Thursday, August 31, 2006

On her Majesty's Drunken Service

The mission: To bid farewell to Donovan, he of South African fame, and one of the three other people who share the room with me at the hostel, for he was returning to Johannesburg.
The crew: About 25 people from the Barmy Badger's Backpackers.
The location: The King's Head Tavern.

Being a tuesday night, and, because I'm trying to decrease my tolerance on great liver killing draughts of beer to keep my going, I moderated somewhat, finishing only a few pints. I figured some degree of moderation was required because A) I had work the next day and B) the bar was being set pretty high by everyone else in the hostel. At one point there was a few blokes drinking triple rum and cokes. Captain Morgan's rum at that. Yikes.

But all in all it was a good night. It's probably the only aspect of the hostel I will miss, namely, the social scene. It's a pretty good bunch here, all things considered. One of them, a Canadian geezer named Dan, talked me into trying a Canadian beer that was on tap called Sleeman's Honey Brown Lager. Pretty good stuff. The glass it comes in had to be seen to believed - so I stole it, and smuggled it out in my jacket at the end of the night. I'll include a photo in my end of week round-up.

Anyways, the wash-up of the night was that Donovan got extremely drunk and actually stayed the night at Liz's (the hostel owner) place, due to vomiting profusely and generally being a complete pisswreck. Sounds familiar for some reason. I got home, glass in hand. And one of the residents made a promise, and signed a contract that we drew up on the back of a dinner menu. Namely, that he would shag KFC Liz, a rather unattractive lass with a pot belly, who subsists on the fast food that forms part of her name and occupies the couch in front of the TV on a permanent basis - in exchange for a week's rent. 90 pounds isn't anywhere near enough to stoke that particular fire. For those in the band, think that percussionist who used to wear real foxes for shoes. For those from St Paul's, think Casey Maine. And for those of you not from either of those organisations, think Kim Beazley in drag.

On that mental image, I bid you adieu.

Monday, August 28, 2006

Time to restore some order

Hey diggers,

I am somewhat disappointed with myself, to be perfectly honest.

I promised myself that I would ensure that this blog was updated regularly, and now I find myself writing the first entry in over a week. However, one does need to be realistic. I mean, during the week there's not a lot to write about. There's only so much you can talk about without becoming repetitive. Therefore, in the spirit of compromise, what I have decided to do is this. I shall post a major update each weekend, without fail. This will have in it a summary of everything of interest or note that has happened to me on the weekend, with pictures if possible. For the three of you still out there reading this, what this will mean is that you only need to check on the weekend, rather than be disappointed because the lazy British bound slob hasn't bothered to put fingers to keyboard during the week.

That's not to say that there won't be updates during the week. If something of note happens that simply must be made public, it'll go up.

Anyways, moving right along...

For those of you unaware, this weekend is a long weekend. Bank holiday on the Monday you see. It's exactly the same as a public holiday in Australia except that there's no particular reason for having it. The 28th August was not a day when Britain was discovered, fought it's first major war, the workers parade, the Queen chalks another year up - nothing like that. It's just an excuse for everyone to shut up shop.

With that in mind, I spent Saturday at the pub. Most of the people from work (well, 4 out of the 5 other people I work with) are South Africans or New Zealanders. Hence I came along to the Walkabout Hotel at Temple tube station to watch the All Blacks carve up the Springboks. Not a bad game of rugby, all things considered. The All Blacks certainly put on a good show. It's always tough to beat South Africa at home, particularly playing at the altitude of Pretoria. After that I made my way to a different pub, this one just near Charing Cross, to meet up with some folks from a Warhammer forum I frequent in England. While it wasn't as big as it could have been, due to some cancellations and conflicts, I still managed to catch up with a very affable chap and enjoyed a few pints with him as well.

