I say things like Awesome and Dude - that an estate car will become kind of ironically cool. A statement of my rebellion against the trappings of the modern day rat race. I will become the embodyment of everything that is anti middle class, anti middle of the road salesman.

I can't help but think ... that was what my dad tried to do...

On Why I am Slightly Evil

In about August 2003, I was supping a pint of over priced lager in Headingley's Trio Bar. With me was one of my best friends from University who had just got a job offer from a major company on a graduate scheme. We were celebrating her success.

With us was a guy from London who was a good friend of my friend, but whom I had always ever so slightly disliked due to excessive niceness and slimyness. When this friend of mine went away to the bar, I had a conversation with this guy that went a little like this:

Sam: "Its really good news about [insert name here]'s new job isn't it?'
Guy: "Yeah, its alright - doesnt pay that well through" (bear in mind that her starting salary was £10k above the starting salary that I had)
Sam: "What do you mean - think it is pretty good?"
Guy: "Yeah well, I have been temping for the last year, but I am looking for a Job that starts at over £40k"
Sam: "What the hell kind of job starts at £40k?"
Guy: " I am going to be an investment banker"
Sam's mind (note that I did not actually say this out loud, but it could probably be read on my face) "Who the hell is going to give you a £40k starting salary when all you have done for the last year is work in a call centre and get pissed at the weekend? And in addition to that you only have some kind of second class degree from an easy arts course in a middle of the road university you plonker? And in addition to that you are quite obviously a bit of a kn*b!"
What Sam actually said: "Oh good luck with that."

Anyway, it turns out he did get that investment banking job! And when I asked someone how on earth he managed it, they told me: "His Dad knew someone".

So there it is. In this age of equality, meritocracy, whatever you want to call it - 'my mind' was stupid enough to believe that people who earn big bucks and big bonuses (and with this carry big responsibilities) were the cream of the crop. They graduate with first class honours in banking from fancy universities, and work hard for 60 hours per week.

This really annoyed me. That this guy who was obviously a bit (but not excessively) dim, and incredibly greedy (and a bit of a kn*b), walked straight into this job with a nod from his high flying father. Also I was wrong (I hate it when I am wrong).

Replace the 'B' with a 'W' and you will know how much love I have held for 'Investment Bankers', for the last 5 years - based almost entirely and completely irattionally on my experience with this guy and similar types I have met.

Fast forward 5 years and the economy begins to crumble partially due to the greed, lack of foresight and lack of transparency of the dealings of some of the big London banking firms. Today we hear that Bradford and Bingley are the latest bank to require bailing out. All I hear about on thye news are reports of staff laid off in investment arms of major players worldwide.

I dont profess to know much about the economy. I definately don't wish financial hardhip on these money shufflers and their families (though I wouldnt mind if a few of them had to go out and get 'proper' jobs doing 'tangible' things).

But a little bit of me deep down (alright not very deep down), hopes that that little pillock gets sacked and has to work in Asda...

Jaded Rock Stars

An airport is a little bit like a tardis. It doesn't matter how hectic your life is, commuting, working, trying to get all those other daily tasks (such as maintaining basic hygiene) done in between, the moment you get to an airport - everything slows almost to a halt. You queue. You sit. You contemplate. You think about how much you would like to punch one of those smarmy security guards who single you out for a bag search right in the face.

Leeds Bradford Airport is even more like a tardis because it looks like it hasn't been refurbished since 1960. The foam is coming out of the seats, the carpets are worn away to nothing, and the seem to be the only airport left in the world that still makes you take your belt (even though it only contains approximately 1 gram of metal and doesn't set the detector off) and shoes off.

Still, here I am trying to get to Northern Ireland with my plane 3 hours delayed, andI finally have the time (and the internet access) to write a blog post:

You may remember some time ago, me writing this post about the Fun Lovin Criminals playing at the Picturedrome in the tiny little town in which I was brought up?

Well at the weekend, I went to see another band whose albums (or at least one of their albums)were even more overplayed by me than the FLC. At the weekend, I went to see Ocean Colour Scene. If you are an American, you will probably not know who Ocean Colour Scene are. In fact you will probably even baulk at the spelling of 'colour'. But OCS' retro Mod style album Moseley Shoals came out when I was at the beginning of my musical awareness when I was around 15 years old - and I loved it!

I spent many an hour arguing the merits of Ocean Colour Scene's Moseley Shoals (excellent musicians with excellent voices) over Ash's 1977 (could neither sing nor play) - though I loved them both.

