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There was plenty of beer.... and there was also this:

Apparently the act was called "Wizard Sleeve" - not that it's important... 

No sense of humour allowed in this workplace

To Blog or not to Blog

So uh, its been a while... I don't really have much to say, that's probably a sign that I need to go out and do something interesting I guess.

Obligatory Superlatives in the South Island of NZ

Leaving behind the bright blue sky to be swallowed by the Bluebridge ferry did little to dampen the spirits because within minutes of leaving the car in the belly of the ship our view from the ship’s bar was clear and we were already one beer in to the trip. Next stop Picton!

The waterfront in Picton was at its usual picturesque best, so with a bellyful of fish ‘n’ chips, shoes and socks were discarded allowing the calm and cool waters of the Marlborough sounds to gently lap around our sweltering feet. Once satisfied, it was onward to Nelson.

Sunny Nelson greeted us with an evening swim and an impressively photogenic sunset while motel owner Mark attempted to bamboozle us with his wheeling dealing accommodation deals. A few beers plus nachos polished off our night.

Under 35+ degree heat we made for Motueka – it was time to test our mettle in the age old Man vs. Gravity challenge! We were going skydiving! As predicted the first 45 seconds from jumping out of the plane Gravity was in complete control, Man had reached terminal velocity and was hurtling to certain death – but then, upon deploying the parachute Man began to fight back – for the next five minutes Gravity did its utmost to upset Man’s descent but it was Man who ultimately won the day suffering nothing more than mild nausea, fist pumps, and obligatory superlatives. Man had landed safely from whence he came. IN YOUR FACE GRAVITY!

Once the superlatives’ had all been spoken we  pushed on and with ice-cream in hand traversed the Motueka Valley Highway, pausing only in Reefton to fetch the Service Station owner off the golf course so we could fill the tanks enough to make it to Greymouth. Our meal at The Hong Kong Restaurant was polished off with a warm tin of Ranfurly Draught. There’s simply nothinglike a cheap meal and a crap beer to make you feel young again!

The following morning the world famous in New Zealand Monteiths brewery reminded us that all that beer is equal, but some beer is more equal than others. A sophisticated look at a brewery allowed us to see how far our beer drinking palettes have come since our Ranfurly Draught drinking student days. 

Fox Glacier was as huge and impressive as ever; and despite a brief dalliance beyond the safety ropes we survived and are still here to tell the tail. Later that afternoon we hit the Haast pass visitor centre where some intensive study on the surrounding rain forest took place, oh, and we saw this sweet Eel too! After some white bait fritters on bread for lunch we swam – or more accurately – got pounded by the waves at Haast beach – once refreshed we made our way towards Wanaka.

In order to break up the drive to Wanaka along the Haast Pass highway, we stopped at a rest area and undertook what was supposed to be a pleasant 30 minute return bush walk – what actually happened was quite different – it was a 20 minute dash through sand-fly territory – particularly perilous was the rope bridge where one simply could not spare a hand to swat away the marauding blood suckers. Still, what doesn’t kill you… 

The backpackers in Wanaka was holding a BBQ for the paltry price of $6 which included a two for one drink deal. Not only was this to our liking, it was just what we needed. A good five or six hours of drinking followed – just enough for us to really feel the effects while kayaking LakeWanaka in the stinking heat the morning after. 

The journey to Dunedin was largely uneventful although several rouge Riders of Rohan were claimed to have been spotted. We ate Thai food, coffee, dessert, and then proceeded to play games of pool before settling down on couches/floors of old friends for the night. The DunedinMuseum live butterfly exhibit occupied most of the next day before we hit Christchurch later in the evening.

Christchurch was a bit disappointing – but what do you expect from a city largely founded by the English, so we ploughed northwards sighting such wonders as the Kaikoura seal colony before setting up camp early evening in Blenheim. In contradiction to our basic camp ground accommodation, an extravagant dinner at an Italian Restaurant was devoured and enjoyed. 

Waking up with sore bodies due to minimal cushioning the night before did not depress us for today was the day of the Marlborough Wine, Food, and Music Festival! Needless to say, much wine was tasted, food eaten and music danced to. Happy times.