Sunday was a day of routine stuff - had a look at a house up at Cricklewood, which is in inner north london, near Hampstead Heath. Not a bad place - quite cheap, reasonably close to work. The person who was at home to show me around seemed really friendly as well. There are 2 rooms on offer here so hopefully I'll get one. Will find out early this week. I must say I've grown to enjoy the Badger - once you've been there for a few weeks, the residents stop treating you with the disdain reserved for the "randoms" and start speaking to you. Which is nice. Met some nice people there. I still want my own room though, hence the desire to move out. Plus a house would be cheaper.

Well, I might leave it at that - Monday has dawned grey and rainy, however a brief cessation in the rain means that this is as probably as good a time as any to make a run for it back to the Badger.

Later diggers, and I shall see you anon.

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Adjusting

I think I made some vague promise about photos in my last blog entry. I can't remember. I was intending to head out to Camden Town this weekend and get some photos of the markets, but a combination of inclement weather plus a long list of things to do thwarted that noble aim. I do have some photos, just not many. But hey, better than nothing.

I think I'm finally starting to get into the swing of things here. One of the ladies at work made a comment along the lines of "You don't control what you do London, it controls you." It's a fairly apt description really. This city is so huge, so varied, so busy that you can't possibly hope to organise your whole life, the way you do, in say, Brisbane. Best just to go with the flow. Hence my decision to remain at the hostel until I've settled in and gotten everything organised in terms of bank accounts etc. Speaking of which, I managed to get that sorted out on Friday, so I will have an account by Tuesday, and a card by next Friday. Score. I also managed to get myself a UK mobile simcard, so, for those few of you who feel the urge to ring my Australian number (as Rowdy did at 3:20am) don't bother, since the simcard is currently sitting inside my passport, gathering dust.

One of the things I have adapted to surprisingly well is the absence of a car. I mean, you drive pretty much everywhere in Australia, whereas here in London a lot of people don't even own one. I don't know how crash hot I will be when I finally get back behind the wheel of a car (with emphasis on the crash) but we shall see. Undoubtedly part of the reason I'm so comfortable without one is the fact that every day I walk to Earl's Court station, and every day I am considerably faster to the station than the cars crawling along on the road beside me. That's the rationale I use whenever I walk past an Aston, or a Ferrari, stuck in gridlock. "Well, he may be able to do 0-100 in 3 seconds, but I bet he can't remember the last time he was able to."

I don't want to get all philosophical, but I believe that this is all part of adapting to London life. Understanding, and accepting that it is a very different place to anywhere else you've ever been. You need to accept that you're a tiny little speck of meat in the gigantic melting pot that is London, and while you're here, you need to play the game. Certainly since I've started work, and gotten into a routine of sorts, I've come to think of myself as a resident, and not so much a tourist. I've started to feel like I really belong here.

I have a job I enjoy, money to my name, a place to stay - what else could I need?

Well, a great many things, but that's besides the point.

Moving right along....


The brown building looming up in the centre of shot is Harrods. Actually, looking at this photo now, I don't like it. I'll get another one at some point. Promise. But anyway, it's Harrods, there's only one and everything is insanely priced.

Actually, I'll get a night-time shot of it. The evening lighting is pretty cool.


My desk at work. It's certainly nicer than the rabbit warren set up they had at AAMI.

And that's it. Yes. Piss poor I know.

Anyways, have a good one.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Note to self: Be more upbeat

It's what the readers want, after all. Besides, if I start being a misery guts this early in the piece, I'm going to be the most appalling whinging pom imaginable when it comes time to return to the land girt by sea.

So. Cheerful.

Well, it was good to get some emails from the band. I'd sent a few to David, but he never replied (probably still working out how to turn his computer one) - I enjoy hearing from home, since it's a good reminder people haven't forgotten you. Yet. For the record, the all conquering Brisbane Municipal Concert Band came second in the Brisbane auditions. For those of you unaware, that's pretty damn good. I think it's a sign that they do better when I'm not at auditions. At least, that'll be my excuse next year when I fail to show due to extreme overconsumption of amber fluid the night before.

I also got an email from my bank. I hate being a bastard to people in the same game as me, but sometimes you just need to throw your weight around and be abrupt to get things done. Bottom line, the statement I so desperately need should be here in the next 4-5 days. With any luck I'll be all set up to be paid at the end of the month, and can actually start living, as opposed to existing.

