August!

My last blog was a couple of weeks ago and hence I've fallen foul of my promise to blog 'at least every Monday'. In truth I've been lazier than that as despite the last post being on 14 August we're only really up to date as of 8 August. With a fun-packed couple of weeks ahead it's only polite to bring this up to date!

The first, and comfortably most exciting, thing that happened was the Fantasy League Auction. For those unawares it's the night when we pick out Fantasy Football team for the season but instead of everyone filling out a team sheet full of Ronaldos and JTs we have a budget and the fifteen of us go to the pub and bid for the players we want. This leaves us with completely unique teams made up of 225 players from every team in the Premier League - therefore every match played has meaning and the season is soooo much more interesting. The only downside is that should you make a few rash decision on auction night you will have a thoroughly miserable nine months ahead - I'm truly speaking from experience here having finished bottom in our league last season. My team's not so bad this year and with a few shrewd buys during the season I could be there or thereabouts. If you are at all interested in following our fortunes, our league table can be found here. I've also popped a link in the links panel on the left. If I start doing badly I'll remove it.

The weekend saw the return to one of my favourite places on God's green Earth - Crazy Wendy's. We had a large gathering with myself, Pezza, Stuoobs, Cazzie, Easty, The Reeces, the Varrettos and Wor Phil & Jayne (who were down for the Newcastle game - the rest of the North East followed the day after). The place is actually called the Thai E-Sarn and it's a Thai restaurant in posh, leafy West Didsbury. The decor's shabby, the food's crap, the wine is barely drinkable and yet it's rammed every weekend without fail. In order to get a table you need to book a week in advance and give a £5 per head deposit. The reason is that at 10.00pm they clear away the plates, make sure you've plenty of booze and then Wendy comes out.

Wendy isn't a Thai ladyboy. She's the 'Shirley Bassey Dressing Elvis Singer'. Within ten minutes the whole place is up on the chairs and grabbing the microphone to help Wendy along. It's a phenomenal place but the hangover the next day is a bit tough.


The Crazy Wendy night was a very special night as Tim & Ollie were formally welcomed as members of BOTT. Well done to both of you, you will be great additions to the team.



The Saturday was spent in and around Manchester with The Men of the family trying to find a bar that we could watch the Sunderland v Scousers game that wouldn't mind letting Deano in. Unfortunately the bars were having none of it, something to do with requests from the police, so we headed back to our flat via the Gin Shop. Later in the evening we planned to ditch the oldies in the hotel and the middle generation of the family would get up to some mischief in Manchester. Unfortunately the Manchester weather kyboshed that idea and the girls didn't want to leave the hotel.

This turned out to be the best news ever. We were at the bar and could hear music, dancing and joyful clinking of glasses from beyond the double doors. A quick peek was enough to see that it was a wedding. Jackpot!

So, there we were, partying at "Garry & Donna's" wedding (I love balloons with names on). We must have looked a little out of place as we were the only ones there not in suits but we held our heads high and did what we do at weddings:

Rule #6 - Do not sit in the corner and sulk. It draws attention in a negative way. Draw attention to yourself, but on your own terms.
Rule #7 - Blend in by standing out.
Rule #8 - Be the life of the party.
Rule #9 - Whatever it takes to get in, get in.
Rule #10 - Invitations are for pussies.
Rule #14 - You're a distant relative of a dead cousin.
Rule #15 - Fight the urge to tell the truth.

We also made sure the DJ was on our wavelenght and stopped playing usual wedding shite like ABBA and Bucks Fizz. Bon Jovi & Whigfield are much better at filling dancefloors these days.

The bride looked so confused when I congratulated her - she had no idea who I was but that's the beauty of weddings; you can always pass yourself off as the Groom's guest should the bride not know you and vice-versa (Rule #92). My only slip up was signing the guest book,

"Garry & Donna, you're the best. Love Andy & Pezza xxx"

After I wrote in it I could see that I was the first to do so. Oops.

We left that wedding when a fight broke out. We had arranged a circle for the couple to have the final dance of the evening and some nonce started break dancing in the middle. As the scuffles started we got out of there and back to the original bar where we found another bride! We got chatting and told her she looked much fitter than Donna and she invited us all to the reception room for their wedding! Two weddings in one night!

It was then Sunday. Matchday. We struggled through breakfast and got to Old Trafford, we were in the posh bit which was top drawer as usual. Wilf McGuinnes was on form and Pezza & Cazzie were wetting themselves over Mark Cueto who was United's guest for the day.



The match was ok but our performance was ropey. We played pretty poor but a few stunning saves from Shay Given made sure the match ended 1-1. I received some consolation in that I backed Fletcher to score the last goal at 14-1. From there we had a couple of beers down the Queer Village, a Chinese and then it was time for bed after a quality 5-star weekend. All the pics are here.

And so that takes us to the bank holiday weekend. Bingo Dalowsky & I treated ourselves to a couple of gigs this weekend. First stop was Leeds Festival.