What was most impressive about this Ocean Colour Scene gig was how the lead singer managed 4 pints of lager during the relatively short set.

In fact, judging by the colour of his face (i.e. very red), the tiredness in his face, and the dissinterest shown in the set - he had probably indulged in one or two too many pints of lager over the last 10 years or so. I dont know whether anyone else has had the same experience, but seeing rock stars somewhat past their prime can shatter boyhood illusions.

Still, he managed to pull out some golden oldies and the crowd finished off some of their songs for them. And I enjoyed myself.

Mosely Shoals will always remain in my top 5 albums of all time.

A List

A number of things have happened since I last posted on this blog:

• I have been without the internet
• 27 days have past
• The number of hits on my site have gone from 35 per day to <5
• The number of unread posts in my feed reader have grown to number in their hundreds (with Jerrychicken and Quit Your Day Job fighting to take most posts pole position)
• I have moved from the business and beaches city of Sydney to the derilict industrial units, rolling hills and nightlife of Sheffield
• I have swapped cycling to work in the sunshine for driving vast distances to work in the rain
• I have developed a shed load of debt I need to pay off
• I accepted a position in my old company (and have begun working with the same clients I was working with before I left)

Basically within the space of 1 month, my time in Australia has come to feel like a dream. Something that never quite happened. If it wasn't for the occasional emails I get from old work colleagues and the photographs (and the debt) I would actually wonder if had ever been at all.

The Land of the Long White Cloud

In an hour I will be setting off back to the UK. I am currently staying with friends in an apartment overlooking the beach. I contemplated doing a run or taking a walk on the beach in my last hour. But eventually settled on writing my final New Zealand blog post.

I recently learned that when the Maori settled New Zealand, they named it Aotearoa. This can apparently be translated into 'The Land of the Long White Cloud' and its easy to see why they chose this name.

As we were driving back towards Lake Takepo on our second to last day, we experienced the Long white cloud in all of its glory. Coupled with the fresh snow on the ground everywhere, it was majestic:

We took another couple of photos from the road:

Our last night we spent in Lake Takepo which is close to the site where the New Zealand Prime Minister's hiking party recently had to give unsuccessful CPR to one of her close friends in a remote mountain hut. There were film crews everywhere.

In the morning we drove up to the observatory on the hill overlooking the lake:

Two Days Two Sounds

Milford Sound

On our second full day we drove the five hours past some amazing scenery to Milford Sound. According to Wikipedia Rudyard Kipling named the Sound (although it is actually  Fjord and not a Sound) the 8th wonder of the world and it is easy to see why. The Maori used to visit the area for fishing in the cold winter months, and European settlers have always been attracted to the area. However it wasn't until the 40's that an easy route to the Sound could be built.

This is because Milford sound is pretty darn remote. Over two hours drive from the nearest petrol station, you have to be careful what to take (snow chain and fuel being essential). The drive takes you over some mountainous terrain and over a pass culminating in  a long tunnel that delves beneath the mountains. I spent some time reading about the construction of the road which was in itself no small feat and took many men, many years.

The beauty of our trip was that because it was midwinter (and around 0 degrees), there were barely any other tourists (as with the Routeburn track) as they were all up at the ski fields in Queenstown. But the scenery is perfect in any weather (provided you have the right clothes), in fact changes in weather made the scenery even more amazing and the trip even more exciting!

Here is a photo of a rainy clearing in the forest on one of our short walks (there will be more up on Flickr when I can get them to upload):

And the Sound itself when the clouds finally cleared:

Lucy chilling out:

But alas, we were unable to go on a boat trip out to the sound, just after taking this last photo, we were informed by the tourist office that the snows were closing in and the road would close at 5pm (40 minutes time) with the potential for being closed for s few days. We had to high tail it out of there.

Lake Manapouri and Doubtful Sound

We were so taken with the sound that we decided to drive as quickly as we could to Lake Manapouri (the gateway to Doubtful Sound) that afternoon. Lake Manapouri is in itself serene and beautiful. I took a nice shot in the morning:

To get to Doubtful Sound from here we had to take a 1 hour boat trip across the lake to the beginning of the Wilmot Pass (a very high pass created during the construction of the nearby Hydro Power station and not connected to any other roads!). And it snowed. And it snowed some more. And we were in a coach (albeit fitted with snow chains). And the road had some of the steepest roads in New Zealand:

From the other side of the pass, we caught another boat for a 3 hour trip around the Sound. We did see some seals, but couldn't see a lot due to the severity of the snowstorm. the captain said that he had never seen snow so far down in the Sound.