But the trip would not go down in history as being complete just yet, oh no, not without a game of Mini-Golf! So before boarding the ferry back to Wellington, nine holes were completed with victors victorious and defeatists defeated.

The End

Interesting Facts about Gardening...

In Cricketing Heaven (Devon)...

As I wearily finished up a week-long and rather complex session on [insert complex insurance concept here], my mind wandered to the coming weekend – the sites, sounds and smells of leather on wood await! 30 minutes to go.

I droned on, my clients struggling to stay conscious as their mind wandered to their own version of the perfect and now rapidly approaching weekend. 15 minutes to go.

As I wrapped up, the obligatory thank yous’ and handshakes were gratefully interrupted by the horn of the waiting taxi.

“Well that’s me, best of luck!”

“Thanks”

“Don’t worry, you won’t need it”

*cordial polite laughs*

The train grumbled out of Bristol parkway station, the aisles brimming with passengers like me unable to find a seat on the overcrowded train. Yet spirits were high, conversations jovial, it was the weekend! It wasn’t just any old weekend; in fact I was on my way to Exeter, to me an unheard of town on the south coast of England for my cricket club’s end of season tour.

Blessed with fantastic weather on the Saturday we trounced an under-strength Axminster Town CC, and in the gloom of the Sunday we bulldozed our way to victory over the hapless Farley CC.

As we downed our celebratory beers in the van back to London, our labours were amplified, and our journey grew epic, we had vanquished our enemies and returned home triumphant.

All photos can be found here:

Yoda

Warszawa!!

I set off in search of a chilled out holiday, I found myself returning to Warwsaw, Poland...

This time I was in a five star hotel and this time I met up with the lovely Basia - she likes beer, this is a good thing.

See the Warsaw photos here:

Read what happened last time I was in Warsaw here:

And see the Warsaw pictures from two years ago here:

I went to Madrid and ate some seafood...

Discovering Stockholm (Syndrome)...

As light snow started to fall I began to doubt the wisdom of Shay’s choice of city for our Easter break. Why couldn’t we go somewhere sunny and warm?

My fears were quickly put to rest the moment we found ourselves tucked up and warm inside everyone’s home away from home, i.e. a bar! Shay, Rony Vamsee, and I had come to Stockholm in search of many things, however what we found consisted of equal measures of beer and eye candy, and this was good enough for me!

What followed was basically a three day booze bender, and as such the memory is a little hazy but I’ll try to outline the highlights which included:

• Seeing Rony (who is the owner of the worlds most dodgy Bangladeshi passport) try to explain to the border control guy that he only wanted to enter Denmark because he was hungry.
• Vamsee spending 40 minutes picking up some Greek women in a museum.
• A visit to a club called the ‘Spy Bar’ where the boys finally got a dose of the hip-hop music they were craving, and Vamsee despite his best effort failed to pick up the young woman manning the blackjack table, though in retrospect he seemed happy enough to just win lots of cash.
• Me losing Rony at the most pivotal moment in the Spy Bar.
• No one and I mean no one, understanding what the hell Rony was saying. ‘Nuf said.
• Using the worlds worst pasta sauce to cook dinner and in the end stealing someone else’s from the fridge in the hostel just to make it edible.
• Rony travelling to Stockholm in winter without a jacket.
• Me farting loudly as an Italian woman walked past in the hostel.
• The next ten minutes wondering why the Italian woman and her friends were looking at us and talking disapprovingly in Italian.
• The numerous jokes at Rony and Shay’s expense at the time it took them to do anything.
• The frequent misunderstanding of Rony, in fact to this day I’m still confused as to what I can get when I mix a fat chick and £2
• Rony’s reaction to being in a gay bar.
• Rony’s reaction to seeing two guys kissing in a gay bar.
• And finally, Rony’s reaction to getting his photo taken with two guys kissing in a gay bar.

Until next time fellow travellers... photos here:

Principat d'Andorra…

Glancing at the time while opening the curtains to a dark and chilly December morning, I smiled, it was 5.30am and it dawned on me that I was finally on Holiday. My smile broadened to its maximum as the plane took off because with every meter gained in altitude a little bit more of the frantic and demanding pace of London was left behind.

