I caught a fresh cold some time over the weekend; it's all in my nose and sinus at present; not particularly pleasant but I don't feel like I'm actually sick either ie no sore throat or ears which is some consolation.
Gibbo finally went to the doc yesterday and came away with some antibiotics, a blood test request and a blood pressure machine. The doc took his bp three times and now he has to monitor it for a week. I'm not really surprised. However, he's gone away to CQ to visit 3 of his stations so who knows how often he'll take it; won't be back until Friday night.
I walked to work this morning - with Gibbo gone, Meg at work and Drew taking my car to school, I was left with Shanks' Pony. So I took advantage of the beautiful morning and took my time; it took me half an hour but five minutes of that was spent throwing stones at Poofy, trying to send him home from half way up the airstrip. I walked home again at 2.30 for lunch and didn't go back.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
The Weekend
I did the weekly grocery shop on Friday night - it's a quiet time to shop and it certainly frees up the weekend for more pleasurable pursuits.
I spent most of Saturday treating and splitting up my silkies into new breeding groups, scrubbing water dishes and preparing the next station in the round garden. Gibbo reinforced the circular pen for me so I've put the last surviving Barnie hen and the very expensive new rooster back into the permaculature garden so that they can prepare the next bed. It will take a little while with only two chooks but that's ok.
It looks like I might have finally been able to grow some good carrots - the last station, which has plenty of sand in it, appears to be friable enough to let the carrots actually grow downwards instead of being stunted.
Meg cooked butter chicken for Sunday night dinner from scratch (ie not from a bottle; she used individual spices and greek style yoghurt etc); plus she made the flat bread from scratch too. It was a delicious meal.
It looks like I might have finally been able to grow some good carrots - the last station, which has plenty of sand in it, appears to be friable enough to let the carrots actually grow downwards instead of being stunted.
I was feeling rather stressed at the state of the house garden and the prevalence of winter weeds in the lawn. Gibbo brought the four wheeler home with the spray rig attached and ran over the entire area in a fraction of the time it would have taken me using the 7 litre hand sprayer. It was a huge help. Now I just have to wait for the weeds to die; then I can go over what's left.
Kylie B came out in the late afternoon and brought Reb M with her for a look at the chooks (and goats and pig) and permaculture set-up.
Meg cooked butter chicken for Sunday night dinner from scratch (ie not from a bottle; she used individual spices and greek style yoghurt etc); plus she made the flat bread from scratch too. It was a delicious meal.The Rock Wallaby Birthday Cake
Megan's boyfriend, Chris, turned 23 last Saturday. She was stumped as to what sort of cake to make him. She's made Gibbo, Drew and Peter a special cake each and she wanted to do the same for Chris but, short of constructing an architectural masterpiece, she didn't know where to start.
I suggested the fantastic cake that Fiona at Rock Wallaby made for her daughter - whether it's for a six year old or a 23 year old, I thought it looked so rich and colorful and would go down a treat. So she whipped it up Friday afternoon (on her day off) and took it to Brisbane. It was a HUGE HIT- the boys in the house wanted to eat it straight away = and when a couple of them came home after a night out they ate as many of the m&m's off the top as they could without revealing too much of the surface of the cake itself.
The cake container came home empty.
So I think the Rock Wallaby Birthday Cake will make regular appearances, whether there's a birthday in the air or not!
I suggested the fantastic cake that Fiona at Rock Wallaby made for her daughter - whether it's for a six year old or a 23 year old, I thought it looked so rich and colorful and would go down a treat. So she whipped it up Friday afternoon (on her day off) and took it to Brisbane. It was a HUGE HIT- the boys in the house wanted to eat it straight away = and when a couple of them came home after a night out they ate as many of the m&m's off the top as they could without revealing too much of the surface of the cake itself.
The cake container came home empty.
So I think the Rock Wallaby Birthday Cake will make regular appearances, whether there's a birthday in the air or not!
QCS 2010 Style
Today is a big day for Queensland Seniors. They sit day 1 of their QCS test. Today was the writing task and multiple choice, tomorrow is short response and multiple choice.
Drew drove in early and picked Luke up on the way. The teachers cooked breakfast for the kids and they had a meditation session before it started. Mrs. C in the tuckshop prepared lunch for them. Same thing tomorrow.
Drew chose the 'wind' stimulus for his story and felt it went pretty well; the multiple choice was hard and I think he used the "if in doubt, always choose C" option a few times.
After he had relayed his story to me I reminded him that, both in the practice writing task held last month and today's task, the mother dies! I found todays' story really moving and the way he incorporated "the wind" was quite clever.
Tomorrow he goes back and does it all again; then two weeks to end of term. Next week is a big one, with 2 assignments due and 4 tests to sit.
Drew drove in early and picked Luke up on the way. The teachers cooked breakfast for the kids and they had a meditation session before it started. Mrs. C in the tuckshop prepared lunch for them. Same thing tomorrow.
Drew chose the 'wind' stimulus for his story and felt it went pretty well; the multiple choice was hard and I think he used the "if in doubt, always choose C" option a few times.
After he had relayed his story to me I reminded him that, both in the practice writing task held last month and today's task, the mother dies! I found todays' story really moving and the way he incorporated "the wind" was quite clever.
Tomorrow he goes back and does it all again; then two weeks to end of term. Next week is a big one, with 2 assignments due and 4 tests to sit.
Monday, August 23, 2010
Permy Update
We're still eating January tomatoes; the herbs have gone berserk; I don't know what to do with the dill!; the lettuce and spinach look crisp and fresh and the dwarf broccoli is/are ready to eat.
BIG NEWS IN THE MAIL
Dear Drew
Congratulations! We are delighted to inform you of your acceptance as a WEP exchange student.
Our partner organization will now commence the process of finding your future host family.......We can guarantee that the host family will be thoroughly interviewed, have their references checked and be a suitable family who are interested in welcoming you into their home and life.
So it's official - Drew is an exchange student! The letter must have arrived Friday and sat at the office all weekend. I opened it when I arrived at work this morning and gave a little gasp!
Congratulations! We are delighted to inform you of your acceptance as a WEP exchange student.
Our partner organization will now commence the process of finding your future host family.......We can guarantee that the host family will be thoroughly interviewed, have their references checked and be a suitable family who are interested in welcoming you into their home and life.
So it's official - Drew is an exchange student! The letter must have arrived Friday and sat at the office all weekend. I opened it when I arrived at work this morning and gave a little gasp!
Sleep Deprived; A Quick Trip and a Nice Visit
I'm still not sleeping normally - going to bed at 3.50am; getting up at 1.30am and going back down at 4.30am. It's weird.
Meg and I made a quick trip to Twba on Saturday; sheneeded wanted to get her nails done and buy a suit jacket for court days. She feels underdressed when everyone else is wearing one. She picked up a nice one on sale in Myer and had the nails prettied.
Drew worked the bar at Mary's and said it was really, really, really busy; he can now make four firetrucks in one hand in one go; no doubt a valuable skill to have and one which will hold him in good stead during QCS in the first week of September.
We had a really nice visit from the Ryan's and Ken on Sunday afternoon. They came to see Millie, Spotty, Pepper and Peach and Ken was quite taken with the vegetable garden. We compared soils and discussed plants. The kids really enjoyed the animals and they stayed for tea so they got to see Drew when he returned from Drama practice (assessment one-act plays are on this week).
I went back to work today; it wasn't so bad, it wasn't so good; it just is. Oh, and it rained; thought I was back in England.
Meg and I made a quick trip to Twba on Saturday; she
Drew worked the bar at Mary's and said it was really, really, really busy; he can now make four firetrucks in one hand in one go; no doubt a valuable skill to have and one which will hold him in good stead during QCS in the first week of September.
We had a really nice visit from the Ryan's and Ken on Sunday afternoon. They came to see Millie, Spotty, Pepper and Peach and Ken was quite taken with the vegetable garden. We compared soils and discussed plants. The kids really enjoyed the animals and they stayed for tea so they got to see Drew when he returned from Drama practice (assessment one-act plays are on this week).
This is Millie
This is Spotty - he just came from next door for a sleepover
Watch dem horns....
Hats are not just for wearing...
Friday, August 20, 2010
Oh Dear!
I've just downloaded 1800 photos from our travels! How on earth can I expect to cull them into a decent number so as not to totally clog up a) my portable hard drive and b) blogger.com! I've broken the trip up into rough categories and thought perhaps I'd just choose the best 5 or so from each but with 25 categories so far (and climbing) I'm not sure that's the right way to do it. I'll see how that plan goes anyway. Plus, I really did go overboard on some occasions, happily snapping away, knowing I could get rid of whatever isn't any good (and there's plenty of those!). Stay tuned. I'm going to slot them in amongst the emails as I go so as to break up the words and to make them more relevant. Then I'll maybe pick my 10 (?) favorites and publish them in one post on their own.
I'm having a terrible time re-adjusting to Aronui time. I had a sleep yesterday afternoon but then didn't go to bed until 3.30 this morning and got up at 8; and I'm not at all tired now so I might be up half the night again. I hope it all rights itself soon.
Drew has gone to town to work behind the bar at Mary's tonight for the super draw. They asked him to work tomorrow night as well, in the beer garden bar, for a fundraiser. The pub has been sold and the new owner asked him and Bree to work. He has his regular shift tomorrow afternoon as well so he's juggling a bit at the moment.
Meg is moving from the blue/yellow room into the pink room. I dare not venture up the hallway; just standing at this end of it is enough to give me a fright. She's discovered that both bathrooms are leaking again; an ongoing problem since the house was built in the 80's and a near impossible one to fix despite numerous attempts over the last 30 years. We had the ensuite bathroom retiled a little while ago and thought the problem might have been fixed - but obviously not.
It rained and rained last night and most of today; glorious on the vege garden (which looks fantastic still) and the real garden (which is looking sadly neglected still). The six Barnevelder chicks are growing strong; Peach the kid has doubled in size and Pepper is looking poor. Coco is devoted to Megan and Poofy - well he's just happy to be here. And did I mention Millie - she deserves a post of her own.
I'm having a terrible time re-adjusting to Aronui time. I had a sleep yesterday afternoon but then didn't go to bed until 3.30 this morning and got up at 8; and I'm not at all tired now so I might be up half the night again. I hope it all rights itself soon.
Drew has gone to town to work behind the bar at Mary's tonight for the super draw. They asked him to work tomorrow night as well, in the beer garden bar, for a fundraiser. The pub has been sold and the new owner asked him and Bree to work. He has his regular shift tomorrow afternoon as well so he's juggling a bit at the moment.
