Another day of rain so torrential that to sit down and write a lengthly spiel about my travels seems like the only sensible pastime. You asked for it..
So; Austrailia..
(I'm aware that I havnt finished/hardly started 'New Zealand' yet but thats all written down and unlikely to be knocked out of my head by the recent coffee habit.. )
Austrailia..

We arrived into Melbourne. I had mildly embarrassed myself on the plane by announcing that I was going to buy myself a hat complete with corks regardless (snorts from other passengers) and

exclaiming 'put another shrimp on the barbie!' at anyone who looked my way. Then the stewardess handed me an immigration for to fill in and that wiped the smile right off my face. I

ticked 3 of the declarations boxes; been near farmyard animals in the last 3 months, carrying drugs or prescriptions (PRESCRIPTIONS) and likely to have any soil on my shoes (check). Our

accident prone companion on the Inca Trail from lovely Norway had had the misfortune to import a bananna she had in her rucksack into Austrailia and was fined 1,000 dollars for it. Not

making that mistake, so ANYTHING foodstuff shaped came out; tic tacs, chewing gum, mints (yes I carry a lot of appetite suppressants..). And this is the 'doh!' part; not only did the first

security person I explained the mint disposal rush to chuckle at me (chuckle!!), the customs person didnt ask me ANYTHING about my contact with horses or my soily shoes - no opportunity

whatsoever to sell my story to the tabloids!! And they werent interested in my prescription antibiotics even though I am carrying a selection for every possible ailment, enough to start an

impromtu travel clinic. CONCLUSION: AUSTRAILIAN CUSTOMS ARE SCARE-MONGERS AND NO FUN AT ALL.

A Aussie chap had assured me as I left the plane 'once youve been to Austrailaia, you won't ever want to leave'. I thought 'yeah right, bruce'..

We get into Melbourne under a bank of cloud (of course - I always pack the bad weather in my hand luggage) much to our disgust. Our friend who we'd we staying with had reported highs of 40

right up to the day before when the temp. had dropped to 24. Great. We got to Rimmer's flat (Claire Rimmer, our manager at Millwall Venus, before she emigrated anyway) in St Kilda which

was lovely and then went for a walk around the area. NICE BARS in St Kilda, very nice, akin to London I'd say and all down the one road which makes things convenient. We had a beer in the

nearest thing Rimms had found to a local and she explained how one side of the pub was for gay people and one side for straight, how funny! We walked down to the seafront and along to

Acland street to look at the (OH GOD I just want to die of a heart attack, it'll be a happy ending, let me go) famous cake shops. We are talking floor to ceiling pretty little rasberry

filled and chocolate topped bundles of cholestrol.. Anyway I am a tower of self-discipline so had another PURE BLONDE LOW CARB beer instead.

We wake up and its a bright new day in Melbounre. Rimmer is at work so Beth and I go down to the beach. Its a little bit breeezy so after doing the British - its cold but Im lying here

anyway dammit - bit for a while we head back to Acland street for Falafal King. Excellent falafal. Truly truly excellent. Left there and walked straight into Trampoline, one of the lux

gelato stores and had basically the best ice cream the world has ever ever created. Crushed pear and caramel sorbet. Walked a bit further along the coastal road and then decided it was

time for a lie down and yes this park bench looks ideal and then - hey holy hell - how long have I been lying here?!!? Sugar will do that to you. Be careful. I think it was about 2

hours, for the record. The mums in the park were looking at me stangely..

Rimms text us to say free beer if we were willing to pretend to belong to the gay community and attend some kind of award ceremony thing. Which we did (free beer!). Unfortunately we were

not convincing gays and rimmer grumbled throughout that we stuck out like sore thumbs (hope theres no connotations to that). For example I was ABSOLUTELY MORTIFIED to be hit on by a drag

queen. (Is that a compliment? I dont know.) It was my own fault for saying I liked his makeup I suppose but it was good makeup!! We did a bit of posing with bottles of Pure Blonde as

the company was sponsoring the event. So we're probably on the internet now with explicit captions. Thatll be nice..

Food was good at this place actually. Good sushi. I didnt like to mention that earlier in case it sounded bad in the context.

Then, later on, back of the flat, there was a little bit of an episode. Rimmers housemate Simon who Im sure wont mind being described as an UTTER MORON came home off his face and ramped up

his stereo to nightclub proportions. So we endured this for maybe an hour, listening to him switch to increasingly dire tracks (yellow submarine anyone?). Then we gave up and went into

Rimmers room. Endured snoring on an EPIC scale for about half an hour and then returned to the living room. By this stage our ear drums and Beths spirit were broken so she went and

hollered at Simon to turn it down. No response. She goes up there to find that hes asleep - also snoring like a tractor. Beth clears down all the porn from the screen of his apple mac

and mutes the music. Aahhh - sweet relief. This is 6am.

Next morning the music starts AGAIN :) Simon has no recollection of the night before (shouldve just stabbed him). I put my hoodie on over my PJs and Beth and I leave the flat in disgust.

In the internet cafe Beth persuades me to contact a London ex whos from Melbourne, which I do, and we meet up for some lovely wine that very night. What did we do that day - before I get

ahead of myself..? Beth and I sunbathed, ate gelato and hated Simon.. So yes, very nice wine, picked up in a very nice car, all worked out very nicely. So this is Cameron who I dated in

06 (to coin the aussie way of timelining stuff) who had had, I qUote 'the worst year of his life' in London that year (something I said?) and returned to Melboune on doctors orders to GET

SOME SUNSHINE. See London weather is marginally easier for Brits to deal with because we don't know any better. Now that I do it would be a hard thing to return to..

Cameron invited all of us out for drinks that night, mass panic ensuing because ARGH NOTHING TO WEAR. And OF COURSE being Good Friday pretty much every shop was closed. We went to the CBD

and then to Brunswick Street which was very North London in terms of fashion. Maybe like 4 shops were open and we found something normal (I hope) and more importantly cheap in the very

last one. Well done to Rimmer who was endlessly patient and only retired to the pub boyfriend style at the very last minute. :)