And then it was PAIN.

As it turned out I wasn’t exactly as fit as I once was and attempting to take on 7 days of Snowboarding straight was, well downright silly! Come day three, making generous use of what little youth I have left, I was able to handle the jandal as they say, just fine. I’d like to make a shout-out to my close personal friend muscle memory.

Waking every morning to the sound of the icy stream below the hotel window we were met with hangovers, croissants, and crisp clear blue skies – the perfect combination for Snowboarding.

Alas all too soon we trudged back to London our luggage lighter on our backs, and our smiles wider on our faces. The flight of fancy we departed on had landed firmly back on earth.

Photos here:

Life sux... Get over it...

It's been a crap fortnight or so.

1. Lost significant other
2. Complications with ex landlord
3. Chased by muggers in Brixton
4. Seychelles trip cancelled
5. Homeless
6. Fractured a bone

I thought things were supposed to come in threes, not groups of threes...

<*Update*>

7. Found out parents have separated, It just doesn't end...

/<*Update*>

The end of the golden weather?

With cricket season coming to a close my thoughts navigate towards the impending winter and reflect on the summer that never really was. Thanks England, thanks a whole f*ckin lot.

Like all dark tales of tragedy and despair, this summer has but one bright light, one golden glow at the end of the tunnel, indeed one last tiny sparkle. Ladies and Gentleman may I present *drum roll please* The cricket tour to the Seychelles! *insert trumpets here*.

28th September 16.00 hrs GMT: Ben mutters under his breath words to the effect of "So long suckers!" to his beleaguered work colleagues.

28th September 21.05 hrs GMT: Ben scowls in the general direction of London as the plane takes off bound for fairer shores.

29th September 10.15 hrs GMT+4: Exiting the plane, basking in glorious sunshine, Ben sets about developing his taste for the local beer.

The end of the golden weather? No, this is just the beginning.

Ben (1) Diabetes (nil)

After a recent panic caused by a week long insatiable thirst I have decided that I am not in fact diabetic, just extra thirsty. Its probably the overload of air conditioning that I can't live with or without as things finally warm up over here in crazy town.

When I say warm up, I really mean its a bit warmer than it was in the winter. Most days of course I work so its not a problem, however considering my recent successful foray in to a cricket club, the weather has become that incy wincy bit more important, at least on the weekends. As Thursday rolls around I can't help browsing the BBC website for weather predictions for the coming weekend. I don't know why I bother, this is gloomy England after all.

So in search of better cricket playing weather, the bold decision has been made to sucker up to people with money to fund an all expenses paid trip to the Seychelles, for get this... cricket!! In case you don't realise the Seychelles are those little tiny islands somewhere off the coast of east Africa and the national Seychellean cricket team is apparently in need of opposition! I know I'm up for the job, but we'll have to wait and see how it all pans out.

Meanwhile back in the real world, work, office life, the daily grind, another day another dollar etc. etc. Work on the whole is going pretty well, the supply of free soft drinks in the staff fridge never appears to dwindle, there is always enough bar tab for a third pint at Friday drinks, and now there is almost enough people in the company to necessitate birthday cake every day for everyone. Everthing else that doesn't fit in to the soft drinks, beer, and cake category can be neatly summed up by Dilbert cartoons so there really isn't much else to say.

I hope you are all well, please send food parcels I'm desperate for some L&P, 2 minute noodles, and anything Watties.


Cheerio

Island in the Sun: Grenada, the spicy one.

As jealous laser eyes slowly bored holes in the back of my head, the little clock in the bottom right corner of my screen clicked over to 17.30

I stood up, smile beaming "see ya in a few weeks guys". My work mates muted responses were understandable; they weren't the ones leaving the gloomy confines of London, they weren't the ones who in about 20 hours time would be sipping the Caribbeans finest on a beautiful white sandy beach. No, they were the ones that would be getting up at some ungodly hour to commute to work in an overcrowded tube shoved up under some guys smelly arm pit...

Yes, its good to be me.

I arrived in Grenada halted only slightly by immigration to a rousing display of affection from eternal good mates Guy and Tony, a beer later and the sweat and jet lag kicked in.
The cricket was pretty run of the mill to be honest, but Grenada more than made up for that. Try to imagine a morning swim in the ocean followed by the Grenadian fresh fish breakfast, a Carib (beer), and sitting at a bar so close to the water you had sand at your feet.

