Iced Coffee, Whale Watching and a Drowning Lifeguard...

This update is a little overdue and I’m sorry for this....had plenty to do and very little blogging time.
This week has been one of sorting out work as well as virtually living on public transport. On Monday I had my first of three job inductions at the local leisure centre. When I was told it was an induction I was expecting a few hours of guided tours, paperwork and getting to know the centre; how wrong I was! It started off with a tour of the building but when this was finished we definitely didn’t do paperwork. Instead a 400 metre timed swim was slyly dumped on us, 13 minutes to complete it...Oh dear. Just to put this in context, in England the fitness tests are two 25 metre swims followed by towing a casualty back 20 metres and then 10 metres; 65 seconds for the first and 45 for the second. Incidentally the quickest I have ever swam is 100 metres in about 10 seconds, though this wasn’t officially swimming, it was more a case of losing concentration whilst body boarding and being carried to shore by a rather large wave. Getting back to the topic in hand, I managed to complete the swim in 10 minutes, I was very pleased as well as very f***ed! Straight after this the instructor asked for a volunteer to play act a drowning scene; I’m not sure what he was getting at when he said I would be perfect for it.
Tuesday was spent recovering from the previous day’s antics, when would I ever have to swim 400 metres when lifeguarding a 50 metre pool anyway? Crazy! Moving on, we went into the city again on Wednesday after I had been to my second induction, this one was far more reasonable and contained no swimming whatsoever. The train journey in didn’t quite go to plan as a unexpected bump left me with iced coffee on a white shirt. After a quick glance to make sure that not everyone was laughing at me, I mopped it up and carried on as if nothing had happened. However, the light brown, saturated area on my shirt compromised this somewhat.
As we left the station, I watched a lady trip on the stairs that were alongside my escalator. As she stood back up she demonstrated the same quick glance around to make sure no one had seen her/were laughing at her; I had and I was. But as I peered down at the stain on my own shirt which was now standing out like a sore thumb (I’ve never quite understood that saying) I realised I was in no position to be ridiculing another person’s misfortune. Tragic.
After a very long ten minutes trying to hide it, I gave into temptation and common sense and bought a new shirt from Perth’s equivalent of Primark. Job done, now I could laugh at whoever I wanted.
It didn’t take long for me to notice that Australia advertises Christmas, as early if not earlier than England. Everywhere you looked was Christmas sales, decorations, adverts! Are they off their heads? It’s not even November yet! By all means have a few little signs, maybe some small reminders that Christmas is all of 10 weeks away, but not full blown decorations!
Thursday came and went with only a weekly shop to report and Friday was the day of my dreaded Lifeguard requalification exam; complete with a repeat of my 400 metre drown. It was based in Fremantle, an old fashioned port half hour south of Perth. This meant an hour on the train for me as well as an early start (5.45am). Luckily everything went to plan and I passed it all, yes including the swim which left me feeling very relieved that I chose not to eat my full allocation of sandwiches at lunch time, reappearance could have been messy.
We faced one of the top sides in the league on Saturday in very English conditions; cloudy, windy and with rain in the air. We won the toss and batted first and were 170 all out by 4 o’clock. I was out for only 6, LBW which left me with a trophy bruise on my inner thigh; and yes before you tell me, I know that is what the bat is for. They finished the day on 50-2.
It was 35 degrees and very bright on Sunday, perfect for our day of Whale watching. The only stint of whale watching I had experienced before was completely in voluntary. It was in St. Kitts but came in the form of trying to see past the disgustingly fat, loudmouthed Americans who couldn’t help but draw attention to themselves on what was meant to be a relaxing boat trip. This trip however was different and so it bloody should be for $80. An early wise crack from myself about the whereabouts of the harpoon gun didn’t go down very well and left me dodging a few stares from the surrounding tourists...ooops.
As we approached the end of the first hour we had seen as many whales as we had clouds in the sky, absolutely none. I don’t know what happened after that, but out to play came the Whales and everywhere we looked was greeted with a surfacing or a splash. At one point one of these magnificent mammals’ surfaced 5 metres from the boat, it was amazing to see. The 15 minutes that followed was a relatively dry patch, but soon enough we spotted 3 Humpbacks’ putting on a show a few hundred metres away. They were surrounded by 3 tourist boats and obviously relished the attention. (See Facebook for videos and pictures) We arrived back on dry land satisfied, but very hungry. A trip to the greatest takeaway/restaurant around, Wok In a Box sorted this and so we headed home.
A cooler week is predicted weather wise, so I may be able to leave the house. I may also be able to start work this week which I am looking forward to for some bizarre reason, might have something to do with £12/13 an hour...