Meg is moving from the blue/yellow room into the pink room. I dare not venture up the hallway; just standing at this end of it is enough to give me a fright. She's discovered that both bathrooms are leaking again; an ongoing problem since the house was built in the 80's and a near impossible one to fix despite numerous attempts over the last 30 years. We had the ensuite bathroom retiled a little while ago and thought the problem might have been fixed - but obviously not.
It rained and rained last night and most of today; glorious on the vege garden (which looks fantastic still) and the real garden (which is looking sadly neglected still). The six Barnevelder chicks are growing strong; Peach the kid has doubled in size and Pepper is looking poor. Coco is devoted to Megan and Poofy - well he's just happy to be here. And did I mention Millie - she deserves a post of her own.
Not For Very Much Longer
The opportunities to see my baby up on stage are fast diminishing. Soon there'll be no more musicals, theatre restaurants, debates, public speaking forums, eisteddfods or openings of flash new school buildings. Mum and I (his two biggest fans) went to watch him MC the official proceedings during the commissioning and blessing of the new multi-purpose centre (MPC). He was fabulous. Of course. He was beautiful. Of course. He was handsome up there. Of course. He shone. Of course he did. He's my son. The first part of the program saw the school band play, the school choir sing, many prayers and thanks offered up and the building/s blessed. Then Drew came on and officiated through the welcome, anthem, introductions of "distinguished guests", speeches, unveiling of the plaque and finally, to the conclusion, OLSC: Be Our Guide.
I know I'm totally biased and I ramble on about him - but there's something about Drew when he has an audience - something comes over him; he stands tall; his shoulders squared; his head held high; his voice lowered - and off he goes. He seems to take on another persona almost and really steps up to the occasion - and relishes it. Eisteddfod adjudicators always commented on his facial expressions and his ability to engage an audience and keep them with him.
It was a huge honor for him to be chosen to be MC and he/we received many compliments. Someone that he doesn't know told him he should be a "professional" MC; many people congratulated him on a job well done. He and Lydia showed the Senator around the new facilities. 
As you can see, I took some incredibly crappy photos to record the day. I was a bit far back and I just couldn't get the settings right for a good photo.
So I guess a lot of the blogs I write between now and the middle of November will be about Drew - and the end of so many things. At the risk of sounding morbid and negative, the next few months will present me with some challenges that I'm going to struggle with and my blogging will go a long way to helping me through the sadness of it all. So bear with me during these times. In amongst my sadness there will be patches of light; his excitement and relief at finishing his official schooling; the formal; the graduation; that damn Schoolies week and then the start of a totally new adventure for him. I will be excited for him too but it will be bittersweet; I want these things for him but I don't want them for myself.
A constant theme too will be the new doors that may open for me, now that my responsibilities will change. I guess I should embrace the possibilities and the freedoms that the changes will bring; except it's too soon to look forward to any of that just yet. Maybe in time.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Instalment 12 - End of Story
It was a pleasant flight from Singapore to Brisbane. I watched a storm in the sky for a while but couldn't really sleep. Anticipation I expect, plus an out of whack body clock. I felt a real sense of pride/emotion/nostalgia when the sun started to come up and I knew I was over Australian soil; I had a lump in my throat and nearly a tear in my eye. I am so glad I'm Australian.
We landed at 1/4 to 7 and took an hour to pick up our duty free purchases and clear passport control and customs. Lillie met us and we dropped her home and continued on to Toowoomba where we caught up with Gibbo's mum and Viv and Desley and Ken. Then we came to D and went to Mums; Megan was waiting there for us and had the afternoon off. It was so exciting to see her; she's so beautiful. We came home; I saw Andrew on the way and had a quick chat to him. Peter rang to welcome us home.
Started unpacking and washing; we met Millie, the new mouth to feed. Andrew found her running on the side of the road after he'd been to check some traps and he knew Meg had been wanting one for ages. Bit like the goat story really. She is only a few weeks old and is Megan's delight. Chris wants to call her "ham". She'll never end up on the table though; she'll be with us for the duration now. You can't eat something you've given a name to.
Drew had driven himself to school as he had to go to Toowoomba to a Biology day at USQ so he didn't get home until after 4.30pm. He came over the grid, beeping the horn madly. I raced out to meet him; he was grinning widely and we had a huge hug and kiss.
I made a delicious beef steak pie for dinner; Meg made potato and pumpkin roasted chips. We gave out the gifts we'd bought then went through some of the photos. Gibbo, Megan and Mum fell asleep! How dare they. Actually, I came very close to nodding off too; the camera nearly fell out of my hand once of twice so we all packed off to bed.
It's wonderful to be home again with the kids. Megan is still loving her job and the goats and little Millie. Her Uni work is going well; she made a fantastic guitar cake for Peter's 50th birthday while we were away. She also made him honey soy chicken wings. He was so blown away by them coming to his little "party" and for showing their love. He likes spending time with us because we're all so funny. Drew is going well at school; he got straight A's for his Japanese for terms 1 and 2 so that's a great achievement for him. He's MC tomorrow at the commissioning/opening of the new multi purpose centre at school. He's chosen his subjects for QTAC; his WEP profile has been sent off to Canada - now we just have to wait for a family over there to "choose" him. I'm sure he'll get snapped up right away - how could he not!!! He's really excited.
Today we slept the afternoon away. Tomorrow Gibbo will go to the office and I will go to the school for the opening ceremony. Drew has a total of 10 weeks of school left. Egad. That means that graduation, formal and Schoolies are not that far away. I need to start taking my strong pills.
Now all that's left to do really is go through the hundreds of photos I took and pick out the best ones to keep and post here. I have a good record of our trip due to the detailed emails I sent home.
I don't go back to work until Monday...and that's another thing. I have to decide what I'm going to do there...do I give up the "arrivals" part of the job and just keep doing all the other...do I give it away altogether (virtually impossible considering what I do for G)...do I cut back to say 20 hours of office work a week and pursue "other interests"...or do I just keep plodding along, being tired and cranky at the world.
A girl's gotta do something.
We landed at 1/4 to 7 and took an hour to pick up our duty free purchases and clear passport control and customs. Lillie met us and we dropped her home and continued on to Toowoomba where we caught up with Gibbo's mum and Viv and Desley and Ken. Then we came to D and went to Mums; Megan was waiting there for us and had the afternoon off. It was so exciting to see her; she's so beautiful. We came home; I saw Andrew on the way and had a quick chat to him. Peter rang to welcome us home.
Started unpacking and washing; we met Millie, the new mouth to feed. Andrew found her running on the side of the road after he'd been to check some traps and he knew Meg had been wanting one for ages. Bit like the goat story really. She is only a few weeks old and is Megan's delight. Chris wants to call her "ham". She'll never end up on the table though; she'll be with us for the duration now. You can't eat something you've given a name to.
Drew had driven himself to school as he had to go to Toowoomba to a Biology day at USQ so he didn't get home until after 4.30pm. He came over the grid, beeping the horn madly. I raced out to meet him; he was grinning widely and we had a huge hug and kiss.
I made a delicious beef steak pie for dinner; Meg made potato and pumpkin roasted chips. We gave out the gifts we'd bought then went through some of the photos. Gibbo, Megan and Mum fell asleep! How dare they. Actually, I came very close to nodding off too; the camera nearly fell out of my hand once of twice so we all packed off to bed.
It's wonderful to be home again with the kids. Megan is still loving her job and the goats and little Millie. Her Uni work is going well; she made a fantastic guitar cake for Peter's 50th birthday while we were away. She also made him honey soy chicken wings. He was so blown away by them coming to his little "party" and for showing their love. He likes spending time with us because we're all so funny. Drew is going well at school; he got straight A's for his Japanese for terms 1 and 2 so that's a great achievement for him. He's MC tomorrow at the commissioning/opening of the new multi purpose centre at school. He's chosen his subjects for QTAC; his WEP profile has been sent off to Canada - now we just have to wait for a family over there to "choose" him. I'm sure he'll get snapped up right away - how could he not!!! He's really excited.
Today we slept the afternoon away. Tomorrow Gibbo will go to the office and I will go to the school for the opening ceremony. Drew has a total of 10 weeks of school left. Egad. That means that graduation, formal and Schoolies are not that far away. I need to start taking my strong pills.
Now all that's left to do really is go through the hundreds of photos I took and pick out the best ones to keep and post here. I have a good record of our trip due to the detailed emails I sent home.
I don't go back to work until Monday...and that's another thing. I have to decide what I'm going to do there...do I give up the "arrivals" part of the job and just keep doing all the other...do I give it away altogether (virtually impossible considering what I do for G)...do I cut back to say 20 hours of office work a week and pursue "other interests"...or do I just keep plodding along, being tired and cranky at the world.
A girl's gotta do something.
Instalment 11
Final Farewell Sunday August 15
We all just had dinner together in the dining room at the Novotel, Paddington; a three course buffet. I can't believe how much I've eaten over here. The Novotel (and the street it's on) are so new that they don't exist on any maps or GPS finders. I don't know what existed on this site before but it's a great spot and a very, very nice hotel. I don't quite know he we afforded it but it was all in the package.
Four of us went for a walk to Paddington Station; I wanted to find where the Heathrow Express left from (I work so much better and am much less anxious when I can visualise something uncommon) and the others wanted to check out the Underground. The station is not far from our hotel so it will be an easy walk for us tomorrow with our bags. Then we strolled along a canal and checked out all the houseboats moored along the banks. It was so beautiful and peaceful. We walked for an hour and a half then came back for dinner. Gibbo stood up and said a farewell and thankyou to everyone for being so good to travel with and for sharing good times with us. We got lots of hugs and kisses; we feel kind of sad to be leaving everybody.
Monday August 16
Gibbo went to Lords with three others and did the tour, saw the Ashes and (illegally) touched the hallowed turf. Some folk are easily pleased. Meanwhile I wandered through Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens and visited the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain which was very unimpressive and quite disappointing. I couldn't believe the number and variety of dogs in the park - all sorts, all sizes. I visited the Round Lake and admired the swans and other waterbirds then shopped my way back to the hotel to wait for Gibbo to get back.
We had a quick lunch then caught the Heathrow Express to Terminal 1 to begin the long journey home. We were a tad early but may as well have sat out there rather than back at the hotel ( plus there's nothing like being super organized hey?). From the time we got to Heathrow to the time we land, it will be 32 hours.