I'm in a bit of a quandary about what to do for sport while over here. I've plans to try and join an indoor cricket team, but in terms of supporting a side, it's a bit difficult. Since my beloved Wests Tigers aren't in the finals this year and the Lions are languishing near the bottom of the AFL ladder, it leaves a 3 month black hole before the Ashes start.

I've definitely got to go to a soccer (yes, soccer, not football, I'm not that pommy yet) game while I'm over here. Apparently a lot of Aussies go watch West Ham games. I can't say I've ever had the same enthusiasm for soccer as I have for league. Maybe if Chirpy comes over in December he can take me to a hurling game. Now that would be worth a watch.

In other news I've decided to stay at the hostel I'm at for the duration, or at least until I get this bank account sorted out. I think it's best to wait until I've been paid and have a sizeable stash of lovely, lovely £ sterling before I go shelling out for bond and monthly rent etc. Mind you, the hostel isn't too bad, really. I know I panned it something shocking earlier in the piece, but it's grown on me.

Like a piece of mould on stale cheese.

Well, yet again another hodge podge of events in my UK life comes to a close. I always find it hard to write about stuff after work and on a weekday. This weekend I promise photos.

Monday, August 14, 2006

I hate red tape

It is said that the English are masters of queueing. No matter what the service, or the line-up involved, you will find Poms patiently waiting in line to access it. It's an endearing national trait, and a visible demonstration of their unerring patience.

Not so endearing is their ability to fuck you around mindlessly, in blind obedience to bureaucratic red tape, as opposed to anything approaching common sense. I'm referring to my struggle to obtain a British bank account. In retrospect, I should have done what I did today, and sign up with an agency called 1stContact, that do a lot of this for you. Unfortunately, now that I'm working full-time I can't make a meeting until Saturday 2nd September. So, another 3-4 weeks or so of frugality awaits - harboring my money against the vicious exchange rate until I get paid in pounds. Still, on the bright side - by the time I actually get paid, which can't happen till I get a bank account, it's going to be a doozy.

At this stage I'm not doing much outside of work - I'm content to remain at the backpacker's I'm at for the time being, and hopefully get a house in the next week or two. The job has been interesting - certainly different, and yet similar to what I was doing previously.

What else is news?

Well, the Premier League kicked off this week, with Liverpool dumping Chelsea 2-1 in the opening match. This prompted Jose Morinho, Chelsea Manager, and perhaps the most miserable bastard ever to grace England (which is saying a LOT, from the country that produced Ozzy Osborne) to slag off Liverpool's stamina for a long season. It's finally started resembling what I thought of as British weather over here - rain and cold, grey skies. It's actually been quite pleasant. I don't mind the cold, although no doubt I'll be eating my words come December. The airports over here are still an absolute shambles, flights being cancelled left right and centre. The rate they're going, soon they'll be worrying about letting anyone at all on the plane. Perhaps a giant catapult in Cornwall, and a large landing pad on Long Island will be the way travel is done in the future. It'd probably be safer, judging from recent events.

God I'm talking bollocks.

So yeah, on the whole it's been a mixed bag here in England - happy to be here, but a bit stressed, caused by unnecessary fretting that could've been sorted if I'd realised in advance what a bastard it was to try and obtain a bank account here.

Oh yeah, and the Wests Tigers missed out on the finals. That pissed me off. Big time.

Ah well...there's always next season. At least I'll be there to watch it.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Still Alive and Kicking

Well, for the few of you out there with a genuine concern for my welfare, I can assure you that there is no danger to the good people of London.

Apparently a bunch of terrorists planned to blow up America bound planes with bombs smuggled onto the planes in hand luggage. Although the plot seems to have been foiled, all the London airports are at an absolute standstill. Heathrow, Gatwick, Stansted, Luton are all in a state of chaos, people crammed everywhere. The old bill has been crawling all through the tube and buses. All in all, a most interesting day. Yours truly has been completely unaffected, although one of the girls in the office has been somewhat stressed, given she was supposed to be flying to Barcelona tonight, and she doesn't know whether her flight will leave tonight, if at all.