But it was beautiful to see and we were visiting the Sound as it is usually seen (it rains 2 out of 3 days there). I took this one of an extremely blue looking little boat against an extremely white background:

Another Slide Show - You Lucky People!

Lucy and I just got back from our whistle-stop tour of New Zealand, we spent most of our time down near Queenstown around which a large part of the Lord of the Rings was filmed (mostly the scenes that involved the Misty mountains and Gondor).

It is absolutely spectacular!

I would like to say that I managed to take some excellent photographs during the trip - but the truth is that the photographs took themselves - I was just pushing the button.

Every drive we went on, everywhere we stayed we saw scenery that we didn't think actually existed. New Zealand is now officially my favourite country ever.

And now for the slide show...

View of Mount Cook

On our first day we set off in our hire car from Christchurch to Glenorchy (1 hours drive north of Queenstown). After a couple of hours driving we passed lake Tekapo and Lake Pukaki. the greenish stones in the lake give it a turquoise hue and the water is the clearest your will ever see. This picture is of Mount Cook as viewed from the opposite side of Lake Pukaki.

The Routeburn Track

On our first full day we drove from Glenorchy and hit the Routeburn track. The full trail was closed to us due to snow and avalance risk, but we did the first day. 

A rockfall at part of the track had removed some of the trees and enabled us to get a good view of the surrounding mountains.

More to follow...

The RouteBURN

I am in New Zealand at the moment. Did I tell anyone I was going to New Zealand? I can't remember, everything has been such a confused mess of activity over the last week or so.

Its Tuesday morning. We spent yesterday (our first full day) doing the first 8 hr leg of the Routeburn track (allgedly one of the top 10 walking tracks in the world). The scenery is like nothing I have ever seen before. It is literally like walking through middle earth!

I can't upload any pictures as yet, but here is link to some (entirely random) photos of the region.

The 8th of the 8th 2008

Today is the 8th day of the 8th month in 2008. A date which will end up having no significance for some people.

For me it is my last day at work and my 5th to last day in Australia! And boy am I stressed.

I hate letting people down and have come in extra early to try to get this project as far along as I can in order to reduce stress for others in the future. But I am failing.

Couple this with the fact I am trying to move out tomorrow and am trying to sell everything I own.

I am so very close to that "oh bugger it!" decision whereby I just leave work and go home.

George is Back!

Anyone remember my little post about George? No?

Well as a little reminder George is this guy who goes to all of the climate change and energy talks around Sydney and heckles the speakers with the same spiel about a petition signed by 30,000 scientists proves that man made climate change does not exist.

Well this week George made it big!

I was watching this excellent ABC talk show  online today. The speakers are all working in and around the climate change field, although the premise is that they can be asked any question on any subject. If anyone wants to get a bit of a background on climate change politics in Australia, then give it a watch.

When 11 mins and 42 seconds in, our old friend George (or at least I think it is him) pops his hand up and asks a surprisingly familiar question / comment (I am beginning to wonder whose payroll he is on) . Watch how the talk show host bats away his comment without breaking stride.

Interesting panel guests on the show include:

Penny Wong - Impressive minister for climate change and lady of the moment. Basically everybody at my work watches her every move, translating comments and interviews into advice for clients.

Tim Flannery - A scientist, and guy I very much admire for his straight talking and sense. I reviewed his book in a past post here. And would recommend that anyone looking to learn more about climate change give it a read.

Tim Wilson - Random unknown pillock.

Malcolm Turnbull - Loves himself a bit too much and needs to cut back on the fake tan. Liberal politician (Liberal basically means right wing in Australia for some reason). Plays devils advocate.

Catherine Harris - Runs my local grocery store chain. Makes a lot of sense.

This is my Brother

This is my brother.

His name is Dan.

He lives on the other side of the world, and also here.

Once when I was young I slammed his head in my bedroom door so he punched a hole right through it.

Once he also convinced me to trade my VHS vide recorder for his Betamax plus a few old recordings of Japanese Godzilla flicks.

He has grown up a bit since then, but still has a face like cross between Santa and an Orang-utan

Dan is on the finishing leg of his mammoth Dales Walk , a fundraiser that he is undertaking for the Joseph Salmon Trust which you can read about here.

I don't think I have a lot of readers, but I would implore those that I do have to go over to Dans site and see exactly what he has been up to, and give a little bit of money if it can be spared to take that total a little bit higher for Dan on his return from his walk.