Tuesday August 17
So we're currently in Singapore, awaiting our Qantas flight to Brisbane. Gibbo just spoke to Lillie and she will pick us up in the morning. Heathrow was very easy to negotiate; our luggage is booked all the way through to Bris so we hope it's there waiting for us. The horror stretch from Frankfurt to Singapore was no better than the first time; worse actually because we didn't get seats together. We were four rows apart and in different aisles. Not long now; another 2 hours until we take off and then 7 hours flying time and we'll be home; and I'll see my kids again!
We all just had dinner together in the dining room at the Novotel, Paddington; a three course buffet. I can't believe how much I've eaten over here. The Novotel (and the street it's on) are so new that they don't exist on any maps or GPS finders. I don't know what existed on this site before but it's a great spot and a very, very nice hotel. I don't quite know he we afforded it but it was all in the package.
Four of us went for a walk to Paddington Station; I wanted to find where the Heathrow Express left from (I work so much better and am much less anxious when I can visualise something uncommon) and the others wanted to check out the Underground. The station is not far from our hotel so it will be an easy walk for us tomorrow with our bags. Then we strolled along a canal and checked out all the houseboats moored along the banks. It was so beautiful and peaceful. We walked for an hour and a half then came back for dinner. Gibbo stood up and said a farewell and thankyou to everyone for being so good to travel with and for sharing good times with us. We got lots of hugs and kisses; we feel kind of sad to be leaving everybody.
Monday August 16
Gibbo went to Lords with three others and did the tour, saw the Ashes and (illegally) touched the hallowed turf. Some folk are easily pleased. Meanwhile I wandered through Hyde Park and Kensington Gardens and visited the Princess Diana Memorial Fountain which was very unimpressive and quite disappointing. I couldn't believe the number and variety of dogs in the park - all sorts, all sizes. I visited the Round Lake and admired the swans and other waterbirds then shopped my way back to the hotel to wait for Gibbo to get back.
We had a quick lunch then caught the Heathrow Express to Terminal 1 to begin the long journey home. We were a tad early but may as well have sat out there rather than back at the hotel ( plus there's nothing like being super organized hey?). From the time we got to Heathrow to the time we land, it will be 32 hours.
Tuesday August 17
So we're currently in Singapore, awaiting our Qantas flight to Brisbane. Gibbo just spoke to Lillie and she will pick us up in the morning. Heathrow was very easy to negotiate; our luggage is booked all the way through to Bris so we hope it's there waiting for us. The horror stretch from Frankfurt to Singapore was no better than the first time; worse actually because we didn't get seats together. We were four rows apart and in different aisles. Not long now; another 2 hours until we take off and then 7 hours flying time and we'll be home; and I'll see my kids again!
Instalment 10
And the winner was.....
CRICKET!!!
So now our time in Yorkshire has come to an end. We had a fabulous time at the closing dinner - the meal was delicious - a prawn and avocado stack for entree, fancy chicken for main and extra sugary creme brulee for dessert.
Geoff Miller was the guest speaker and I hate to admit it - I finally heard some funny stories about cricket, so I've come full circle. He told of facing the real Dennis Lillee at one end and Jeff Thomson at the other with Rodney Marsh behind the stumps in a test in 1979 - I would have been in Grade 12. He told of facing Michael "Whispering Death" Holding in the West Indies in his first test and how he closed his eyes when the first ball came flying down to him. He spoke for about 15 minutes and we laughed a lot.
Then a really appalling Elton John impersonator sang a few songs before a real band came on and played lots of songs from the 70's and 80's which we all knew.
Brother O had a grand night; so grand in fact that he can't remember it although he has some very nice business cards in his wallet to show for it. He only vaguely remembers us carving up the dance floor to Bryan Adams' Summer of '69. We all stood in a circle and clapped as each person did their own little dance in the middle; Gibbo finally got to do the robot dance - the crowd went wild; Steve S did the worm dance but he couldn't get any traction on the floor so he just kind of bounced up and down on the spot on his chest; then someone found a pole so we did the limbo; there was great hilarity. Gibbo wanted to leave but I didn't so Les, the umpire (who's 62 and a real sweetie), got me up on the dance floor and we grooved to Greased Lightning. It was all good fun. We caught the green bus home around 12.30am and rang home to wish Peter a happy 50th birthday. I finally went to sleep around 2 o'clock and woke up at 6.
We're now in London; we've travelled all day to get here and our driver got lost on the way to our hotel. We're about to go downstairs and catch up with the group for our last night together. A few people leave the tour now, including us. We need to work out the best way to get to Heathrow tomorrow and Gibbo wants to go to Lords for a tour (I can't think of anything more boring so I won't be going. I might go to Hyde Park instead).
So we've had a wonderful time; it's gone really fast and we've made some new friends. We look forward to seeing them again some time soon (probably at Chinchilla on September 5 for a XXX game).
We'll head home and get back into the routine of feedlot and school and the trip and all the fun we've had will become a distant memory, albeit a cherished one.
CRICKET!!!
So now our time in Yorkshire has come to an end. We had a fabulous time at the closing dinner - the meal was delicious - a prawn and avocado stack for entree, fancy chicken for main and extra sugary creme brulee for dessert.
Geoff Miller was the guest speaker and I hate to admit it - I finally heard some funny stories about cricket, so I've come full circle. He told of facing the real Dennis Lillee at one end and Jeff Thomson at the other with Rodney Marsh behind the stumps in a test in 1979 - I would have been in Grade 12. He told of facing Michael "Whispering Death" Holding in the West Indies in his first test and how he closed his eyes when the first ball came flying down to him. He spoke for about 15 minutes and we laughed a lot.
Then a really appalling Elton John impersonator sang a few songs before a real band came on and played lots of songs from the 70's and 80's which we all knew.
Brother O had a grand night; so grand in fact that he can't remember it although he has some very nice business cards in his wallet to show for it. He only vaguely remembers us carving up the dance floor to Bryan Adams' Summer of '69. We all stood in a circle and clapped as each person did their own little dance in the middle; Gibbo finally got to do the robot dance - the crowd went wild; Steve S did the worm dance but he couldn't get any traction on the floor so he just kind of bounced up and down on the spot on his chest; then someone found a pole so we did the limbo; there was great hilarity. Gibbo wanted to leave but I didn't so Les, the umpire (who's 62 and a real sweetie), got me up on the dance floor and we grooved to Greased Lightning. It was all good fun. We caught the green bus home around 12.30am and rang home to wish Peter a happy 50th birthday. I finally went to sleep around 2 o'clock and woke up at 6.
We're now in London; we've travelled all day to get here and our driver got lost on the way to our hotel. We're about to go downstairs and catch up with the group for our last night together. A few people leave the tour now, including us. We need to work out the best way to get to Heathrow tomorrow and Gibbo wants to go to Lords for a tour (I can't think of anything more boring so I won't be going. I might go to Hyde Park instead).
So we've had a wonderful time; it's gone really fast and we've made some new friends. We look forward to seeing them again some time soon (probably at Chinchilla on September 5 for a XXX game).
We'll head home and get back into the routine of feedlot and school and the trip and all the fun we've had will become a distant memory, albeit a cherished one.
Instalment 9
West Moor Shorthorns - Saturday August 14
Our friend Ernie got his friend June to look up a couple of contacts for a farm visit. The first person we rang had Aberdeen Angus but wouldn't be able to see us; the second contact had Shorthorns and was able to accommodate us so we went there. We arranged to arrive at 1pm.
Meanwhile, we went into Harrogate to buy a white shirt for Gibbo for the closing dinner. The men have to wear the QCC tie and a jacket; we purchased a lovely little tweed number from St Vinnies in Dalby for $5 and brought it half way around the world. We'll be leaving it behind when we leave.
We hired a private taxi to take us to the farm; while it was reasonably expensive we intend claiming a tax deduction for part of the trip so the cost was worth it.
The farm was up hill and down dale, round the corner, tucked in behind several other farms and over a cattle grid. The driver called it "remote". We asked him to come back for us at 3pm. The owners were very kind, an older couple who's son was away in Scotland, judging Shorthorns. Paula took us for a walk through the fields to see the cattle and sheep. She and Gibbo talked and talked; they both asked each other lots of questions. She couldn't get her head around the land size and cattle numbers of AAco. Everything was again storybook perfect - the stone walls, the sheep, the rustic gates, the barns for shedding the livestock in the winter, Lucy the jack russell - everything. Half the house was 250 years old; the other half was 200 years old! Upon our return, Joe invited us inside to see just what an old Yorkshire sportsman's house looked like. I thought he meant cricket (not more funny stories) - but he actually meant fox and hare hunting. Walking into their hallway we were greeted by a number of mounted otter, fox, deer and hare heads. It was something I'd never seen before - each head had a small plaque attached to the shield, giving details of the Hunt, the date and either the distance travelled or time taken to finally take the quarry. There were photographs and pictures of the men and horses and the dogs all milling around in front of them, anticipating the chase. It was fascinating. There was a hare head taken in 1917 - it ran for 24 miles before it was caught. We sat on the settee in the lounge room and had a cup of tea and biscuits and talked. We gave Paula a black "Wagyu, the marbling breed" apron. The taxi arrived right on time and we set off back to Harrogate after really enjoying our visit.
Gibbo had a sleep and I read while we waited to get ready for the finale - the Grand Final Dinner and the last official function of the festival.
Our friend Ernie got his friend June to look up a couple of contacts for a farm visit. The first person we rang had Aberdeen Angus but wouldn't be able to see us; the second contact had Shorthorns and was able to accommodate us so we went there. We arranged to arrive at 1pm.
Meanwhile, we went into Harrogate to buy a white shirt for Gibbo for the closing dinner. The men have to wear the QCC tie and a jacket; we purchased a lovely little tweed number from St Vinnies in Dalby for $5 and brought it half way around the world. We'll be leaving it behind when we leave.
We hired a private taxi to take us to the farm; while it was reasonably expensive we intend claiming a tax deduction for part of the trip so the cost was worth it.
The farm was up hill and down dale, round the corner, tucked in behind several other farms and over a cattle grid. The driver called it "remote". We asked him to come back for us at 3pm. The owners were very kind, an older couple who's son was away in Scotland, judging Shorthorns. Paula took us for a walk through the fields to see the cattle and sheep. She and Gibbo talked and talked; they both asked each other lots of questions. She couldn't get her head around the land size and cattle numbers of AAco. Everything was again storybook perfect - the stone walls, the sheep, the rustic gates, the barns for shedding the livestock in the winter, Lucy the jack russell - everything. Half the house was 250 years old; the other half was 200 years old! Upon our return, Joe invited us inside to see just what an old Yorkshire sportsman's house looked like. I thought he meant cricket (not more funny stories) - but he actually meant fox and hare hunting. Walking into their hallway we were greeted by a number of mounted otter, fox, deer and hare heads. It was something I'd never seen before - each head had a small plaque attached to the shield, giving details of the Hunt, the date and either the distance travelled or time taken to finally take the quarry. There were photographs and pictures of the men and horses and the dogs all milling around in front of them, anticipating the chase. It was fascinating. There was a hare head taken in 1917 - it ran for 24 miles before it was caught. We sat on the settee in the lounge room and had a cup of tea and biscuits and talked. We gave Paula a black "Wagyu, the marbling breed" apron. The taxi arrived right on time and we set off back to Harrogate after really enjoying our visit.
Gibbo had a sleep and I read while we waited to get ready for the finale - the Grand Final Dinner and the last official function of the festival.
Instalment 8
Game 3 England Friday 13th
I had a hard time deciding what to do today; should I go to the last game of Gibbo's international cricket career and risk being bored all day or should I stay in Harrogate and risk being bored all day? A tough decision. Totally out of character, I made a spontaneous decision and ended up going for the cricket (I know, it's hard to believe isn't it). What really swayed me was when I heard we were joining the other team at their field for a pig on a spit for dinner.
Upon leaving our hotel you would have thought there'd be no way that cricket would get a look-in today; it was cold and grey and windy and raining; a good day for staying at home in front of the fire (if I had one to sit in front of). Gibbo had the same thought so he packed a 1125ml bottle of rum in his bag - but these cricketers are a fanatical mob and will play even in the most appalling conditions.So I found myself sitting in the Alne Cricket Club Pavilion with a steaming cup of tea, chocolate slice, ipad and book. (Les said he umpired a game on Wednesday in rain, sleet and gale force winds).
Because of the weather, the players decided to play a 20/20 match before lunch in case the rain set in and prevented any more play. Harrogate made 92, a fairly achievable total. XXX batted out their 20 overs and made 150. Gibbo made 36 not out so kept his average intact.
Lunch was an incredible spread of slow roasted beef, an array of delicious salads, quiche, hot potatoes and bread rolls. Dessert was three types of crumble - apple; gooseberry, and strawberry. The custard was a deep yellow colour and the thickest I've ever eaten; the spoon stood up in it.
Three of us went for a walk while Harrogate batted in the second 20/20 game. We followed the hedge next to the beck then around to the wooden bridge where we crossed into Whitecarr Ings Wood. Foxes and rabbits live here but we didn't see any although there were plenty of burrows. Then we crossed the stile and turned right towards Rookery Wood. It was like something from Wind in the Willows; just beautiful. Then we then to the village and had a look at the church (which was built between 1120 and 1150).
Upon arriving back at the cricket we found that Harrogate had made 149 which XXX managed to beat with two balls to spare. Gibbo was on the pitch for the final over with Dennis Lillie; he retired on 1, maintaining his unbeaten tour record. In this game XXX reversed the bowling and batting order so everyone had a go.Gibbo bowled 4 overs and picked up his second wicket in England and also took a screamer of a catch at mid on. He's complaining about how sore his hand is; none of them can believe how hard the cricket balls are over here.
Afternoon tea included scones and cream, the likes of which I've never tasted before. The cream had an incredible texture to it; I can't describe it to do it justice. I could have gone and eaten it by the spoonful, it was so delicious.
After more fellowship we boarded the bus and headed to Ousburne to meet up with The Magoos (as the Div 4 team has been rather unkindly nicknamed). They had lost their game to a South African team so team Div 2 now has bragging rights. I didn't stay; I went back to Harrogate on the bus and crawled into bed. I'd had enough cold and wind and blokes and cricket for a day (or a year). It wasn't too late a night for the others; they got back around 9.30pm.
Cricket is everywhere over here; every village seems to have a beautifully manicured cricket field and well appointed clubhouse. I heard that within a two mile radius of one little village there were 14 cricket fields to be found. Old men (and dogs) come out of the woodwork to watch a game. They clap every wicket and well hit shot.
I may have already said it but everything here is so OLD; there's a real sense of history attached wherever you go. I don't recall having the same thoughts when I was here 24 years ago but the tyranny of time may have dimmed my memories. Plus, I was 24 at the time and in a different mindset back then no doubt. The villages in Yorkshire are so quaint and cute and the countryside is just magical; true storybook stuff.
At the end of the day Gibbo ceremoniously, and with a little regret, presented his bat to Sam, a 16 year old keen cricketer, who was overjoyed. The bat has served him well but some things don't last forever and he always had the intention that he'd leave it here in Yorkshire, the home of cricket.
I had a hard time deciding what to do today; should I go to the last game of Gibbo's international cricket career and risk being bored all day or should I stay in Harrogate and risk being bored all day? A tough decision. Totally out of character, I made a spontaneous decision and ended up going for the cricket (I know, it's hard to believe isn't it). What really swayed me was when I heard we were joining the other team at their field for a pig on a spit for dinner.
Upon leaving our hotel you would have thought there'd be no way that cricket would get a look-in today; it was cold and grey and windy and raining; a good day for staying at home in front of the fire (if I had one to sit in front of). Gibbo had the same thought so he packed a 1125ml bottle of rum in his bag - but these cricketers are a fanatical mob and will play even in the most appalling conditions.So I found myself sitting in the Alne Cricket Club Pavilion with a steaming cup of tea, chocolate slice, ipad and book. (Les said he umpired a game on Wednesday in rain, sleet and gale force winds).
Because of the weather, the players decided to play a 20/20 match before lunch in case the rain set in and prevented any more play. Harrogate made 92, a fairly achievable total. XXX batted out their 20 overs and made 150. Gibbo made 36 not out so kept his average intact.
Lunch was an incredible spread of slow roasted beef, an array of delicious salads, quiche, hot potatoes and bread rolls. Dessert was three types of crumble - apple; gooseberry, and strawberry. The custard was a deep yellow colour and the thickest I've ever eaten; the spoon stood up in it.
Three of us went for a walk while Harrogate batted in the second 20/20 game. We followed the hedge next to the beck then around to the wooden bridge where we crossed into Whitecarr Ings Wood. Foxes and rabbits live here but we didn't see any although there were plenty of burrows. Then we crossed the stile and turned right towards Rookery Wood. It was like something from Wind in the Willows; just beautiful. Then we then to the village and had a look at the church (which was built between 1120 and 1150).
Upon arriving back at the cricket we found that Harrogate had made 149 which XXX managed to beat with two balls to spare. Gibbo was on the pitch for the final over with Dennis Lillie; he retired on 1, maintaining his unbeaten tour record. In this game XXX reversed the bowling and batting order so everyone had a go.Gibbo bowled 4 overs and picked up his second wicket in England and also took a screamer of a catch at mid on. He's complaining about how sore his hand is; none of them can believe how hard the cricket balls are over here.
Afternoon tea included scones and cream, the likes of which I've never tasted before. The cream had an incredible texture to it; I can't describe it to do it justice. I could have gone and eaten it by the spoonful, it was so delicious.
After more fellowship we boarded the bus and headed to Ousburne to meet up with The Magoos (as the Div 4 team has been rather unkindly nicknamed). They had lost their game to a South African team so team Div 2 now has bragging rights. I didn't stay; I went back to Harrogate on the bus and crawled into bed. I'd had enough cold and wind and blokes and cricket for a day (or a year). It wasn't too late a night for the others; they got back around 9.30pm.
Cricket is everywhere over here; every village seems to have a beautifully manicured cricket field and well appointed clubhouse. I heard that within a two mile radius of one little village there were 14 cricket fields to be found. Old men (and dogs) come out of the woodwork to watch a game. They clap every wicket and well hit shot.
I may have already said it but everything here is so OLD; there's a real sense of history attached wherever you go. I don't recall having the same thoughts when I was here 24 years ago but the tyranny of time may have dimmed my memories. Plus, I was 24 at the time and in a different mindset back then no doubt. The villages in Yorkshire are so quaint and cute and the countryside is just magical; true storybook stuff.
At the end of the day Gibbo ceremoniously, and with a little regret, presented his bat to Sam, a 16 year old keen cricketer, who was overjoyed. The bat has served him well but some things don't last forever and he always had the intention that he'd leave it here in Yorkshire, the home of cricket.
Instalment 7
York on Thursday August 12
We were over hot breakfasts so had cereal, yoghurt and buns and jam instead; there's only so many hash browns you can eat before they begin to taste like cardboard.
I think Gibbo would have preferred to stay back at the hotel and rest his weary bones but I'd booked and paid for the trip to York before we left so he came along. Plus, I've travelled all this way to watch him play cricket; the least he could do was humor me and do some sightseeing.
After a 40 minute bus ride we arrived and followed our guide to the Boat Ride. We sat up the top and went up and down the river in the pouring rain and sunshine! We quickly put our panchos on; Gibbo wanted to go downstairs but I wanted to stay; you have to experience everything I told him. He just looked at me blankly and shook his head. Rain dripped off the hoods of the panchos; it dribbled down our backs and formed in a pool on our seats. The ride took about 45 minutes then we followed our guide while she showed us where lunch was to be. Then we were free until 4pm.
We found a Collectables Fair and wandered about. I found some pennies from the years of birth of the Brewer family (except Mate's 1935). Gibbo bought a hip flask and three prints of bulls and a butcher shop.
We had a quick lunch at The Pitcher and Piano before making our way through The Shambles, the old part of town, with cobbled streets and overhanging buildings.
From there we walked to York Minster, the massive cathedral that dominates the skyline. We went inside and hid from the rain; we lit a candle each then sat in the chapel to rest his weary knees.
We went and had a pot of tea in a nice little tearoom with blankets on the seats and talked to a couple and their dog, Billy.
As we headed back to catch the bus home we spied a sign that said you could hire self drive boats. Gibbo looked at me and grinned; I had a violent flashback to our trip on the houseboat and ran away, screaming.
Gib snored all the way home and I had to keep digging him in the ribs to wake him up.
We'd planned on having a light dinner but then Tracey rang and asked if we wanted to go to Cattlemans Corner for dinner so we did. Gibbo had a t-bone and I ate a whole rack of pork ribs. He couldn't believe I ate the whole lot; they were delicious and I chewed the bones.
We were over hot breakfasts so had cereal, yoghurt and buns and jam instead; there's only so many hash browns you can eat before they begin to taste like cardboard.
I think Gibbo would have preferred to stay back at the hotel and rest his weary bones but I'd booked and paid for the trip to York before we left so he came along. Plus, I've travelled all this way to watch him play cricket; the least he could do was humor me and do some sightseeing.
After a 40 minute bus ride we arrived and followed our guide to the Boat Ride. We sat up the top and went up and down the river in the pouring rain and sunshine! We quickly put our panchos on; Gibbo wanted to go downstairs but I wanted to stay; you have to experience everything I told him. He just looked at me blankly and shook his head. Rain dripped off the hoods of the panchos; it dribbled down our backs and formed in a pool on our seats. The ride took about 45 minutes then we followed our guide while she showed us where lunch was to be. Then we were free until 4pm.
We found a Collectables Fair and wandered about. I found some pennies from the years of birth of the Brewer family (except Mate's 1935). Gibbo bought a hip flask and three prints of bulls and a butcher shop.
We had a quick lunch at The Pitcher and Piano before making our way through The Shambles, the old part of town, with cobbled streets and overhanging buildings.
From there we walked to York Minster, the massive cathedral that dominates the skyline. We went inside and hid from the rain; we lit a candle each then sat in the chapel to rest his weary knees.
We went and had a pot of tea in a nice little tearoom with blankets on the seats and talked to a couple and their dog, Billy.
As we headed back to catch the bus home we spied a sign that said you could hire self drive boats. Gibbo looked at me and grinned; I had a violent flashback to our trip on the houseboat and ran away, screaming.
Gib snored all the way home and I had to keep digging him in the ribs to wake him up.
We'd planned on having a light dinner but then Tracey rang and asked if we wanted to go to Cattlemans Corner for dinner so we did. Gibbo had a t-bone and I ate a whole rack of pork ribs. He couldn't believe I ate the whole lot; they were delicious and I chewed the bones.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Instalment 6
Game 2 England
You'll all be relieved to know I'm still married. Buying the duck, eating the duck and seeing the duck did not eventuate in a duck on the cricket field. In fact, Gibbo was second top scorer of the day with 39 not out. He was sitting on 33 and knew he'd have to retire in 2 runs time so he just cut loose, went for it and hit a huge 6 to give him 39. No guts, no glory. Actually, he hit it so far that they lost the ball and had to commission a new one. That means he's now 146 runs from 4 games, no average yet because he hasn't been out. He thinks he might have to let the ball hit the stumps on Friday just so he can actually record an average.
Upon arriving at the field the pitch committee inspected the deck and felt that there were runs to be made. XXX batted first. The other team was from Killinghall and the game was played at their home field - except it turned out to be the Killing Fields. XXX made what they thought was a quite respectable score (205). Steve S scored 40, two others scored 36 and 32. Killinghall had an ex-county cricketer playing for them; he bowled screamers at 140 km/h. The boys did a bit of ducking and weaving (there's that duck word again).
Lunch was an unbelievable spread and may have contributed to the final result.
XXX's premier strike force bowler, who always opens, was hit for 6 off the third ball of the first over, a straight drive back over the sight screen into the wind. Things didn't improve much from that point on. KHall had 5 players retired before XXX got their first wicket. Big Chissa finally hit the stumps and sent the middle peg cartwheeling toward the wicketkeeper. The XXX boys went berserk, finally having a wicket to celebrate. With 15 runs needed to win, the Master Blaster was called into action (Gibbie). He took a wicket in his first over. During his next over the opposition hit the winning runs off him. The game was finished with 12 overs to spare. A crushing defeat.
They later found out that KHall had 3 underage players and 3 former County players. Everyone was saying in the dressing shed after the game that they'd never been so comprehensively beaten in their careers. Dennis Lillie reckons the best ball he bowled all day went screaming past his head at a million miles an hour for a six. Chissa couldn't believe that every time he got the ball to start a new over, it had a different colour on it from all the rooftops it had landed on.
Due to the early finish the boys were in the bar by 1/4 to 4 and drank the clubhouse dry of tap beer and almost finished the bottled beer. Drowning their sorrows. A timely lesson in humility.
The only good thing about the day, cricket wise, was that Team Div 4 lost as well. The two teams play at different grounds so meeting up in the bar back at our hotel each game night is a bit of a laugh. Everyone is keen to see who is wearing the Yellow Duck proudly around their neck and who has won the Butterfingers glove. They cop heaps of friendly abuse.
Stewy, who plays in Team Div 4, was seconded to play for the opposition yesterday - and won their man of the match award. He opened the batting and scored a handy 28 which helped the other team beat his own team (they lost by 3). He also copped plenty of abuse, not all of it friendly!
Meanwhile, I went off on the steam train trip to Goathland, which is the village used for the filming of Heartbeat and part of Harry Potter 1. We were only there for a short time then we bussed to Whitby, a beautiful, quaint seaside town. It was exactly as you see in books and on tv. I was very taken with the atmosphere - the buildings and boats and seagulls and fishing pots; kids dropped lines over the edge of the wharf and tried to catch a fish or two. I took a walk to the old part of town, with its' narrow cobbled streets and little alleyways. Charming. I didn't have the recommended fish and chips, I grabbed a cornish pasty at a bakery and ate as I walked; as we were on a time limit I didn't want to waste it by sitting and eating. The only downside was the crowds of people; everywhere was packed with men, women, kids, dogs, prams etc. In some places you could hardly move. Captain Cook left from Whitby on his voyage to eventually discover Australia. Of course there's a pub called The Endeavour. I fell asleep on the bus on the way back and woke up 5 minutes from the hotel.
We rang home yesterday morning; the kids were at Mums. Drew asked me "Guess where I spent half the day?". I didn't really know what he was getting at, I figured he must have gone somewhere with school. Ah, no....he'd been at the HOSPITAL. I knew he was ok because he was laughing about it but I still went cold and clammy. He had been mucking around kicking his leg up in the air and the top of his foot connected with a steel bar on a desk. The office girls looked after him with ice and sympathy and his friends' Mum came and picked him up and took him out to the hospital for an x-ray. The doctor and x-ray man were both fathers of friends of his so he was in good hands. No bones were broken but it's pretty sore.
It's Thursday morning; Gibbo can hardly walk after the game yesterday. We're booked on a trip to York that includes a 45 minutes river cruise and a two course buffet lunch in the private dining room at the Pitcher and Piano. I think I may need to park hubby on a bench seat (or in a pub) so that I can go off exploring. He won't be up to a big day of walking.
You'll all be relieved to know I'm still married. Buying the duck, eating the duck and seeing the duck did not eventuate in a duck on the cricket field. In fact, Gibbo was second top scorer of the day with 39 not out. He was sitting on 33 and knew he'd have to retire in 2 runs time so he just cut loose, went for it and hit a huge 6 to give him 39. No guts, no glory. Actually, he hit it so far that they lost the ball and had to commission a new one. That means he's now 146 runs from 4 games, no average yet because he hasn't been out. He thinks he might have to let the ball hit the stumps on Friday just so he can actually record an average.
Upon arriving at the field the pitch committee inspected the deck and felt that there were runs to be made. XXX batted first. The other team was from Killinghall and the game was played at their home field - except it turned out to be the Killing Fields. XXX made what they thought was a quite respectable score (205). Steve S scored 40, two others scored 36 and 32. Killinghall had an ex-county cricketer playing for them; he bowled screamers at 140 km/h. The boys did a bit of ducking and weaving (there's that duck word again).
Lunch was an unbelievable spread and may have contributed to the final result.
XXX's premier strike force bowler, who always opens, was hit for 6 off the third ball of the first over, a straight drive back over the sight screen into the wind. Things didn't improve much from that point on. KHall had 5 players retired before XXX got their first wicket. Big Chissa finally hit the stumps and sent the middle peg cartwheeling toward the wicketkeeper. The XXX boys went berserk, finally having a wicket to celebrate. With 15 runs needed to win, the Master Blaster was called into action (Gibbie). He took a wicket in his first over. During his next over the opposition hit the winning runs off him. The game was finished with 12 overs to spare. A crushing defeat.
They later found out that KHall had 3 underage players and 3 former County players. Everyone was saying in the dressing shed after the game that they'd never been so comprehensively beaten in their careers. Dennis Lillie reckons the best ball he bowled all day went screaming past his head at a million miles an hour for a six. Chissa couldn't believe that every time he got the ball to start a new over, it had a different colour on it from all the rooftops it had landed on.
Due to the early finish the boys were in the bar by 1/4 to 4 and drank the clubhouse dry of tap beer and almost finished the bottled beer. Drowning their sorrows. A timely lesson in humility.
The only good thing about the day, cricket wise, was that Team Div 4 lost as well. The two teams play at different grounds so meeting up in the bar back at our hotel each game night is a bit of a laugh. Everyone is keen to see who is wearing the Yellow Duck proudly around their neck and who has won the Butterfingers glove. They cop heaps of friendly abuse.
Stewy, who plays in Team Div 4, was seconded to play for the opposition yesterday - and won their man of the match award. He opened the batting and scored a handy 28 which helped the other team beat his own team (they lost by 3). He also copped plenty of abuse, not all of it friendly!
Meanwhile, I went off on the steam train trip to Goathland, which is the village used for the filming of Heartbeat and part of Harry Potter 1. We were only there for a short time then we bussed to Whitby, a beautiful, quaint seaside town. It was exactly as you see in books and on tv. I was very taken with the atmosphere - the buildings and boats and seagulls and fishing pots; kids dropped lines over the edge of the wharf and tried to catch a fish or two. I took a walk to the old part of town, with its' narrow cobbled streets and little alleyways. Charming. I didn't have the recommended fish and chips, I grabbed a cornish pasty at a bakery and ate as I walked; as we were on a time limit I didn't want to waste it by sitting and eating. The only downside was the crowds of people; everywhere was packed with men, women, kids, dogs, prams etc. In some places you could hardly move. Captain Cook left from Whitby on his voyage to eventually discover Australia. Of course there's a pub called The Endeavour. I fell asleep on the bus on the way back and woke up 5 minutes from the hotel.
We rang home yesterday morning; the kids were at Mums. Drew asked me "Guess where I spent half the day?". I didn't really know what he was getting at, I figured he must have gone somewhere with school. Ah, no....he'd been at the HOSPITAL. I knew he was ok because he was laughing about it but I still went cold and clammy. He had been mucking around kicking his leg up in the air and the top of his foot connected with a steel bar on a desk. The office girls looked after him with ice and sympathy and his friends' Mum came and picked him up and took him out to the hospital for an x-ray. The doctor and x-ray man were both fathers of friends of his so he was in good hands. No bones were broken but it's pretty sore.
It's Thursday morning; Gibbo can hardly walk after the game yesterday. We're booked on a trip to York that includes a 45 minutes river cruise and a two course buffet lunch in the private dining room at the Pitcher and Piano. I think I may need to park hubby on a bench seat (or in a pub) so that I can go off exploring. He won't be up to a big day of walking.