The glamour of international jetsetting has all but worn off I fear.

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Tales from the workplace

Well, I'm back from my second day of "work" - more on the quotation marks in a minute - so I thought I'd elaborate on what is going to be, frankly, the mainstay of the remainder of my time in England.

At the moment, it's an absolute doddle to get to work. A quick stroll down Earl's Court road, hop onto the Piccadilly Line tube, travel three stops (Gloucester Road, South Kensington, Knightsbridge) before hopping out at the latter. Knightsbridge, as no doubt some of you are aware, is the home of Harrods, the most plush, expensive and famous department store in the world. And I mean expensive. Holy shit. I've had a brief wander through there and some of the prices are astronomical. You can buy a cup of a coffee for, once you factor in the exchange rates, a price that wouldn't leave you much change at all from a 20 dollar bill. But of course that's for the peasants. I saw a sterling silver dinner setting for a touch over £14000. That's close to $40000. I'd love to buy something like that and then use the fork to eat 2 minute noodles. It'd be like James Packer driving to work in my shitty Corolla.

But yeah. Back on topic. My work is in Brompton Road, which is the same street as Harrods. Indeed, it's but a mere hundred metres from Harrods. Not a bad view all things considered. I won't go into any great detail about work, since you never know who reads this stuff, but since it's all favourable anyway I don't think it will be a problem. I mentioned "work" before. Well, on the morning I arrived they had a server crash and everything died. No-one could access Outlook or the database program that they use. So basically I've spent 2 days reading the insurance policy a few times, helping out with general filing and doing office dogsbody stuff. Since the whole business is basically conducted online, it's kind of brought things to a standstill. On the other hand, it has given me a chance to get to know everyone which is a good thing. It should be all systems go tomorrow, so I'm expecting a busy day - not the worst thing in the world, since it's kinda boring and makes you feel a bit guilty idling round the place with nothing to do.

I am looking forward to the job though. To a large extent it's self-regulated - you have work you're required to do, deadlines you need to meet and it's up to you how you go about them. Compared to the way things worked at AAMI, where everything was overseen and corporatised, it'll be brilliant. I really think I can make a decent fist of things here, so in that respect I've fallen on my feet.

Now I just need to find a decent sharehouse. Had a look at a few so far, still waiting to hear back from one which if I get, would be great. Saw one the other day but my Michelle/Alison senses started tingling when I met one of the girls who lived there - a right psycho if ever I saw one. Don't think I'll take that one. (Michelle & Alison, for those of you reading who are unaware, were 2 nutters that plagued my existence in various sharehouses back in Brisbane.) But, as in all things, I am quietly confident.

I'll take my camera along to work sometime this week and get some photos of the surrounding area so you can see what I've been rabbiting on about.

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Speaking of England needing a good war...

Being a student of history, particularly that of a military nature, it was only natural that I would find myself drawn, inevitably, along the District and Bakerloo tube lines to Lambeth North Station and the Imperial War Museum located nearby. Purportedly one of the greatest museums in the world for those who enjoy spending a day gazing at armaments and whatnot, on initial inspection it didn't disappoint. Upon entering through the large gates, one is greeted by the sight of 2 enormous 15 inch naval guns, taken from the battleships HMS Ramillies and HMS Resolution, which served in both World Wars.

However, once you get inside, it was a little disappointing. Only a little, mind you, but still. For one thing, it's far too small. A country with a military history as lengthy and distinguished deserves far more than what's on offer. For starters, only the military history from World War One onwards is covered. Now, for a country that has a record of military events stretching back to the Dark Ages and Alfred the Great, to start 1000 years on from that seems a little presumptuous. What they have on World Wars One and Two is excellent of course, but I was expecting a bit more. However, they also cover a lot of other areas that were very interesting, such as the Cold War, Espionage, the Holocaust and the ongoing nature of warfare in the 21st Century. There's some excellent exhibits and footage relating to MI5, MI6 and the SAS. Any terrorist who watched the video I saw, of the SAS storming the Iranian embassy in London in 1980 would definitely think twice about committing an act of terrorism within range of their long arm.

