Twenty hours on a plane and I was back in Perth to the news that my 19 year old niece is 8 months pregnant. So, after I received that surprise, I made my way to the Como hotel where Alice and I had cooked up a little surprise of our own for Sara. As far as Sara knew she was just going out to dinner with all her friends for a casual chat on a Thursday night, possibly she was excited about my return in two days time, but not nearly as speechless as she was when I walked up behind her and proudly exclaimed “Did anyone order a jar of awesome?” In hindsight, my off the cuff decision of what to say when I walked in could have been less crap more rock, but jar of awesome it was…
Sara took a while to understand what was going on, and then all she could say was “Why are you here?” over and over again. It was great to see the whole gang again, and Sara’s reaction made all of Alice and my scheming well worthwhile.
Over the next two weeks in Perth I soaked up all that I remembered it to be. Sunny days, nice beaches, filled with my closest friends and utterly, utterly boring. I was lucky that my time there was so full of engagements with people, so I didn’t have too much time to wallow in the deafening banality that is Perth. With Ben and Ange’s wedding the first weekend, Trents bucks night the second weekend (at which, in a crowd of over twenty people, I was the only single guy. Oh how the times have changed.) The two weeks in Perth culminated with Trent and Tess’s fantastic wedding down south. All in all I really enjoyed my time in Perth, catching up with everyone was great, but as much as I knew it would happen, everyone has moved on with their lives, and I am no longer a part of it. Just as Perth is no longer a part of me.
After Perth it was the dreaded redeye flight to Melbourne before sleeping on a metal bench in the airport while I waited for Mick to pick me up and drive me back to Finley. Wow. Finley. Four days in Finley. That’s more time than I’ve spent in Finley in the last four years put together, and it felt like it too. It’s like a smaller, duller version of Perth but with a huge concentration of people whom I love. It was fantastic to see Cass and Azz and their children, who are all absolutely gorgeous. Although, just the sight of them as parents does make me feel exceptionally old. I used to say “You know you’re old when your ex-girlfriends are having kids”, well now I can say that I am old because my Nieces and Nephews have kids! Finley is definitely a place I look forward to visiting more regularly when I am back in Melbourne, but by the end of the four days, the pace of the town was beginning to do my head in. I think a weekend every month will be more than enough time there when I eventually move back to Melbourne.
Ah Melbourne. The greatest city in Australia and one of my top five favourite cities in the world. The city that all my others are measured by, as I have realized in my travels that if a city reminds me of Melbourne, there’s a good chance I’m going to love it. Again there was more catching up with people, both old friends from Perth who have seen the light and moved over, or friends I met travelling the world. I was lucky enough to spend lots of time with Nate and Sarah, and really remembered how much I missed those guys. There is definitely a part of me that will not be broken hearted if the travelling doesn’t continue forever and I moves back to Melbourne in the not too distant future. I got to see a few games of footy, including an absolute debacle of a game where Hawthorn got up over Richmond by 3 measly points, and also got to walk around the city where all the events of my book take place and took a lot of inspiration from the city. I look forward to ripping out some more chapters soon.
My flight out of Melbourne was a 24 hour nightmare via Abu Dhabi. It seemed like I was sat in the infant section as a different baby went off like an alarm every 15-20 minutes, but after that little taste of fatherhood hell I was happy to be in London and very happy to be childless. My time in London is a little bit of a waste of time, and in hindsight I should have gone direct to New York, but I was able to spend in London to relax and chillout before what I expect will be the tantalizing unstoppable madness of New York. Excuse me, I have a plane to catch.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
The Long Road Home
I left Berlin early on a Saturday morning and made my way to Munich, where Dimma and I were picked up by Kingy, the Driver who is doing the job I would have done at Alpen Rider this winter if I’d have done what I originally planned. Dimma and I were already drunk by the time Kingy got there and we proceeded to get more drunk as the trip went on. Upon arrival in Kirchberg we left our stuff in our room, went downstairs to the bar and continued on that same path. Drinking in the Alpen Rider bar is always a dangerous activity as Shevy (the man in charge) loves to dole out free shots of Jagermeister to everyone in the bar at regular intervals. By 10pm we were both trashed and decided to head into the bigger town of Kitzbuhel (about 6kms away) to go to the Londoner, the largest pub in the area. At the Londoner we continued to get more trashed and ended up back at the chalet at around 4am. We got up and snowboarded the next day, but this set the precedent for the whole trip, and an eight day bender was started.
The snow itself was pretty slushy for most of the week we were there, however the sixth day was epic, and definitely the best day of snowboarding I had ever had. The problems for the five days before this day varied from getting out on the snow early when it had just been groomed to find it icy and hard, or getting out on the snow late to find it slushy and full of moguls as it had been carved up for four hours before we got there. Also, a standard for the whole week was feeling like crap due to being hungover, sick and not having had enough sleep the night before.
On the fourth day, we could see that the snow was going to come in, as we were boarding in nearly a complete whiteout on the Kitzbuheler horn. We came back to our side of the mountain to make our way slowly home when Dimma realized that he had lost his pass and wouldn’t be able to use the lifts. I did one run by myself but with the zero visibility it was incredibly slow and not the most fun in the world.
That evening we had every intention of going to bed reasonably early to get out on the snow for some fresh powder, but like most nights we went out for a few beers, and Bo and Beth at the boomerang kept us plied with alcohol all night, leading to another night that ended around 3am and another morning where my desire for snowboarding was waging a war with my desire for sleep. Of course, with half a foot of fresh powder on the slopes, my desire for snow won out and after many insults to his manhood, Dimma got out of bed also. We went up to the horn again and found a run with an off piste drop off into a fairly unused red run on the back side of the horn, and we stuck with it pretty much all day. It was the first time I had boarded on powder since I’ve had the skills to do anything, and it was a totally amazing experience. It’s all just so much easier than scraping through the icy bumps, scared shitless that you might catch and edge and end up on your head. Through powder it’s easy and it doesn’t hurt if you do happen to stack it, and it’s just so silent as you carve through the white mist. The only thing I could hear over the whoosh of my board was my own joyous laughter.