Instalment 5
Picnic at Ripley Castle
We actually slept until 7 this morning which made a nice change.
One of the team leaders came to our room this morning and got me to send a scripted email back to the XXX Ceicketers Club to keep them informed of the progress of the touring party. His email was nothing like my emails!
We left Cedar Court with the sky looking dark grey and ominous. We arrived at Ripley Castle to blue sky and bright sunshine. Four seasons in one day.
The picnic hampers were excellent. They were presented in a black chiffon drawstring bag; one bloke, who's obviously missing his wife back home, suggested they could later be used as lingerie. A couple of the girls stuck them on their heads and looked quite stylish. The meal consisted of three cold meats, salad, mustard dressing, potato salad, boiled egg and cous cous as well as a bread roll and cheesecake dessert. We all sat at two long tables and enjoyed each others' company.
Gibbo bought a festival t-shirt and a tankard to drink warm beer and wine from. I went to the toilet and ended up in the mens. Didn't realize until I heard all these male voices and farting.
We had the official team photo taken all together then players only. The WAGs went off to the side and had their own unofficial photo. We numbered 11, enough to make our own cricket team.
Gibbo had a go at the welly wangling competition but his boot ended up on top of the tent. His technique was all wrong. Then he tried the horseshoe throwing; then the longbow and crossbow. I missed all that as I was watching the jousting show and having my photo taken with a falcon.
The jousting show was excellent; the Black Knight got boo-ed of course. The Green Knight (a girl) was a trick rider and would fall to the side and almost drag on the ground when she was hit by the lance. There was fighting with flaming chain balls and sword fighting as well. The Blue Knight was the victor and carried off the Gold Cup.
The Falconry Display was good but I didn't stay long. I went up to have a look at the Castle; it would be tough having to wake up to that view every day. I bought a drawing at the gift shop; a picture of a beautiful, fat mallard duck. I wandered back to the crew and proudly pulled it out to show Gibbo....and after a moment of silence, everyone burst out laughing...and then it suddenly dawned on me. How could I be so stupid...it's a DUCK...we're at a cricket tournament...he hasn't been out yet in the three games he's played.....i bought a picture of a DUCK...when I was choosing which picture to buy it didn't occur to me that it was a DUCK; to me it was just the nicest one there! He was horrified but everyone else thought it was hilarious. They keep going "quack, quack, quack" at him in a nasally voice.
We arrived home about 5pm, checked emails then four of us headed off into town and had dinner at a chinese restaurant...and guess what the second course was....it was bloody Peking DUCK....I kid you not. Then on the way home, we walked past a gift shop and in the window was a row of....DUCKS...and not just one or two...there would have been 20 of them, all different colours and sizes. Gibbo wouldn't look at them. He reckons he's not superstitious but he is. Won't it be terrible if he does get a duck tomorrow hey? At least I won't be there to see it - I'm off on a steam train trip to see where parts of Heartbeat and Harry Potter 1 are/were filmed.
It's 11.20pm and I'm tired; off to bed to read for 5 minutes then hopefully to sleep.
Take care all and I'll let you know if there's a DUCK tomorrow (and if I'm still married),
Love
M
We actually slept until 7 this morning which made a nice change.
One of the team leaders came to our room this morning and got me to send a scripted email back to the XXX Ceicketers Club to keep them informed of the progress of the touring party. His email was nothing like my emails!
We left Cedar Court with the sky looking dark grey and ominous. We arrived at Ripley Castle to blue sky and bright sunshine. Four seasons in one day.
The picnic hampers were excellent. They were presented in a black chiffon drawstring bag; one bloke, who's obviously missing his wife back home, suggested they could later be used as lingerie. A couple of the girls stuck them on their heads and looked quite stylish. The meal consisted of three cold meats, salad, mustard dressing, potato salad, boiled egg and cous cous as well as a bread roll and cheesecake dessert. We all sat at two long tables and enjoyed each others' company.
Gibbo bought a festival t-shirt and a tankard to drink warm beer and wine from. I went to the toilet and ended up in the mens. Didn't realize until I heard all these male voices and farting.
We had the official team photo taken all together then players only. The WAGs went off to the side and had their own unofficial photo. We numbered 11, enough to make our own cricket team.
Gibbo had a go at the welly wangling competition but his boot ended up on top of the tent. His technique was all wrong. Then he tried the horseshoe throwing; then the longbow and crossbow. I missed all that as I was watching the jousting show and having my photo taken with a falcon.
The jousting show was excellent; the Black Knight got boo-ed of course. The Green Knight (a girl) was a trick rider and would fall to the side and almost drag on the ground when she was hit by the lance. There was fighting with flaming chain balls and sword fighting as well. The Blue Knight was the victor and carried off the Gold Cup.
The Falconry Display was good but I didn't stay long. I went up to have a look at the Castle; it would be tough having to wake up to that view every day. I bought a drawing at the gift shop; a picture of a beautiful, fat mallard duck. I wandered back to the crew and proudly pulled it out to show Gibbo....and after a moment of silence, everyone burst out laughing...and then it suddenly dawned on me. How could I be so stupid...it's a DUCK...we're at a cricket tournament...he hasn't been out yet in the three games he's played.....i bought a picture of a DUCK...when I was choosing which picture to buy it didn't occur to me that it was a DUCK; to me it was just the nicest one there! He was horrified but everyone else thought it was hilarious. They keep going "quack, quack, quack" at him in a nasally voice.
We arrived home about 5pm, checked emails then four of us headed off into town and had dinner at a chinese restaurant...and guess what the second course was....it was bloody Peking DUCK....I kid you not. Then on the way home, we walked past a gift shop and in the window was a row of....DUCKS...and not just one or two...there would have been 20 of them, all different colours and sizes. Gibbo wouldn't look at them. He reckons he's not superstitious but he is. Won't it be terrible if he does get a duck tomorrow hey? At least I won't be there to see it - I'm off on a steam train trip to see where parts of Heartbeat and Harry Potter 1 are/were filmed.
It's 11.20pm and I'm tired; off to bed to read for 5 minutes then hopefully to sleep.
Take care all and I'll let you know if there's a DUCK tomorrow (and if I'm still married),
Love
M
Instalment 4
Game 1 in England
We just got a text message from home that read:
"Dear Parents. Please advise if you are alive. Regards, Megan and Drew". They hadn't heard from us for 24 hours and thought there may have been a coup and wondered if the Div 4 team had taken out the Div 2 team.
The march past was everything I thought it would be. We straggled like browns cows around the town square (twice) then peeled off up a lane way to Theakstons Brewery where several hundred people tried to fit into a space that could barely accommodate half that many. Before the straggling started, the official welcome and speeches were held. There's 850 players in 58 teams from 7 countries. As each country was welcomed we all had to cheer loudly. There's ONE player here from Japan - he's a team on his own (but will play with the Australian Sri Lankans). He got an enormous cheer and Gibbo had his photo taken with him. The South Africans brought vuvuzelas and are likely to get them jammed somewhere unfortunate before the festival is over. The Aussies all went "baa baa" when the Kiwis were announced. There was friendly rivalry.
Once we were inside the brewery grounds we weren't allowed out; if you left, you couldn't get back in. I thought I was at a Blue Light Disco. It was difficult to get any of the finger food due to the crowd so Gibbo positioned himself near the kitchen area and hijacked food as it went by. We managed a lamb chop, a small sausage and a goat cheese and onion tartlet each. The boys reckoned you could eat the beer, it was that bad, so Gibbo switched to white wine.
Entertainment was provided by The Bogtrotters; another great show. I dragged Gibbo up and, once again, wouldn't let him leave; he worked up quite a sweat. At least he didn't do the robot dance this time, not like at Debra's wedding. The band reminded me of The Bushwackers in their early years - Peter, remember when we went and saw them at the refec at USQ when we were probably 20 and 22 and you kept yelling out "Stringybark Creek" and Louis McManus (I think it was) kept telling you to f*** off? Well that's what this band was like. Brilliant. They played a lot of traditional music but they also played some other greats eg Copperhead Road, Garden Party, Johnny B Goode, Brown Eyed Girl and Sweet Home Alabama. The joint was really jumping!
We found the right bus to take us home (the green route hey kids?). I kept asking Gibbo which one we needed to be on; he kept saying red. I may end up losing him by the time the week is over although the official name tags are green so if he keeps looking at that, he reckons he'll be ok.
Brian from Kingaroy told us this morning at breakfast that, when Gibbo and I stand beside each other, you can tell who gets the food in our house. A little harsh I thought.
Dennis (Lillie) reckons that you need to have a pretty thick skin to be in our team; any SNAGs would be crying in the toilet by now. He said he didn't know any SNAGs; I said I didn't either.
We walked into Harrogate this morning to have a quick look around before Gibbo's debut in England. We bought him a new pair of sandshoes (as you might remember, he packed Drew's old ones and they don't fit him). We also bought him some new sox and jocks because he's exhausted his supply; we bundled up the dirty washing and gave it to housekeeping. It will be freshly laundered and returned to our room with an exorbitant bill.
We assembled on the bus at 11am and set off to play Walton at Walton. 217 people live in the village. On the way there we were laughing about how some of the girls could get involved; I could be a runner for a broken down golden oldie; Tracey could do a bit of leg spin and Jenny might be quick in the outfield. Don't laugh; it nearly happened.
The village folk met us off the bus and we settled in. The QCC boys won the toss and elected to bat; a wise choice. By over 11, I was over it. To cut a long story short, Gibbo went in at no. 4 - and the very first ball he hits in England is a FOUR - lifted his head, swung the bat wildly and the ball tore to the boundary. Exciting stuff. I walked around the boundary and fielded a ball over the rope. A few shots later he hit the first six of the day. He ended up scoring 36 retired. The rain/mist/showers came and went all day and only chased the players off the pitch once. QCC made 216 off 38.2 overs (finished slightly early due to the weather).
Lunch was provided by some of the local women. One of our guys (Gibbo calls him Dougal/Duncan but his real name is Steve) pulled a calf muscle halfway through our innings, leaving the team one player short. After much cajoling I was seconded into the team; true story; I ended up on the field but not for long. While they went to get me a white vest to play in, the other team said they'd cover for him so I was fairly relieved at that. Wouldn't that have been a hoot; Gibbie and me playing cricket together in England. And I do so love the game.
So the XXX boys went out to field...blah...blah...blah. Up, down, in, out, dubious appeals for lbw..you know how it goes. The girls and I walked up the hill to the local church and then to The Fox and Hound but it wasn't open. We went back. They were still playing. Gibbo ran somebody out but I missed it. I was reading. Apparently he fielded the ball and raced the batsman to the wicket; when he realized he wasn't going to get there first he threw the ball and miraculously knocked the bails off. Stirling stuff.
Things actually got a bit tense in the final few overs. I hate to admit it, but I felt a bit nervous - adrenalin, cricket and Maryanne don't really go together. With 7 balls to go, Walton needed 9 runs to tie; with 5 balls to go, they needed 7. With 2 balls to go they needed 3 - and on the second last ball, the XXX captain (not Gibbo, he hasn't paid his $250 yet) bowled the batsman. A timely wicket. The last ball didn't produce a run. Final score for Walton - 213 - so QCC won by 3. A famous victory.
Team Div 4 won their game too although the margin was slightly bigger. They scored 275 and their opposition scored 145. It was a good thing that Team Div 2 won; not sure if they could have handled the sledging otherwise. There's plenty of banter back and forward.
Before we left home I had been joking about there surely being a duckpond beside a cricket field somewhere in England that I could throw the Blackberry in to. Well guess what - right beside the Walton Cricket Club field is a beautiful duckpond.
Tomorrow there isn't any cricket - we're going to a Medieval Picnic Day at Ripley Castle. The beer tent opens at 12 noon from which a selection of beer, lager, red and white wine as well as soft drinks will be available. Throughout the day there will be demonstrations of longbow and crossbow shooting; a Knights of the Damned Jousting Display team in the main arena; Ye Olde Redtail Falconry display (similar to Ye Olde Greenbank Falconry display hey?) and the Casablanca Boys entertaining us. We exchange our invitation for a picnic box containing cold meats, salads, bread and butter and dessert. Should be fun.
I think the photos I send are coming through fairly large; sorry about that. The ipad doesn't reduce them as much as the pc does.
Love to all
M
We just got a text message from home that read:
"Dear Parents. Please advise if you are alive. Regards, Megan and Drew". They hadn't heard from us for 24 hours and thought there may have been a coup and wondered if the Div 4 team had taken out the Div 2 team.
The march past was everything I thought it would be. We straggled like browns cows around the town square (twice) then peeled off up a lane way to Theakstons Brewery where several hundred people tried to fit into a space that could barely accommodate half that many. Before the straggling started, the official welcome and speeches were held. There's 850 players in 58 teams from 7 countries. As each country was welcomed we all had to cheer loudly. There's ONE player here from Japan - he's a team on his own (but will play with the Australian Sri Lankans). He got an enormous cheer and Gibbo had his photo taken with him. The South Africans brought vuvuzelas and are likely to get them jammed somewhere unfortunate before the festival is over. The Aussies all went "baa baa" when the Kiwis were announced. There was friendly rivalry.
Once we were inside the brewery grounds we weren't allowed out; if you left, you couldn't get back in. I thought I was at a Blue Light Disco. It was difficult to get any of the finger food due to the crowd so Gibbo positioned himself near the kitchen area and hijacked food as it went by. We managed a lamb chop, a small sausage and a goat cheese and onion tartlet each. The boys reckoned you could eat the beer, it was that bad, so Gibbo switched to white wine.
Entertainment was provided by The Bogtrotters; another great show. I dragged Gibbo up and, once again, wouldn't let him leave; he worked up quite a sweat. At least he didn't do the robot dance this time, not like at Debra's wedding. The band reminded me of The Bushwackers in their early years - Peter, remember when we went and saw them at the refec at USQ when we were probably 20 and 22 and you kept yelling out "Stringybark Creek" and Louis McManus (I think it was) kept telling you to f*** off? Well that's what this band was like. Brilliant. They played a lot of traditional music but they also played some other greats eg Copperhead Road, Garden Party, Johnny B Goode, Brown Eyed Girl and Sweet Home Alabama. The joint was really jumping!
We found the right bus to take us home (the green route hey kids?). I kept asking Gibbo which one we needed to be on; he kept saying red. I may end up losing him by the time the week is over although the official name tags are green so if he keeps looking at that, he reckons he'll be ok.
Brian from Kingaroy told us this morning at breakfast that, when Gibbo and I stand beside each other, you can tell who gets the food in our house. A little harsh I thought.
Dennis (Lillie) reckons that you need to have a pretty thick skin to be in our team; any SNAGs would be crying in the toilet by now. He said he didn't know any SNAGs; I said I didn't either.
We walked into Harrogate this morning to have a quick look around before Gibbo's debut in England. We bought him a new pair of sandshoes (as you might remember, he packed Drew's old ones and they don't fit him). We also bought him some new sox and jocks because he's exhausted his supply; we bundled up the dirty washing and gave it to housekeeping. It will be freshly laundered and returned to our room with an exorbitant bill.
We assembled on the bus at 11am and set off to play Walton at Walton. 217 people live in the village. On the way there we were laughing about how some of the girls could get involved; I could be a runner for a broken down golden oldie; Tracey could do a bit of leg spin and Jenny might be quick in the outfield. Don't laugh; it nearly happened.
The village folk met us off the bus and we settled in. The QCC boys won the toss and elected to bat; a wise choice. By over 11, I was over it. To cut a long story short, Gibbo went in at no. 4 - and the very first ball he hits in England is a FOUR - lifted his head, swung the bat wildly and the ball tore to the boundary. Exciting stuff. I walked around the boundary and fielded a ball over the rope. A few shots later he hit the first six of the day. He ended up scoring 36 retired. The rain/mist/showers came and went all day and only chased the players off the pitch once. QCC made 216 off 38.2 overs (finished slightly early due to the weather).
Lunch was provided by some of the local women. One of our guys (Gibbo calls him Dougal/Duncan but his real name is Steve) pulled a calf muscle halfway through our innings, leaving the team one player short. After much cajoling I was seconded into the team; true story; I ended up on the field but not for long. While they went to get me a white vest to play in, the other team said they'd cover for him so I was fairly relieved at that. Wouldn't that have been a hoot; Gibbie and me playing cricket together in England. And I do so love the game.
So the XXX boys went out to field...blah...blah...blah. Up, down, in, out, dubious appeals for lbw..you know how it goes. The girls and I walked up the hill to the local church and then to The Fox and Hound but it wasn't open. We went back. They were still playing. Gibbo ran somebody out but I missed it. I was reading. Apparently he fielded the ball and raced the batsman to the wicket; when he realized he wasn't going to get there first he threw the ball and miraculously knocked the bails off. Stirling stuff.
Things actually got a bit tense in the final few overs. I hate to admit it, but I felt a bit nervous - adrenalin, cricket and Maryanne don't really go together. With 7 balls to go, Walton needed 9 runs to tie; with 5 balls to go, they needed 7. With 2 balls to go they needed 3 - and on the second last ball, the XXX captain (not Gibbo, he hasn't paid his $250 yet) bowled the batsman. A timely wicket. The last ball didn't produce a run. Final score for Walton - 213 - so QCC won by 3. A famous victory.
Team Div 4 won their game too although the margin was slightly bigger. They scored 275 and their opposition scored 145. It was a good thing that Team Div 2 won; not sure if they could have handled the sledging otherwise. There's plenty of banter back and forward.
Before we left home I had been joking about there surely being a duckpond beside a cricket field somewhere in England that I could throw the Blackberry in to. Well guess what - right beside the Walton Cricket Club field is a beautiful duckpond.
Tomorrow there isn't any cricket - we're going to a Medieval Picnic Day at Ripley Castle. The beer tent opens at 12 noon from which a selection of beer, lager, red and white wine as well as soft drinks will be available. Throughout the day there will be demonstrations of longbow and crossbow shooting; a Knights of the Damned Jousting Display team in the main arena; Ye Olde Redtail Falconry display (similar to Ye Olde Greenbank Falconry display hey?) and the Casablanca Boys entertaining us. We exchange our invitation for a picnic box containing cold meats, salads, bread and butter and dessert. Should be fun.
I think the photos I send are coming through fairly large; sorry about that. The ipad doesn't reduce them as much as the pc does.
Love to all
M
Instalment 3
We've Made it to England
We spent our last morning in Ireland trekking to Davey Byrnes pub (recommended to us by someone at home) and I wanted to go back to the Gaiety Theatre and get some photos of the Riverdance banners. Then we spent half an hour arguing over which t-shirts to buy and what sizes would fit the intended recipients. Sorry if your shirt doesn't fit; it's Gibbo's fault. I bought a nice pair of earrings called The Triskele, supposed to mean Creativity, Healing and Growth. I hope they work. Actually, Gibbo chose them; is he trying to tell me something?
The flight over only took 40 minutes; coming in over Manchester was beautiful; so green and so many trees. We picked up our luggage and just walked out of the airport; no passport checks or anything. Must be something to do with being EU although I thought there would have been at least some checkpoint to pass through.
Someone asked me this morning if I was a nurse (because people keep coming and asking me things like "how do I phone home"; "I can't get my phone to work", "how do I log out of this" and "could you help me, my contact lens seems to have folded over in my eye and I can't locate it" - I sent Dr. Spock (Gibbo) off to do that one. I told the guy who asked - "No I'm not a nurse, I'm a Professional Carer, ie I'm a Mother". I asked him why he had asked and he said "people keep coming to you and asking you things".
There's a little bit of intrigue growing in the camp - some jockeying for positions in the Div 2 team and Div 4 team. It's fascinating (better than watching the actual game). I can see the headlines now - "XXX Golden Oldies Camp Splits". One school of thought is that the strongest possible team should be in Div 2 and the rest be left to wallow in Div 4 with the "social" cricketers. The other school of thought is that the two teams should be evenly split on ability, therefore giving XXX the potential to win all six games and upholding the untarnished reputation of the Club. There was a lot of backroom dealing going on last night; it was reminiscent of Julia and Kevin. There was a players meeting held this morning where a decision was made - women were denied a vote. I wanted to protest at that but was over-ruled. I would have made a great suffragette. Emmeline Gibbons has a nice ring to it. Gibbo has been working the floor, paying bribes and sucking up to the right people. He thought if he played his cards right he could manoeuver himself into a captains role but I think they're keeping those for actual members of the XXX (of which he is not, at least not until he pays $250. Wouldn't that be money well spent?).