A memorable afternoon was spent wandering the markets and knocking back a few bottles of Carib and having a good old yarn with Guy and the infamous one (new-found friend Lance). Grenada is a place with the kind of heat that made you thristy, really thirsty, this had the uncommon effect of making each cold beer just as refreshing as the last, needless to say, but we had many refreshing beers that afternoon.

Between swimming, beer drinking, and cricket we found time to have an evening out at a resturant followed by a night out at a club called Fantasia. Tony and I cut up the dance floor as only we can. Around 3am that night, Tony's snoring reached 747 levels and Guy and I decided to have yet another beer on the beach. Waking up hours later I prodded Guy awake, we dusted off the sand and headed back, assuming the spoon formation and slept like babies.

Grenada, you spicy Island you. I will return...

The hot girl from work...

The weather has been rather cold and miserable lately, so it was with a nice surprise that I sat down on the loo at work in the morning, paper in hand, to discover that the seat was pleasantly warm. It was only near the end of my turgid visit that I pondered who it was that took the time to part with their hard earned body heat to increase my comfort? I smiled as I imagined the taut bottom of the hot girl from upstairs...

As I dried my hands meticulously using the fancy yet ecologically unsound paper towels, three things sprung to mind; this is a toilet, and a male toilet at that, AND I passed the office fat-guy on the way in... Watching the mirror curiously, I saw a young man's smile fade...

I hope all is well in Hammersmith...

...said a friend of mine

My life is like playing poker and always getting the "Ace Of Spades". Drinking alcohol, trying to "Stay Clean" in the "Metropolis" that is "The Hammer". Fell off but got back up on the "Iron Horse / Born To Lose". Living in a middle class area but I got "No Class" because I don't wannabe "Overkill". Fortunately "(We Are) The Road Crew" are cool though one is a "Capricorn". Paranoid like everyone about tube suicide "Bomber"[s]. Just wish I could go to the Apollo for "Motorhead (live)"...

Laughing my ass off...

"You know what's getting really tedious? All these time travelers. It seems like two weeks don't go by without some jerk with a time belt and a bad attitude blinking into my living room and trying to zap me into molecules, usually right in the middle of House."

Rest of article here.

It's my country's party and I'll drink if I want to...

In a fantastic return to form, I've started drinking heavily again and the world has become a better place.

So begins the famous Waitangi day circle line pub crawl. It was a mission to end all missions and it would be undertaken by approximately nine thousand cold and home sick expatriate Kiwis, and I was one of them.

I arrived among throngs of silver fern clad Kiwis at Paddington tube station to the sight of the Kiwi, the sound of the Maori strum, the taste and smell of beer, and the feel of fellow Kiwi's up close and personal in the cramped but festive circle line tube. Simply put, All five senses were buzzing.

Due to thebeereffect motor control steadily declined among us all and the "no sitting and no holding on while riding the tube" rule became steadily more fun. Akin to the concept of antipodean dating, i.e excessive beer equals chatting up which in turn equals score; add a moving train to the mix and everyone has ample excuse for the odd tender caress.

The circle line tube, notorious for its unreliability, subsequently shut down. Fortunately yet uncharacteristically for the UK, the weather matched our sunny dispostion. As we merrily wandered along in the sunshine through a rather affluent area of London, the locals looked on confused as to why thousands upon thousands of singing silver fern-clad revellers wandered through their usually quiet streets.



[English accent] "Erm you're all off to a sporting event are ya?"

"uh yeah"

[English accent] "oh who's playing"

"um we all are"

[English accent] "eh?"

Ahh the English, don't they know that a pub crawl IS a sporting event?

As the Big Ben clock struck 4pm the Haka shook the halls of Westminster and the Kiwis dispersed back to their usual hang outs in and around west London.

Quite a day really... here is what I was up to last year and here are some photos.

It's kinda cold over here...

So here is the view from my bedroom window of the light dusting of snow we received...



Also here is some views from inside the house:

Some more photos taken in Jan can be found here: