ianbee: this is instead of getting a dog

The un-Haka

After a week of leaving the house everyday for work at six am (see photo above), it's great to have the whole weekend off. Yesterday I went to see the All Blacks play Australia at the Olympic stadium.

I really didn't care who won, but the lead changed hands three times in the last few minutes, which is always exciting! When the All Blacks were two points behind, a very drunk Australian behind me shouted out "Have you got a haka for looooooosing? Is it called ... (he clearly hadn't thought this through) ... um ... the un-haka? Show us your un-haka!" At which point the All Blacks kicked a penalty and sealed the match.

In the face of an increasingly grubby flat I have decided to get in a cleaner to help with the chores. The child labour laws are pretty relaxed in Australia. Small hands can clean in all the tight spaces between the cupboards.

 

Lions

I've not written about the British and Irish Lions tour of South Africa yet, even though it's now over That's because I haven't been watching the matches live and I have been terrified that someone will spoil the results for me. I watched the last test match yesterday, it was amazing! What a great game, what a great team! And I am thrilled with the result of "operation lion" on a domestic level too - I managed to get through all three tests without knowing the score beforehand! The matches were only on a subscription cable channel over here. I managed to find someone at work who's brother-in-law was willing to record the games for me. They were recorded on the Saturday, and passed to me on the Tuesday. During those four days I avoided Facebook and all the rugby news websites. The fact that no-one over here cares helped, although if anyone had found out that I cared then I'm sure my pleasure would have been ruined.

If you don't know what I'm talking about, the Lions is an invitation rugby union side made up of the best players from England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland. Every few years they tour another rugby nation in a season which usually culminates in a best-of-three test series. I find it wonderful because after four years of fighting each other, it's a chance to stand alongside my Scottish, Welsh and Irish friends and support the same team for once. Anyway, that's it for another four years. We're enemies again now

Running up a hill

On Sunday I ran in the "Balmoral Burn", a charity race up a hill. It's not a long race, but it is a very steep hill. I entered because it's only round the corner from me and some of the money goes to the place where I work. And because there was a dog race.

It was a proper race! You had a number on your chest, and an electronic tag on your ankle so they could work out your exact time. In training I always had to stop for a breather half way up because just when you are running out of puff, it gets a little bit steeper and this can be the end of even the most hardened athlete (apparently). I figured that adrenaline and cheering crowds would get me through this troublesome bump on the day. It turned out that there wasn't much adrenaline, it was over so quick! I did it in just under two and-a-half minutes. The last thirty seconds of which were very sore. I'm a bit disappointed with my time; I started off too slow, at the back. If I did it again I'd also consider warming up, and not eating an apple shortly before.

Watching the wheelchair athletes climb was humbling. They had to zig-zag back and forth across the road. Their arms must have been burning. One guy used his electric wheelchair which, call me cynical, seemed to be more a factor of battery-charge and tire-grip.

Anyway, we're here for the dogs so lets see some photos.

Accidental Coastal Skipper

A couple of weeks ago I took a sailing course and accidentally became a coastal skipper. I had intended to do a course that would qualify me as an inshore skipper - if I passed I would be allowed to take a boat out on the harbour or within an enclosed inshore area. So I booked myself onto a five day course. In hindsight five days did seem like a long time for an inshore potter-round-the-bay course. When I turned up on the first morning we were handed an itinerary which had us sailing straight out of Lake Macquarie and up the coast to Newcastle. (No, not that Newcastle, the other one.) We were then to sail back to Sydney. Then back up to Lake Macquarie via Pittwater. At night time. I swallowed hard. This was not what I expected. I carefully explained to the instructor that he should expect me to be at the lower end of the class of three students.

It turned out to be a wonderful week. Very hard, very challenging, but a lot of fun. Dolphins followed us on several occasions. We tied up at the fishmarkets in Sydney and brought fresh prawns for breakfast. I can now plot an overnight course, identify a dredger by it's navigation lights, plan an entry into a busy port and do a three point turn in a busy marina. I passed!

Sailing offshore is fun, but on the East coast of Australia you are limited to going up (North) or down (South), turning round and then sailing back again. There are beaches and cliffs and sunsets, but very few corners. In contrast, sailing offshore in Scotland involves weaving erratically inbetween islands, sticky-out mainland bits and wrecks. It's the difference between an athletics track and a cross-country run.

Rugby Exile

My Six-Nations rugby blues peaked today, in anticipation of missing the Wales v England match at the weekend. I've been thinking about how to watch the games over here, in the land that the BBC iPlayer doesn't reach. Then today I had a thought, it must be possible in the 21st Century to watch them online  from anywhere in the world. Fifteen minutes later I am typing this whilst watching the highlights of last weekend's matches streamed onto my screen complete with BBC comentary! It might be in a fuzzy four-inch high box and it might screw with your internet settings and it might inexplicably crash (in shock?) when Scotland score a try, but Setanta are only charging me fifteen dollars a month so I am happy :o) Although part of me wishes I was Welsh. Another part of me wishes I was walking back after the match from Murrayfield to my flat right now, ready for Top Gear and toast.

Crowd Violence and Crunchie Nut Cornflakes

There's a lot of tennis going on in Australia at the moment. I thought I might have misheard the news when the radio told me about crowd violence at the Australian Open. No, it's true, Australia has tennis hooligans. It's not isolated either, this is the third year in a row there has been crowd trouble! Apparently the fight last week started when a tennis ball was thrown between the groups of supporters ...

Since this is a bits n'pieces post, I should take the opportunity to show you my new cheese grater! I have been trying not to buy things in Australia which I already own in Scotland out of a sense of economy and unnecessary duplication. But after several months of grating cheese with a potato peeler (good for Parmesan, bad for Cheddar) I succumbed to the temptation to upgrade to the World's Best Grater.

 

It has got a big grippy handle (like a spade), a plastic clip-on base so you don't need a bowl, and one transparent side so you can see how much cheese you have grated! It's wonderful :o)

I was genuinely sad to hear that Tony Hart died this week. The gallery music has been stuck in my head for the best part of thirty years. And thank you for Morph.

On a lighter note the temperature hit 41 degrees in Sydney yesterday and my Crunchie Nut Cornflakes fused together into one big solid brick of Crunchie Nut goodness. Mmmmm ...

Picasa for Mac and sharks and squid

Sorry, this is a bit geeky, but Google have finally released Picasa for Mac! I have been running an old Windows 98 version on my Mac for the last few years becuase I hate iPhoto with a passion. It hates me too. Now I can finally look at my photos as nature intended.

Bodyboarding, it's seems to be a fine line between just bobbing in the water with a safety-float and participating in an extreme sport. I am worried I am leaning towards the former. Does anyone have any tips? I saw a jellyfish in the water on Christmas Day, which has dented my confidence. And there have been sightings of sharks nearby eating a giant squid. Sharks vs squid, in my neighbourhood! Cool!

Other news ... I am days away from finishing the West Wing series 7 and Doctor Who series 4! Two strands of my life coming to an end ...

Sydney to Hobart

I have been looking forward to today for ages, since even before I came to Australia. The Sydney to Hobart yacht race launches from the harbour each year on Boxing day. Over one hundred boats travel down the New South Wales coastline and into the Bass Strait, which separates the Australian mainland from Tasmania, arriving into Hobart after several days of sailing. It is an fearsome race, ten years ago six sailors died after a 'weather bomb' devastated the fleet. You have to be fit and practised and very brave.

I have read books on the race, I have gazed in awe at the boats moored up at the yacht clubs. Today I woke early (eight thirty - early for Boxing day!) packed a picnic and was at St George's head sitting on a rug and surrounded by Christmas cake and fudge three hours before the start time so I could get a good view. Helicopters darted overhead and every boat, barbeque and beach chair in Sydney appeared along the course.

It was an exciting start. The huge yacht with the red number seven on it went out ahead, the one with the blue sails following closely behind. The smaller boats made up the rearguard, but there is a complex handicap system which evens out the field in terms of size and sail area, so anyone can win. You can follow the race as it progresses here.
 

Return Match

One week after watching the All Blacks playing Australia at the olympic stadium in Sydney, I found myself in Auckland at the return match. I was only able to get seats in the 'temporary seating area', which I was expecting to be at nose-bleed altitude way up at the top of the stands. Instead I found my place in a row of extra seats positioned between the pitch and the front row of the permanent stands! I had possibly the best view ever, there were occasions I was close to intercepting passes.

The match was wonderful - New Zealand reversed their surprise loss in Sydney with an emphatic display of skill. Whereas the Australian supporters gave their team a standing ovation in Sydney, the All Black fans were not so generous in Auckland. A victory is greeted with a nod and the unspoken acknowledgment that the team has done what is expected of them. It must be tough playing in a culture with such high sporting standards.

Watching Olympics Abroad support group

It seems I touched a nerve when I mentioned my efforts at trying to follow the olympics on foreign soil. There must be many other ex-pats out there frustrated by partisan television coverage, I think some sort of support group is in order. Maybe it could be called WOA? (Any other suggestions?)

I miss the 'red button' a lot. It makes such a difference to the viewing experience. I would have loved to have been able to opt out of watching another group of people dressed in rubber swimming a predetermined distance using a predetermined stroke. I think the swimming would have been improved if there were fish with sharp teeth in the pool, and I also believe that the athletics would be more exciting if the athletes were being chased by fierce dogs. Everyone runs faster when being chased by a dog. Actually, the swimming would be more fun if someone pulled the plug out of the pool at the start of the race, so the people who come last get stuck in the middle and have to walk to the side.

It's not only the choice I miss, it's the whole BBC advert-free experience. Here in Australia there are adverts every ten minutes. And they are the same adverts. Every ten minutes. For two weeks. Good grief. I started watching the olympics whilst over in New Zealand, where the opening ceremony was interrupted for an advert for 'milking gloves' - "The use of milking gloves significantly contributes to udder hygiene." I suppose they must.

So here's a couple of links for the benefit of those armchair-athletes trapped in a foreign time zone and forced to endure olympic coverage sprinkled with adverts for milking gloves ...

I've really enjoyed the Guardian's coverage. Particularly their FAQ page:

Just how weird is Rebecca Romero?
Anyone who watched Romero being interviewed in the velodrome at the weekend, just after she'd steamed to gold in the women's individual pursuit race, might be moved to suggest that she is very weird indeed. In a good way, of course. While other athletes spend their post-race interviews simply glorying in their success, Romero retained an almost superhuman intensity. "If I hadn't done it today, I don't know where I would be," she said, before adding, in the most ominous declaration of this or any games, "probably on the floor, dead somewhere".

They also have a great interactive guide that attempts to explain the madness of pursuit cycling.

I've found Vincent Laforet's blog to be essential reading. He is a photographer working for Newsweek. His honest and detailed behind-the-scenes commentary is a wonderful insight into the sport and the spectacle. And the photos ... oh boy ...even if I was allowed to, I couldn't pick just one to put here. You must go and see for yourself. Promise me.