We used to come here every year for the whole weekend (Thurs - Mon) in our Uni days as we were lucky enough to get some of the best jobs on the site. None of this 'sitting for 10 hours by a fence' lark for us. No. We worked for Welfare & Lost Property which was basically a 4 hour doss with intermittent festival enjoying. We got this through Paul's bro who is a teacher and therefore got the whole summer off, he and his fellow teachers (the 'Crewe Union of New Teachers - or C.U.N.T. for short) would do Leeds & V during the summer. It really was the easy life, we would check the line ups, put in our request for when we do not want to work each day and then enjoy the festival with secure car parking, private camping, showers, free food and (best of all) backstage passes. They were tremendous years.

These days we just totter along for the day if there's a band on we like and this year saw the return of Rage Against The Machine to our shores after an exile of a few years. They headlined the main stage and I can honestly say in my years of festival/gig going I have never seen anything like it. The whole crowd was bouncing, they even had to stop halfway through Bombtrack as it was getting a bit too hairy up the front. Paul & I eventually found our way to front-centre and it was a definite contender for gig of the year.

Rage: no need for gimmicks, just pure rock.

The next day we got up and took Max Dalowsky for a couple of walks and caught up with Pregnant Joanna before the final instalment of the weekend, REM at Lancs cricket ground. REM never, ever let you down and it was a perfect set to finish the weekend off. Pics from the inaugural 'Dudes Festival' are here.

So that's about it. Lots and lots more to come. This Friday is Duncan's stag do, I'll do my best to draft the blog for that on Saturday when I'm on the plane to Florida! Yep, our two weeks in the Sunshine State are here although Hurricanes Gustav & Hanna threaten to spoil the party.

Provided my phone doesn't die I'll be doing N95 blogs, similar in style to the 'America' post I did before the three Cali blogs, so just because there's no fancy pics or annoying slide shows doesn't mean I'm being lazy.

xxx

End of the Road

Our last day in Newcastle was much better, the sun came out and we weren't going to waste it so after I managed to drag Pezza out of bed we hit the pool, it was still a bit too windy to lie on the beach. After a few hours of nothingness it was time to head down to Beaumont Street for Friday night in Newcastle It is very different to its namesake as there are no fat slappers wearing ill fitting leggings and no blokes determined to kill you with a bottle of 'Broon'.

Newcastle Harbour

For a town with a population of under 300,000 it was ok, if a little quiet - the taxi driver said that the combination of dodgy weather, Christmas coming up and tomorrow's election meant that some chose to stay in. We found a pub that did good food and good Hunter Valley wine (after a bit of an issue with the waitress who claimed to have grown up in the vineyards who didn't know what a Hunter red was). After spending 10 days in Australia on this trip and eating out every night (as opposed to last year when I don't think we ate nothing apart from midnight Subway) I have grown to appreciate what good Aussie Tucker is: it's very similar to English food only much more of it and with added beetroot. Seriously, they add beetroot to everything, it's even good enough for our friend Ronald McDonald who sells the bizarrely titled 'McOz' - a Quarter Pounder with a thick slice of the red stuff. I really wish I could have been in the kitchen when the chef said, "Aahh yeah, I reckon this lamb stew needs a bit more beetroot, Bruce, and fetch me the ketchup."

That being said, it was very nice and we made our way the the bar for more VB and some live music - one of Newcastle's best exports as Beaumont Street is home of the mighty Silverchair, but they were busy or something.

Saturday. Election day. After deciding that it would be inappropriate if we rocked up at a polling station to vote we hopped in the car and made the 3 hour drive to Bowral (the homeland of the magnificent Don Bradman) to spend the day and night with Grace & Billy. Aside from the fact it was good to catch up with them it was really nice to spend the night in a home after 3 weeks in hotels. We had it all, access to a washing machine, a home cooked roast dinner, live Premier League football (which we don't talk about) and trash TV. Grace was looking forward to An Audience With The Spice Girls which I thought may have been filmed very recently to coincide with the start of their world tour (which wont be a patch on Take That's) however I became suspicious that it may not be such a new program when Luther Vandross started singing with them. A nice homely day in Bowral (with typical Bowral weather) followed by the hour and a half drive to our final Australian destination, Sydney.

The drive to Sydney reminded me of the drive into Blackpool in that you're always cricking your neck trying to look out for the landmarks. Karen won the race with first sighting of the bridge as I was arguing with the sat nav who didn't seem to know any roads in Sydney apart from the ones that were closed for the Christmas Parade. It was sad to see the car go after spending 6 days on the road, driving through Queensland & NSW and stopping at Brisbane, Byron Bay, Coffs 'fucking' Harbour, Newcastle, Bowral and now Sydney together with all the little side stops at Surfers Paradise, Mermaid Beach, Lennox Head, Ballina, Yamba and Port Macquarie - a total distance of over 850 miles seeing some of the most glorious beaches in the world and some mild Aussie road rage. At least that's what I got out of it - below is a picture of Karen in her typical 'on the road' pose.

Once we dropped the car off we could pop out and enjoy what was a cracking day at Sydney Harbour. We were more than happy to sit and take in the views over several drinks and it was great to see Alex & Dom (who I told at the wedding I would never see again as he threw up on the bar).

Today was the final of Australian Idol hosted by my good self, 'Andy G' (see - they couldn't even come up with a nickname for him. And he IS the nickname for Nathan Bracken!)

Anyway, after the final it was time for a fireworks display. My second evening drinking by the harbour in my life and another fireworks display, this one was a little smaller than the New Year's one but still better than any other you're likely to see.

Dom has since thanked me for his hangover he had to suffer on Monday in work as Karen & I strolled around Darling Harbour and took in the touristy things such as the Aquarium (much better than Melbourne - Ian you should add that to your letter to Australia).
As we made our way back to Circular Quay for dinner we came across a bit of a furore that can only be caused by David Beckham who was attending a cocktail party with his teammates and Sydney FC ahead of tonight's game. The poor Sydney players (including little Juninho) were completely ignored as all the Japs waited for a glimpse of Mr Beckham. He appeared and went just as quickly but our highlight was not Mr Posh who I've seen hundreds of times before but seeing Jason Donovan - so happy - here's the back of his head:

Today is Tuesday and we've got tickets to see the match. Alex is quite keen to get on it afterwards, hopefully we'll play the Aussie drinking game again!
Andy
xxx

The Road Trip

We have the car. Getting it at Brisbane airport was unusually efficient for Australia - one girl sorted us out very quickly which goes against the usual Aussie philosophy of 'why employ one person to do a job when you can employ three who can all get in each other's way'.

Sat Nav on, Aussie Rock tuned in on the stereo and we were ready to hit the road. I had plugged in the address of our hotel in Byron Bay into the sat nav and it was taking us down Highway 1 which is a road that circumnavigates Australia but does it a mile or so inland. It's therefore not the most scenic route so when we got near the Gold Coast so I made a sharp left and headed for the sea. We drove through Southport until we got to Surfers Paradise. Two things struck me - first of all what an amazing place this looks: the beach, the town, the surf and the sun but, secondly, I was glad not to be staying here as it was totally infested with Schoolies. This week marks the start of the Australian summer holidays and all the kids who have just left school head to the coast for some joyriding and underage drinking, Surfers is their preferred destination.

We were getting peckish so we drove another couple of miles and found a spot called Mermaid Beach which looks up the coast to Surfers, not a bad spot for some dinner.

I had really wanted to see these beaches and doing so meant that time was getting on, we therefore got back on the motorway for the remaining hour long journey to Byron Bay.

Byron Bay is Australia's most easterly town, and we were staying in the most easterly hotel with great views over the beach and South Pacific. We picked the most amazing couple of days to spend in Byron, the weather is gorgeous and there's plenty of toned surf dudes and pert topless young ladies to keep Pezza and I occupied on the beach all day. By night Byron is a quaint yet bustling town with many bars sporting live music and bad behaviour. Pezza was in her element getting down with all the schoolies in the famous Cheeky Monkey bar.

We were a bit confused on the first night as places seemed to be closing a little early, we thought they were giving themselves a treat after what must have been a huge weekend with the schoolies. We went to bed and got up at about 10am as breakfast closed at 10.30am. It was as they were packing away breakfast we realised we were still on Queensland time and hadn't wound the watch on an hour. We spent a good 18 hours on the wrong time zone.

After a couple of days in Byron is was time to make the trip down to Coffs Harbour. We were in no doubt that Coffs would be very different to Byron but we were told it had good beaches and a decent nightlife that would keep us entertained until our chosen activity began - white water rafting on the Nymboida River.

Again, this was a 3 hour journey that took us over 5 hours as we stopped at many of the outstanding beaches along the way.

We were due to be in Coffs for two nights, when we got there on Wednesday we rang the rafting bloke who told us it was cancelled due to lack of numbers - it is the working week after all. We therefore decided to have an hour's nap before seeing what Coffs had to offer. The answer is absolutely nothing, it's a terrible place that even its own mother would hate; nothing is open after 9.30pm and it is a dirty dirty place. We managed to persuade the chef in our hotel to burn is a pizza and we then hit the sack. When we got up the next day it was cloudy and beginning to rain - it would have been ok if we were rafting but there was really nothing else to do. We decided to cut our losses and get in the car and head south.

It rained all the way down and we are now 250 miles south of Coffs in Newcastle (very weird as you have to drive though Stockton, Morpeth, Jesmond & Wickham to get here). It rained a lot in the night but we found Newcastle to be far more accommodating to the average person who just wants to sit and drink. That being said it wasn't a late one, I was pretty tired after the day driving and Pezza's having a bit of ear sadness.

The Aussies definitely lie about the weather. We had a cyclone in Dunk and the picture below is the rain in Newcastle, on top of this who can forget the 'hailstorm on Christmas Day in Melbourne' incident last year? Don't believe the conniving conmen when they say they live in a sunny paradise!

As I write this it's 11am Friday morning and the sun is just coming out. Newcastle has some great beaches and we'll head there hoping for more sun. The rest of the road trip involves another night here followed by the 3 hour drive to Bowral for a night at Grace & Billy's and then the 2 hours back up to Sydney where we dump the car and get drunk with Dom and Alex.

It's election time in Oz at the moment and the country is going a bit mental with it - but do they have Peter Snow??

Andy

xxx