At the end of the week in Kitzbuhel, we gone out every night on the turps, averaged about 4 hours slept a night, got up every day and boarded, progressed to both being comfortable on blacks and a bit of off piste stuff and were both incredibly sick. All in all, an absolutely sensational week.
After finally getting back to Dimmas flat in Clapham, we parked on the couch, watched movies, ate pizza and lamented our sore heads and swollen throats. The next day I had to make my way out Blackheath, to stay with Roz, a friend of Scottie’s who I had met while snowboarding in Meribel. I sent her an sms to make sure she’d be home at around 4pm when I was planning on coming over, and was horrified to find out that she had changed her mind and said that it was no longer convenient for me to stay there. Of course, I immediately started to complain about women and the fickle nature of their promises. I then sms’d Scottie to let him know, and then he also wondered what the hell was going on, as it had all been organized weeks in advance. After Scottie talked to Roz we were speaking on Facebook when he said that they didn’t know what I was talking about, and upon closer inspection of the Roz I had sent the message to, I realized that I had sent the message to a Roz I had hooked up with many months before while travelling and hadn’t really spoken to since. No wonder she didn’t think it would be convenient for me to stay there.
So, after moving my stuff over to Roz’s place in Blackheath I spent the next week in London catching up with people I had met travelling, including Ash and her friend for a game of bogan bingo in Clapham that ended with all of us being covered in texta thanks to a Bingo Blotter fight throughout the entire game. And a day out in London with Holly talking about all things musical and creative and how the lead singer of one of her many bands is not particularly talented, before heading into Camden to see Loud Howards awesome new lineup ruined by Dimma’s still wrecked throat, one week after our return from Austria.
My time in London was soon up though and the long flight home beckoned. I was excited to see everyone again and although the timing was pretty awful with the Guiding job back in Berlin, I had a sneaking suspicion that I might be ready to fall in love with Australia all over again.
The snow itself was pretty slushy for most of the week we were there, however the sixth day was epic, and definitely the best day of snowboarding I had ever had. The problems for the five days before this day varied from getting out on the snow early when it had just been groomed to find it icy and hard, or getting out on the snow late to find it slushy and full of moguls as it had been carved up for four hours before we got there. Also, a standard for the whole week was feeling like crap due to being hungover, sick and not having had enough sleep the night before.
On the fourth day, we could see that the snow was going to come in, as we were boarding in nearly a complete whiteout on the Kitzbuheler horn. We came back to our side of the mountain to make our way slowly home when Dimma realized that he had lost his pass and wouldn’t be able to use the lifts. I did one run by myself but with the zero visibility it was incredibly slow and not the most fun in the world.
That evening we had every intention of going to bed reasonably early to get out on the snow for some fresh powder, but like most nights we went out for a few beers, and Bo and Beth at the boomerang kept us plied with alcohol all night, leading to another night that ended around 3am and another morning where my desire for snowboarding was waging a war with my desire for sleep. Of course, with half a foot of fresh powder on the slopes, my desire for snow won out and after many insults to his manhood, Dimma got out of bed also. We went up to the horn again and found a run with an off piste drop off into a fairly unused red run on the back side of the horn, and we stuck with it pretty much all day. It was the first time I had boarded on powder since I’ve had the skills to do anything, and it was a totally amazing experience. It’s all just so much easier than scraping through the icy bumps, scared shitless that you might catch and edge and end up on your head. Through powder it’s easy and it doesn’t hurt if you do happen to stack it, and it’s just so silent as you carve through the white mist. The only thing I could hear over the whoosh of my board was my own joyous laughter.
At the end of the week in Kitzbuhel, we gone out every night on the turps, averaged about 4 hours slept a night, got up every day and boarded, progressed to both being comfortable on blacks and a bit of off piste stuff and were both incredibly sick. All in all, an absolutely sensational week.
After finally getting back to Dimmas flat in Clapham, we parked on the couch, watched movies, ate pizza and lamented our sore heads and swollen throats. The next day I had to make my way out Blackheath, to stay with Roz, a friend of Scottie’s who I had met while snowboarding in Meribel. I sent her an sms to make sure she’d be home at around 4pm when I was planning on coming over, and was horrified to find out that she had changed her mind and said that it was no longer convenient for me to stay there. Of course, I immediately started to complain about women and the fickle nature of their promises. I then sms’d Scottie to let him know, and then he also wondered what the hell was going on, as it had all been organized weeks in advance. After Scottie talked to Roz we were speaking on Facebook when he said that they didn’t know what I was talking about, and upon closer inspection of the Roz I had sent the message to, I realized that I had sent the message to a Roz I had hooked up with many months before while travelling and hadn’t really spoken to since. No wonder she didn’t think it would be convenient for me to stay there.
So, after moving my stuff over to Roz’s place in Blackheath I spent the next week in London catching up with people I had met travelling, including Ash and her friend for a game of bogan bingo in Clapham that ended with all of us being covered in texta thanks to a Bingo Blotter fight throughout the entire game. And a day out in London with Holly talking about all things musical and creative and how the lead singer of one of her many bands is not particularly talented, before heading into Camden to see Loud Howards awesome new lineup ruined by Dimma’s still wrecked throat, one week after our return from Austria.
My time in London was soon up though and the long flight home beckoned. I was excited to see everyone again and although the timing was pretty awful with the Guiding job back in Berlin, I had a sneaking suspicion that I might be ready to fall in love with Australia all over again.
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