Here is a little bit about the Trust

"The Joseph Salmon Trust supports parents who have lost a child by providing financial assistance to those who need it most. This may be to help with funeral costs or to allow the self employed a break from work while they come to terms with their loss. Grieving families have enough to deal with without worries about where they will find the money to say goodbye to their child or pay the next electricity bill. Nothing we can do can make their situation better, but we can do something to stop it getting worse."

Life For Sale

May of you probably read in the papers about this guy in Perth who put his entire life for sale on eBay. He split up with his wife and decided on a fresh start. He then proceeded to sell all of his earthly possessions in one lump sum. His house. His car. His jetski. Even a trial week at his job!

Thats just about how I feel now. I have spent the last couple of weeks putting almost everything I own up for sale on Gumtree. I can't believe how much tuff it is possible to amass in the space of only 9 months.

Its also pretty painful, complete strangers poring over your stuff, casting a critical eye over your sofa covers and haggling over your clothes airer. I really can't imagine how we are going to get rid of all of these things in the two weeks we have left here. 

Thought for the day - the more things you own, the more stressful your life!

Also here is a picture of the view from Cairns to complete my series...

A Torn Heart

I am sitting here posting at work.

I have a lot on, and clients pestering me about various things I should have sent to them. But I am pretty calm and relaxed. Thinking about going to the gym at lunchtime.

What's keeping me nice and relaxed is the thought that any of the work that I do not manage to finish over the next three weeks immediately becomes somebody elses problem. Sounds harsh I know, but I am really finding it quite hard to motivate myself (this is, of course partially due to the fact that I went to Lowenbrau at The Rocks last night and indulged in 1 litre glasses of beer).

Every time I let someone new know I am leaving and going back to the UK, they say "why do you want to leave Australia?"

I can't say anything to them about the company, so I cite personal reasons.

In truth, personally I am pretty torn and struggle to repel their attempts to persuade me to stay.

I miss friends and family, and the support I get in the UK. I miss the work I was doing over there which I felt was very progressive and innovative.

I have no idea, though if in a years time, I will be regretting the decision, wishing I had spent more time in Sydney, cycling, hiking, climbing, windsurfing etc...

What is certain is that I will miss the people over here. I will miss the banter in the office, I will miss the trips to the beach. Despite work issues, I think I will miss my newfound responsibilities that were somewhat forced upon me.

I dont think I will miss the city though. The city is not for me.

There is no doubt that in a few years time, Lucy and I will get the travelling itch again , and have some more different experiences. Maybe even back in some other part of Australia or New Zealand.

Bagara

This one I will imaginatively entitle "Lucy with Sandcastle". Taken in a little town called Bagara near Bundaberg.

We didn't build the sandcastle, we just benefitted from somebody else's hard work.

The Whitsundays

Another day, another place. We went to the Whitsundays (I believe named after the prolific blogger Whit, who is fond of his Sundays) which were all beautiful silica sands and clear blue waters ... blah, blah.

No more of my desolate skylines today. While in the Whitsundays we spied this little fellah.

While he was no Komodo dragon, this little fellah did cause much amusement for some of my fellow tourists many of whom were sat huddled up on their seats.

Clairview

On one particularly mammoth stretch of the Bruce Highway we chose a random little group of houses to stop in and change over driving responsibilities. We were glad we did, for although there was nothing really in the small hamlet of Clairview, we rounded the corner to see some spectacular views of some mud flats at sunset. A perfect photography opportunity:

This one is my favourite:

I also like this one (mildly altered):

For some reason we couldn't help thinking of the film 'the Never Ending Story' (the cause of a lot of my childhood nightmares).

You will notice that many of my photographs has a dark and desolate theme to them! I am not sure whether this is because of my mood, or because it pretty much didn't stop raining for our entire time in Queensland!

Rainbow Beach

We have returned from our little travels and have seen quite a bit, but I will save the detail for future posts (I can hear the excitement from here).

This week will be the week of administration for me, before my return. However, I think I will find enough time each day to post up some of my exciting holiday snaps each day, you lucky, lucky people.

It will be great, just like that times you had over at your uncle John's where you spent hours looking at his slideshow of the family holiday in Skegness and listening to tales of bingo halls and donkey rides! 

Rainbow beach about 3.5 hours north of Brisbane was our first overnight stop in the 'Dwarf'. It rained mostly, but in between the rain (and before we had to get some helpful Tazmanians to haul us out of the sand with their 4x4) we managed to get a brief reprive and took a little run down the beach.

Rainbow beach is called so because of the interesting colours in the sand. I managed to get some good shots of clouds gathering and forming interesting reflections in the shallow waves.

It was pretty sweet waking up to this in the morning...

Ok So I Was Lying

I said I wasn't going to post this week on my trip to Queensland, but I have found myself sitting in an internet cafe in Hervey Bay waiting for Lucy to finish a job application form.

We picked up our camper van yesterday from Wicked Campers (which is the norm for backpackers in Oz - mainly because they are extremely cheap).

I was a little worried by the idea of using Wicked but unfortunately our other camper van that we wanted fell through. I was worried not because they were poor quality, or because they are expensive. Basically Wicked gains product differentiation by daubing graffitti, pictures and slogans all over their vans. Some of the pictures are pretty tanme, this morning we passed one with the cookie monster painted on, but some of them are a lot worse.

When you pick up a Wicked camper there is an extremely high chance when getting one, that yours will be fairly obscene. I have seen plenty of rude phrases and pictures of naked women etc, etc.

Anyway, we got lucky. I am looking outside a the van now and there is just a pitcure of the 7 dwarves from Snow white on the side ... oh no ... let me look a bit closer ... thats right the 7 dwarves are performing unmentionable sex acts with 7 sheep! All with very happy innocent smiles on their faces ... the perverts.

Actually thats not true - only five of the dwarves are perfoming unmentionable sex acts with sheep. One of the dwarves has obtained a little stool from somewhere and is perfoming unmentionable sex acts with a cow! And his little dwarf friend is helping to hold the cow. Nice.

We woke up this morning on Rainbow Beach which was absolutely stunning. Unfortunately I cant post any pictures as I dont have the correct cable.

We also got the van stuck in some sand and had to get it pulled out by a passing 4x4. But thats another story ...

Time Out

This is it. The end. I am leaving you. Goodbye.

Actually we are going on a little trip up to Queensland for a week. Hoping to take in Fraser Island and the Great Barrier Reef. If it is still there. so no blogging for a while.

Oh, and I handed my notice in today. It went a little like: "By the way I am leaving, oh and you remember I am on holiday next week don't you?" 

In which Sam goes to his first sporting event since Huddersfield Town v Liverpool reserves in 1989

In Australia they have this thing called 'football'. Well we have that in the UK too but 'football' (sometimes fondly referred to as 'footie' means something different over here.

Football is a game played on a massive oval pitch with 18 players on each side. They kick the ball to one another out of their hands and others try to catch it. Then they have to kick the ball through some posts ... that pretty much it.

It appears to me that there are a couple of misconceptions relating to Aussie rules football:

The first one banded around by people in the UK is that it is very violent. 'There are no rules' and 'you can do what you like' being common points of views. This is incorrect as there are plenty of rules in Aussie rules football and it is barely more violent than what these crazy people call 'soccer'. The main issue with the game (it appears to me) is that the rules can be interpreted in about a million different ways by the 'umpire' (there are about 6 umpires so far as I can tell). This lead to a lot of berating of the ref (as with any sport)

The second is the myth that footie fans are rowdy. As a part of our 'trying to do as many Aussie thing as possible' campaign Lucy and I went last weekend to see the Collingwood Magpies take on the Sydney Swans. We were made to be Collingwood fans as the friend of ours who took us there is an avid supporter. Collingwood are notorious throughout Australia for having the most hated, violent, rowdy fans. 

We saw none of that. The supporters for each team were mixed in together (if you did that in a European Football match, there would be death somewhere) and the atmosphere was friendly and relaxed. Most people hardly got up from their seats. Now thats my kind of live sport!

So for those of you who don't know what Aussie rules football is, here is a little taster:

(I was actually sat behind (one of) the sets of posts)

Two Minds

So one big step involved in returning to the UK is my job resignation. I find it very hard.

Its not as if I think I have been treated particularly fairly by my oz company, ands it not as if I am particularly enamored with my job, but I still find resignation hard.

I have however helped my company to make some big wins and get a motley assortment of good projects together over the last 10 months. I will try to finish some of them off, but it wont be possible for all.

Also, deep down I am a very loyal person. It took me 6 month to quit my washing up job when I was 16, because I basically don't like letting people down.

Tomorrow I need to get my act together and do the deed.

Night and Day

Tonight, I am stranded in a little hotel room in the middle of Melbourne, having to stay another day with work as some measurements that we were taking went a little bit wrong today and I have to go back tomorrow.

Lucy is sitting alone in the flat bored and with no friends (if you know where we live, dont break in though - she has a gun, honest), and I am sitting alone in my hotel room ... bored and with no friends.

I have no picture to post of Melbourne. I have nothing specific to say. I think I will just ramble on about the city a little from my (limited) experience...

Melbourne is a pretty common destination for Brits who decide to migrate here. The Aussies joke that it is because the crappy weather reminds them of England. I think it runs a little deeper than that.

Melbourne to me is the night where Sydney is the day.

Sydney is kind of the beautiful but airheaded surfer chick. Stunning to look at but with not much underneath, a lack of culture.

Melbourne is the slightly uglier grungy type. Not so pretty, not the popular one at school, but when you look a bit deeper, full of intrugue and promise.

Melbourne suffers from none of the strict liscencing laws I previously took issue with in Sydney, on Sunday night we went to a bar (I forget the name) that was essentially an old cargo container covered in graffiti surrounded by crates for sitting on. It was a blooming refreshing. Not a suit in sight.

I think I could spend a long time exploring its ways. Its back alleys are covered in cafe's and bars, the people are multicultural and interesting and even the tourist spots have their charm.

I still couldn't see myself here though. I (we) have kind of come to the conclusion that living anwhere that it takes more than 20 minute to drive to some form of countryside is not for us. We find really large cities stifling and a little uninteresting to be honest. Bring on the Peaks!

11:12pm

Its 11:12 pm here in Sydney (actually probably later by the time I post this). Lucy was asked to call a school in Sheffield for a telephone interview for a teaching assistant job.

Apparently all of the other applicant are having face to face interviews today with the board. They also wanted Lucy to face the school board for her application. 

So she called up the school and began here telephone interview. Upon calling them, they came up with the bright idea of asking her to write responses to the interview questions and submit them via email to the board members within one hour so she could then be assessed as with other applicants. This is causing her great distress.

Alternatively they could have pressed the speakerphone button...

... just an idea.

Miscellaneous Stuff

I forgot to post this picture up from the weekend:

This is a picture of Lucy and I at a murder mystery party we (she) hosted last Friday. If you ave never done a murder mystery party, it is a little like Dungeons and Dragons for people who consider themselves cool and sophisticated. And it involves more drinking!

I had to look like an idiot all week growing the beard for the part.

I also just got back from the final day of some site work I have been doing in Canberra. The site was very interesting and without giving away the client name. And they let me take some photos...

Oh and Something Else

Lucy got back from her new job in childcare. She made my dinner and then we noticed that she smelt of baby poo. I didn't finish it.

Something that Annoyed me Today

For a year or so now, the airlines have been claiming victimization over climate change. their usual retort is "people have to fly, there is not a lot we can do to be more efficient". I hear the same thing from transport companies I work with all of the time. I can't be arsed to find the reference, but I am pretty sure that bloke from EasyJet is the guy I read about a lot.

I read this in the paper today which annoyed me significantly. Aparently some of the airline companies have decided that in the wake of high fuel prices, they should fly slower (and thus more efficiently), and that this doesn't affect the timeliness of the flights at all. Which begs the question ... why the bloody hell didn't they do it in the first place? It may be a miniscule saving, but to be honest - its pretty damn easy!

Just goes to show that companies wont do anything unless you hit them in the pocket. 

Trying to be Original

With it looking like we may not be in Australia as long we may have first anticipated, we are on a bit of a mission to do as many things as we can each weekend that we wouldn't be able to do back in the UK. This weekend we did a fair bit of cycling, hitting Manly on Saturday and the Royal National Park today.

The photo above was taken at Shelley beach near Manly. I took about 5 trying to get an artistic shot until Lucy pointed out that the two girls sitting in front of us may find it a little pervy...

Winter In Paradise

When the inhabitants of England talk about Australia, it is as some kind of ever sunny, eternally hot eurphoric paradise inhabited by tanned 'clothing averse' blondes and racist, overweight country folk.

Certainly, during the summer time the sun beats down with a ferocity such as would never be experienced in Europe (something to do with missing Ozone), and the many beautiful white beaches are full of backpackers and locals, sunbathing, BBQing and surfing. Unfortunately during most of this period, I was at work, sitting in an air conditioned office on the 6th floor of a city centre office block at least 10 yards from the nearest window.

And then more recently Summer has turned into Winter (apparently it is the other way round in the Southern Hemisphere in case you were wondering). The days now are shorter than they ever were in England - it gets dark here at around 4.30pm.

I have begun to realise that it was not just the temperature that used to depress me during the ling British winter. It was the shortness of the days and the fact that I never got to see the daylight. I for one would definitely petition to work from around 5pm to 2am and have my days free.

And it is cold here...

Well that is actually as bit of a lie. It's not 'proper' cold here. It doesn't actually get much below 15 (celcius) as far as I can tell.

But the 'Sydneysiders' still wrap up in their hats and scarves and complain about the bitter cold. Their British roots cause them to talk about the weather incessantly. The schoolkids on the bus marvel at the sight of condensation on the bus windows and draw pictures and scrawl their names in the mornings.

And there is a reason why...

Basically most typical houses and units (flats / apartments) in Sydney (or at least every one that I have seen) are very badly designed. They have no insulation (which would help keep you cool in the summer and warm in the winter) and no double glazing.

Heating is generally provided by little electric heaters (of the kind that were pretty much phased out of UK houses for their costliness), there are few gas heating systems (even though east coast gas is relatively cheap here). Or, as in the case of our unit, there is no heating at all, so you are forced to buy multiple little crappy electric heaters. Basically the units that I have seen are pretty much energy efficiency disaster areas.

Added to this Electricity here is generated almost entirely from coal, a fact that contributes to Australia being one of the highest emitters of CO2 (per head) in the world. And the units are freezing!

Learn Some Life Skills

I always understood the need for a school uniform (perhaps more so as an adult than as a kid having to wear one). It’s a leveler of society. It doesn’t matter whether your parents are investment bankers or binmen, you all have to wear the same ridiculous garb. You find ways to customize it. Our’s involved pulling the white thread out of the tie, or wearing it small end out

However, in the more expensive private schools in Sydney (of which there are a few in North Sydney), they take the term ‘ridiculous garb’ to a whole new level! The kids get on my bus dressed in grey trousers, tie and blazer (I think we managed to get rid of our blazers in around 1992 at my school), which they wear neatly and appropriately (which I have never seen a kid do in England). But more than this, they have to wear the most stupid looking horrendous straw hats, complete with stripey black and white bands around the sides. The kind that look they might befit a 1920’s butcher. Complete with the tell tale white Ipod headphones they all have, they may as well have ‘mug me I’m soft’ written across their foreheads.

These kids are like nothing I have known, every morning when I get on the bus, they all line up perfectly ready to alight, and wait for the adults (of which I am apparently one now) to get on first – and they always get up to give you a seat. I just want to grab them by the shoulders and tell them ‘have a bit of a backbone! Rebel a little bit. Get on the bus first. You are wasting your childhood – go out a mug a few pensioners at night’. Well maybe not that last one.

This is a picture

This is a picture of my friends.

More specifically, this is a picture of my friends on a sun kissed beach in Porto (Portugal).

More specifically still, this is a picture of my friends on a sun kissed beach in Porto (Portugal) last week each wearing t-shirts with pictures of my face on them (which were given by Lucy on my UK leaving do).

Today I am homesick.

A Blogging Right of Passage

Something that makes me smile, and seemingly something that all bloggers seem to do at some point - a brief look into the google searches that have brought people to my site (and therefore the searches for which my blog ranks highly on google):

"Rabbit farm technology" obviously after my secret insights into advanced cloning techniques.

"Cheers big ears" for some reason quite a few people have searched for this? I have unfortunately been relegated to 8th on google for this search from my previous third.

"Nice man photos" Nice photos of a man, or photos of a nice man? Should I be concerned?

"Will my boy hurt his babies?" this one is definitely a little worrying.

 "What they say about big ears" always with the big ears!

"Lombok mushrooms" If this person is going to Lombok, they are unlikely to miss the 'special mushrooms'

"Gili Islands ATM" definitely sympathise with this person and can categorically tell them that there is no ATM on the Gili Islands as we found out on our visit last November.

"Lying and stealing at work" maybe expecting a 'how to' guide

"What is a 60 degree angle?" erm...

"Hotel Jam-Jaman" (searched for on Indonesian google). hotel Jam Jaman is Indonesian for pay-by-the-hour hotel if you are interested in knowing what this person was after.

"Rabbit gadgets." 

House Swap

So here it is. Despite Lucy only having been in the country for a month, recently we have been giving some serious consideration to doing a little more travel come this September and essentially swapping this:

 

(the spectacular harbour views of Sydney)

For this:

(the grimy Tinsley cooling towers of Sheffield, looking unusually attractive in this picture):

Madness, you may cry. Thousands of Brits every year flock to the sunny coasts of Australia, and yet more sit in rainy Yorkshire longing for that supposed laid back easy lifestyle.

We have our reasons, both personal and professional as to why we think it may be time to leave in a few months (once we have some cash).

Professionally, Lucy has to get herself a good education job, to get experience for the course she hopes to start in September 09 and it may prove a little difficult over here due to qualification requirements.

For myself the job I have got is far from perfect, and if I was to stay in Sydney, I would certainly move on to another company. I also have a few job offers in the UK.

But our reasons for thinking about leaving extend beyond the merely practical - I also have to admit to struggling with the Australian way of doing things that I have experienced. The emphasis in engineering consulting here seems to be to heavily dominated by generating written outputs. Personally,  I am used to working with people and numbers. Without going into what I do for a living, I like to focus on the development and implementation of projects and struggle somewhat when faced with Australian decision making processes which seem to take so long. Processes which cause me a fair amount of professional frustration.

Whilst appreciating that this may be my own experience only, there are a large number of (both American and European) expats here who constantly bemoan the same thing. 

In terms of Sydney, it is absolutely the most beautiful city I have been to as I have said before. The harbour is amazing and in the summer sunshine, there is nothing better than BBQ's and lounging around at Shelly beach.

Only summer draws to an end here, and the evenings draw short (it gets dark around 4.30pm at the moment). The weather is not cold, but not warm.

When you take away the warm weather and sun from Sydney you are left with very much a hard working business city. Strict licensing laws seem to have led to a lack of independent pubs, bars and cafe's (of the type you may associate with Melbourne). 

Not that I am complaining. I have had some brilliant experiences and to be able to have to opportunity to come here in the first place is a privilege. Nothing is set in stone, but I think we will spend the next few months trying to see as much of Oz as possible before any potential return.

Special Guest Post

Well, I’ve volunteered to take the plunge and enter the world of blogging. Not sure how great I’ll be but I’ll give it a whirl!

I’m Lucy, Sam’s long suffering (!) girlfriend, the brains behind the brawn, the one who has given up the mean streets of Manchester (apologies to anyone from Manchester, maybe that was just my street!) to move out to sunny Sydney. I have been here 3 weeks now.

The big surprise went really well. Sam’s face was a picture! I managed to meet his friends before hand and then I hid out till Sam was in the restaurant. I cannot believe how nervous I was! I was shaking like a leaf when I walked in and was just so overwhelmed when I saw him sitting there, I couldn’t even say anything I just stood at the table and waited for him to look up. He just looked SO shocked and I think it took about 10 seconds for him to register it was actually me standing there in front of him.

I think the whole ‘surprise’ experience brought home to us both how hard these past 8 months have been. Okay, so I haven’t been wallowing but my friends and family will tell you that I certainly haven’t had that sparkle in my eyes and spring in my step. But now we are back together again, and it feels great having my best friend back with me again. (Okay we’re a soppy couple!).

The past 3 weeks I have been looking for a job, which hasn’t been easy at all. I am trying to get work in the education sector as I hope to go on to be an education psychologist and assumed that by having good educational and work experiences I would be able to find work easily. Apparently teaching staff is the one thing they do not need in Sydney, and have a list of 20, 000 qualified teachers all waiting for full time employment. So this makes things a little difficult.

But I can’t complain I’m in Sydney! I’m seeing lots of Australia, I’m back with Sam, I get to read and chill out all day, and the more I put off work, the more Sam has to spoil me and pay my way! So it’s really a win win situation!! And anyway I have been applying for a lot of jobs so something is bound to turn up eventually, hopefully!

Govindas

Time for  random review:

Last night Lucy and I made it to Govindas. A brilliant little place tucked away between the strip clubs and brothels of Kings Cross. The basic premise is that you go there and have a vegetarian buffet, then you go to the floor above and they have loads of sofa/beds and cushions everywhere and you watch a film on the big screen.

The food was really good except for the fact that both Lucy and I have the tendancy to massively overeat when faced with a buffet situation, and all through the film I had to lay in a certain position so as not to puke.

The film was 'Gone Baby Gone', which I would recommend. As much of a fan as I am of Kevin Smith fans and all that. I really think Bed Affleck should quit acting and stick to directing. Though his brother (the lead role) isn't at all bad.

Excellent twists in this one. All in all 3 and a half Rabbit Raisins for the experience (appreciated that everybody outside of Australia probably had this movie about 3 months ago).