Transport, Racism and a Controversial Cheese

Two weeks into the 24 week trip and things are going pretty well. Weather is warming up, (whether or not this is a good thing for someone with a pale complexion is debatable) we’re beginning to find our way around the place and I have potentially sorted out some work; its dependant on passing a course but hopefully I should get use of the Visa quite soon. Its lifeguarding work and on the plus side; it pays more than double what I was getting back home, bargain. I have always thought that £5 an hour for a lifeguard was verging on taking the piss. Although the job is 95% uneventful, the responsibility of a person’s life is worth a little more. Added to this the potential of a prison sentence, should you, god forbid, mess something up that led to a person dying...
So when I found out that the local swimming pool pays $22.60 (£12ish) an hour to their lifeguards I was pretty impressed. It’s just one of many things that Australia does better than England. It just seems that we are trudging along at the back as the Aussies continuously lap us in the race to national perfection. But how is it we are, in many cases, 20 years behind a nation that we should be hundreds of years in front of? I’m yet to bring out the ‘convict’ claim and will remain reluctant to unless strongly provoked. But we did place the first Western inhabitants on to the island all those years ago and yet still we lag behind.
Let’s take immigration for example. I’m not talking about visitors, (see how I covered myself there) just people looking to settle. For years Australia has imposed a points system meaning that anyone wishing to move there must qualify in a number of categories. The main one being that they must carry skills or qualifications that relate to the needs of the country. To put it simply, you must bring something that can benefit the country. Therefore you cannot come over, expect to be given a house and all the money you want while the majority of society works for a living. Oh and you have to pass language competency tests which rules out the ‘language barrier’ excuse for unemployment. England has recently begun the process of mimicking a system like this, but, like the building of Wembley Stadium, will probably take longer than planned to finish.
My next example is public transport. Perth’s Transit system links buses, trains and ferry’s and runs as one combined service. The trains are very rarely late and best of all are REASONABLY priced. Tickets are zoned and can be used on any bus, train or ferry up until a certain time. Or you can buy a day rider which enable you to use any public transport all day, anywhere. This day rider ticket costs $8.80 which is roughly £5.00. Now compare this to a £7.20 return train ticket into Bristol from Yatton, (about half an hour) and you’ll see where I’m coming from. This outrageous pricing scheme on the British Railways comes at a time where we are constantly being reminded about Global warming and cutting down on emissions. You’re not going to convince people to take public transport instead of driving if they have to go without food for a week to afford it.
A further example is sporting facilities. In Perth you will struggle to travel 10 miles without seeing a state of the art facility purpose built for sport. They are facilities that are well maintained and well attended. In comparison to the UK, in which someone has to slip in a pile of dog shit (for want of a more formal term) or fall ill from its effects before anyone thinks of clearing the pitches. I understand that this is as much the fault of dog owners as it is the councils but it’s clearly not good enough. Youngsters will quickly fall back in front of their XBOX or computer if they have to dodge faeces (I’ve found it) like land mines every time they venture outside.
It may look like I’m completely slagging off our great nation. But amongst all its positives (crisp autumn mornings, power, countryside) there are many blemishes. God save our Queen...
Despite being 20 years ahead of us on many things, I have found an issue that Australia is decades behind the UK on. Since I’ve been out here I have heard, on more than one occasion, racism of a strong nature, so to put it. These comments are the sought that only you’re Granddad can get away with because ‘it was acceptable in his time...’ The target of most of the abuse is ironically the aborigines, whose land this was in the first place; the cheek of it.
Whilst trekking through the supermarket this week, my eyes were drawn to the cheese section. I looked once, rubbed my eyes, looked again and rubbed my eyes once more before bursting into fits of shameful laughter. If you haven’t already seen the photo, Australia has a brand of cheese called ‘COON’. In the 21st century this is surely oh so far outdated. I can’t imagine this brand lasting ten seconds is the UK. You can’t even sing ‘Bah Bah Black sheep’ anymore for fearing of offending someone and causing carnage. Needless to say I bought some....We all love a bit of cheese after all.
Finally back off of my many tangents, the trip itself has been going really well. We had the novelty of a rained off cricket match, yes that’s right a rained off cricket match in Australia. Of course we would have played through it back home; a bit of toughening up required on the part of the locals I think.
Cooking is becoming ever easier, last night’s meal was Chicken, rice and vegetables. I definitely didn’t phone my Mum to ask how to cook the chicken, it just comes naturally.
Our housemate Cruella is yet to break a smile. I figured she must work as a pest exterminator by day and end up swallowing hundreds of wasps; it’s the only logical explanation.
I had my first experience of Joondalup’s nightlife on Saturday and took a liking to the local drink, Fusion with a hint of lemon, can’t go wrong. It’s very similar to Clevedon in many ways, a few half decent pubs and then on to a shoddy, worn down night club that everyone goes to because they can’t be bothered to go into the city. I gave Dusk (Joondalup’s version of Vibe) a miss due to a shortage of funds on the night.
I’ll keep trying to update, Ciao for now....x