For a museum that professes itself to be British, there was a surprising amount of Nazi paraphenalia as well. I assume they want to show it off, as a sort of war trophies, but I saw at least 10 Swastikas floating around the place, and not one Union Jack. Which seems kind of odd. Maybe they do it to piss off the German tourists. Anyways, that aside, it was very enjoyable and well worth going to for an afternoon. Of course, we also have pictures.


This is the front of the building. Note the aforementioned battleship armament sited out the front.


We'll start with the British stuff first - this is a Matilda Battle Tank. This was designed in the 1930's, when the tank was still conceived by military tacticians as a vehicle intended to support the infantry, rather than a decisive instrument of war in its own right. Although the theories of blitzkrieg made it somewhat obsolete, it provided excellent service in the North African campaign until 1942, when it was withdrawn from frontline service.


Another desert vehicle, this one being a Daimler Armoured Car, belonging to the famed 7th Armoured Division, the Desert Rats (note the badge depicting the rat).


This imposing looking brute is a Churchill Battle Tank, the mainstay of the British armed forces from 1944 onwards. Unlike the Sherman, this had sufficient armour to repel the standard German 75mm round that the bulk of their Panzers were equipped with, although it was never proof against the dreaded 88mm anti-tank round. It proved an extremely versatile vehicle, with some variations including "Crocodiles" - equipped with flamethrowers, as well as "Flail Tanks" - equipped with a number of revolving chains on a metal bar some metres in front of the tank, designed to clear minefields.


This 1000cc motorcycle was made in 1935, and would be completely unknown except for the fact that T.E Lawrence, better known as "Lawrence of Arabia" was riding it when he had the accident that killed him. The bike only suffered minor damage and was repaired before eventually ending up in the museum.


Anyone who has ever heard of the British field marshal Sir Bernard Law Montgomery - "Monty" - will know of his penchant for always wearing a beret with 2 badges. This is it. They actually had a whole section of the museum dedicated to Montgomery, "Master of Battle", which was very interesting indeed.


Moving on from the British side of things, we come to Russkies - this is the famous T34, the legendary Russian tank that was the mainstay of the Russian army during World War 2. It was so good that the Germans based their Panther Tank on it's design - although they never admitted doing so.


Standard Irish propaganda. Found this in the section relating to the various actions fought in Northern Ireland over the years. I love the dedication shown in persisting with a centuries old argument.


I'm sure we all know what this is.

Now, for some of the German stuff - and there was a lot of it too! Some of it pretty high quality stuff. This was one of the original printed copies of Mein Kampf, dating from the 1920's - the wooden box designed to hold the book was presented to Reinhard Heydrich, one of Himmler's chief subordinates on his birthday from Hitler himself.


Various Nazi uniforms on display. You have to give them one thing - they knew how to make themselves look like a scary bunch of bastards.


A famous painting of Hitler, with one of Goering's summer unifroms in front of it.


The infamous "88" - the 8.8mm Anti-Aircraft gun. Originally designed as an AA Gun, the Germans soon realised it was equally effective when used as an Anti-Tank weapon. The gun found itself employed as the example shown, an anti-aircraft weapon, as well as a towed anti-tank gun, and was also mounted on various Tiger tanks as the primary weapon.


This is an example of one here. This fearsome looking beast is a JagdPanther - based on the chassis of the Panther tank, but packing heavier armour, and equipped with the 88mm gun, as opposed to the standard Panther which had the 75mm gun. This was an anti-tank vehicle through and through - there are many stories of these tanks knocking out several Allied tanks for no loss. Generally the Allies would either attack them using 3 tanks and expect to lose 2, or destroy them from the air with rocket firing RAF Typhoons.

And finally, just so you have an idea of where I'm living at the moment...


This is our street. The backpacker's we're staying is just past the big tree on the left.