Glasses, Zombies and Lara the digi-person...Week 1 in Perth

To say that this first week has been eventful would be a terrible injustice to the term. Strict evidence that your parents do a little more than nag and moan; but I won’t tell them that.
The flight itself, in contrast to everything else, was rather uneventful. A few moments when it felt more like a stint at sea than a flight; but that be forgiven as the flight path was directly through the heart of the Pacific Ocean storms that devastated Samoa.
In flight entertainment provided many a laugh with recent hit film ‘The Hangover’ doing most the work. The passengers sat around me also found out what a hilarious film it is as I often forgot that although headphones stop you from hearing yourself laugh; it does little for anyone else. However a few stern looks over at me and the odd turning head soon made me realise my error.
The flight stop over was in Hong Kong. From the airport you can see the magnificent City with its montage of skyscrapers filling the overcast skyline. The airport itself is amazing with a tube train taking you to departure gates every few minutes. After admiring the city skyline I also observed that everyone in Hong Kong wears glasses, (I assume they were all from Hong Kong or surrounding places, apologies for being unable to tell the difference, black hair and slanted eyes leave little to differentiate.) It was very strange and is something Specsavers may want to look into; a Hong Kong base could be a good investment.
Next stop was Perth which came and went in a few blinks as I finally managed to get to sleep. I was woken only twice, both times for food, which was devoured before I returned to sleep. Hard life.
A downside of travelling to Australia is the hassle of declaring goods at customs. Foreign soil and food being a few things off of the forbidden list. All this kafuffle makes for a major delay, all a bit too much after 20 hours of travelling. Not to mention the amount of times the cue at customs was held up by a Chinese/Japanese/Korean/Polynesian person who had failed to do anything they were meant to have by the time they reached the front. This honestly isn’t a racist attack on the Far East, merely an observation; and an irritating one at that.
So after declaring sports shoes, collecting luggage and squeezing my way through customs it was straight to bed for a well needed sleep. I forced myself out of bed at a reasonable time (9ish) to avoid sending my body clock doo-lally amidst all the changing time zones and the fact that my body still thought it was 2am.
Next stop was the estate agent to collect keys and sign three rainforests worth of paperwork which all pretty much gave the message of ‘if you break it, you pay for it.’ The house seemed really nice at first but we were soon reminded that we were not alone after a quick glance into the fridge, lovely. Apart from that it is nice, exactly as I imagine student accommodation to be like at University.
House mates came and went throughout the day with the odd, ‘Hello’ or ‘G’day’ as they passed. Not all friendly though as one of the zombie girls on our floor proved. She did manage a grunt as she gormed her way past in a zombie like manor back to her room. The challenge to us is to try and make her smile by the time we leave, but I fear if this is achieved, there is a strong chance that hell will freeze over and the world would end.
I have done a bit of shopping in the past, usually for bread and milk, maybe some eggs as well. But never have I done a full food shop. This all led to our supermarket trip being an absolute nightmare but hilarious at the same time. We did buy essentials though; baked beans, pasta, rice, cereal and milk. Adventurous I know.
That evening we went to our first Squad training session which went well; realised how professional everything is over here. But there was a downside to it; we were served food after training, bit of chicken and lasagne. I was reminded of this meal the next morning; more than once which led to a day in bed. Not ideal.
When my stomach cleared up and I was able to venture outside the house without having to dart back to the bathroom it was game time. To cut a long story short we lost having scored 220 in our innings, 48 of which were scored by me, before a mixture of a day in bed and the heat (which to me was pretty warm but the locals were wearing jumpers and skins) got to me and I gifted my wicket away.
A quiet few days followed the cricket before we tackled the next task of internet and mobile phones. If I’d have known this meant 5 hours in a Vodafone shop and 2 hours on the phone to Lara the digital woman on the helpline, I would have thought twice. She struggled to understand ‘I want to speak to a f***ing human’ and just asked me to repeat it. Science is NOT all progress.
After 2 days of throwing things and swearing to avoid completely losing it, we finally got a connection. Hallelujah.
Thursday saw us embark on what proved to be a pretty pointless trip to the city in search of a tax file number. It wasn’t pointless in terms of finding it, this we did but pointless because we could quite easily have sorted it on the internet we spent 2 days stressing over. Hindsight is a wonderful thing.
So with tax file numbers gained and internet working all that is left is to find a job. The reluctant search is a task for next week.
I’ll try and update every week....Ciao for now...x