So in the end it was decided that Ross, Dennis, Eddie and Brian would be the selectors. They are going to pick one strong team and one weaker team. Gibbo has already paid them so he should be right. One proviso is that, if a player fails in Div 2 he could be dropped to Div 4 with the great unwashed and vice versa - so one could bounce from one team to the other. My opinion was that all the best players should be in the same team and leave the rest to themselves - just like rep netball in Grade 7 at St. C but no-one cared for my view on it. I found it fascinating to listen to some of the reasoning behind it all last night; it's been the second best part of the trip so far (after Riverdance and the Irish music night). We kept coming up with new headlines which became progressively more outrageous. I think the final one was "Blood Spilt in XXX Camp Over Selection Process; Half of Squad Packs up Bat and Ball and Heads Home". Now we're really getting some funny stories. Gentlemen's Game - no way.
There's actually three ex-Qld players in the squad and one of them goes by the name of Dennis Lillie - no kidding, that's his name. The average age of the teams is mid-50's so Gibbo is way under the average, although only the youngest by a year; there's an accountant from the coast who is 44.
Hello, the teams are about to be read out (we're on the bus to Harrogate). Here we go. Yeess, he's in Team 1; it was worth the extra cost.
I can't wait for the march past at the Opening Ceremony tonight. The last time I participated in a march past was at the athletics carnival when I was 16 and in Grade 12. I was House Captain and I guess I carried the flag, can't really remember now. Not sure if we've brought a flag with us; I hope not.
We haven't seen a cow for a week; yesterday we caught a glimpse of some herefords in a field but they don't really count. Actually, we've hardly seen any animals - there was one cat in Singapore; a couple of dogs in Dublin and not much else - and no flies. I haven't seen a fly since we left home.
I had a great cup of tea this morning; best one so far. Breakfast was held in a beautiful room; we chose a table in a bay window. Photo to follow.
That's it for now; I know these are long emails but it's fun to record the little things.
Love to all
M
PS - We're at the Cedar Court Hotel in Harrogate, waiting to get into our room. The bus leaves here at 3.45pm for Theakstons Brewery and four hours of unlimited beer, wine and soft drink. The fun begins.
We spent our last morning in Ireland trekking to Davey Byrnes pub (recommended to us by someone at home) and I wanted to go back to the Gaiety Theatre and get some photos of the Riverdance banners. Then we spent half an hour arguing over which t-shirts to buy and what sizes would fit the intended recipients. Sorry if your shirt doesn't fit; it's Gibbo's fault. I bought a nice pair of earrings called The Triskele, supposed to mean Creativity, Healing and Growth. I hope they work. Actually, Gibbo chose them; is he trying to tell me something?
The flight over only took 40 minutes; coming in over Manchester was beautiful; so green and so many trees. We picked up our luggage and just walked out of the airport; no passport checks or anything. Must be something to do with being EU although I thought there would have been at least some checkpoint to pass through.
Someone asked me this morning if I was a nurse (because people keep coming and asking me things like "how do I phone home"; "I can't get my phone to work", "how do I log out of this" and "could you help me, my contact lens seems to have folded over in my eye and I can't locate it" - I sent Dr. Spock (Gibbo) off to do that one. I told the guy who asked - "No I'm not a nurse, I'm a Professional Carer, ie I'm a Mother". I asked him why he had asked and he said "people keep coming to you and asking you things".
There's a little bit of intrigue growing in the camp - some jockeying for positions in the Div 2 team and Div 4 team. It's fascinating (better than watching the actual game). I can see the headlines now - "XXX Golden Oldies Camp Splits". One school of thought is that the strongest possible team should be in Div 2 and the rest be left to wallow in Div 4 with the "social" cricketers. The other school of thought is that the two teams should be evenly split on ability, therefore giving XXX the potential to win all six games and upholding the untarnished reputation of the Club. There was a lot of backroom dealing going on last night; it was reminiscent of Julia and Kevin. There was a players meeting held this morning where a decision was made - women were denied a vote. I wanted to protest at that but was over-ruled. I would have made a great suffragette. Emmeline Gibbons has a nice ring to it. Gibbo has been working the floor, paying bribes and sucking up to the right people. He thought if he played his cards right he could manoeuver himself into a captains role but I think they're keeping those for actual members of the XXX (of which he is not, at least not until he pays $250. Wouldn't that be money well spent?).
So in the end it was decided that Ross, Dennis, Eddie and Brian would be the selectors. They are going to pick one strong team and one weaker team. Gibbo has already paid them so he should be right. One proviso is that, if a player fails in Div 2 he could be dropped to Div 4 with the great unwashed and vice versa - so one could bounce from one team to the other. My opinion was that all the best players should be in the same team and leave the rest to themselves - just like rep netball in Grade 7 at St. C but no-one cared for my view on it. I found it fascinating to listen to some of the reasoning behind it all last night; it's been the second best part of the trip so far (after Riverdance and the Irish music night). We kept coming up with new headlines which became progressively more outrageous. I think the final one was "Blood Spilt in XXX Camp Over Selection Process; Half of Squad Packs up Bat and Ball and Heads Home". Now we're really getting some funny stories. Gentlemen's Game - no way.
There's actually three ex-Qld players in the squad and one of them goes by the name of Dennis Lillie - no kidding, that's his name. The average age of the teams is mid-50's so Gibbo is way under the average, although only the youngest by a year; there's an accountant from the coast who is 44.
Hello, the teams are about to be read out (we're on the bus to Harrogate). Here we go. Yeess, he's in Team 1; it was worth the extra cost.
I can't wait for the march past at the Opening Ceremony tonight. The last time I participated in a march past was at the athletics carnival when I was 16 and in Grade 12. I was House Captain and I guess I carried the flag, can't really remember now. Not sure if we've brought a flag with us; I hope not.
We haven't seen a cow for a week; yesterday we caught a glimpse of some herefords in a field but they don't really count. Actually, we've hardly seen any animals - there was one cat in Singapore; a couple of dogs in Dublin and not much else - and no flies. I haven't seen a fly since we left home.
I had a great cup of tea this morning; best one so far. Breakfast was held in a beautiful room; we chose a table in a bay window. Photo to follow.
That's it for now; I know these are long emails but it's fun to record the little things.
Love to all
M
PS - We're at the Cedar Court Hotel in Harrogate, waiting to get into our room. The bus leaves here at 3.45pm for Theakstons Brewery and four hours of unlimited beer, wine and soft drink. The fun begins.
Instalment 2
Singapore to Frankfurt and Beyond
The flight from Singapore to Frankfurt is now just a blur. We took off at 11.30pm, jammed in like sardines. We ate and dozed and tried to be a little bit comfortable but weren't. For the final hour and a half we watched the Miley Cyrus movie which at least passed the time. Gibbo really enjoyed it!
We landed in Frankfurt at 5.30am, local time. The flight ended up being 11 and 1/2 hours. Our flight to Dublin didn't leave for another 5 or so hours so we all descended on a bar; some ordered beers, some ordered coffees, some played cards.
There was some confusion as to how we actually had to proceed to/through transit; it all worked itself out.
The plane to Ireland was very spacious in comparison to our previous flight. It took an hour 40 to get here; then another hour or so in the terminal while we waited for one couples' luggage to arrive; it didn't. It was still in Frankfurt.
We went for a quick walk before heading off to Monkton Football Field where the boys played a 20-20 game against Pembroke Cricket Club. Gibbo opened the batting again, striding proudly to the pitch - and proceeded to smash the ball all over the (small) paddock. He hit the clubhouse and sent the crowd scattering (all five of them). He made 36 retired and took two (crucial) wickets. Aren't they all? I was so tired I couldn't keep my eyes open and had to put my book away and lay my head on the table for a little while. We had a meal of rice and stew and partook of some fellowship. More funny stories. Fascinating. Gibbo was awarded Man of the Match for his efforts. A yellow cap is awarded to the first man of the match on tour and is ceremoniously handed on each game thereafter. It has "Golden Boy" embroidered on the back; it sits well on him and he expects to win it a couple more times yet (only three games left). He managed to pass on the Butterfingers glove...some other poor sucker dropped a catch. Gibbo cheered loudly at his teammates' misfortune. Some of the girls and I left early and went home to bed; the boys came back about 11pm.
Yesterday's friendly match between all the guys was cancelled due to inclement weather so Gibbo and I caught the hop on-hop off bus and toured the city. We stopped off at Dublin Castle and the local jail where a tour took an hour. We had fish and chips at a recommended cafe and found half the tour group there. At the end of the day, the best fish and chips are to be found on the Sunshine Coast.
On the way over from Germany I read in the magazine that Riverdance was on at The Gaiety Theatre and thought how much I'd like to see it but also thought a) I wouldn't be able to get a ticket and b) I would be obliged to attend the "official" cricket functions. However, when I found out there WERE tickets available I dumped the "what I should do" line of thought and went with the "what I want to do". So last night, three others and I sat in the balcony and watched it. I was mesmerized completely; the tap-dancing and all that celtic music stirs something primeval in me. I couldn't stop smiling. One of the other girls fell asleep; obviously it doesn't stir anything in her.
We caught a taxi back to the hotel where the guys had just returned from their official function (even though they hadn't played they still went to the dinner that was organized for them). There was an Irish band (duo) playing in the bar so we stayed until closing time. It was toe tapping, foot stomping music and I sang along to the few songs I knew (and the ones I didn't). I rang Peter when they played "The Shores of Botany Bay" but he thought it was a crank call and hung up on me. I rang back twice but he wouldn't answer the phone, still thinking it was some drunk with a wrong number! Gibbo wanted to leave and go to bed but I wouldn't let him; I made him stay. Between seeing Riverdance and listening to a live band in an Irish Pub, it was the best night I've had in five years (or longer!!).
We're having trouble sleeping and hope we catch up soon. Staying in the one place for a week should help.
Today we are free until 3pm, when we head to Manchester for a night, then to Harrogate for the serious stuff.
Love to all,
M and G
The flight from Singapore to Frankfurt is now just a blur. We took off at 11.30pm, jammed in like sardines. We ate and dozed and tried to be a little bit comfortable but weren't. For the final hour and a half we watched the Miley Cyrus movie which at least passed the time. Gibbo really enjoyed it!
We landed in Frankfurt at 5.30am, local time. The flight ended up being 11 and 1/2 hours. Our flight to Dublin didn't leave for another 5 or so hours so we all descended on a bar; some ordered beers, some ordered coffees, some played cards.
There was some confusion as to how we actually had to proceed to/through transit; it all worked itself out.
The plane to Ireland was very spacious in comparison to our previous flight. It took an hour 40 to get here; then another hour or so in the terminal while we waited for one couples' luggage to arrive; it didn't. It was still in Frankfurt.
We went for a quick walk before heading off to Monkton Football Field where the boys played a 20-20 game against Pembroke Cricket Club. Gibbo opened the batting again, striding proudly to the pitch - and proceeded to smash the ball all over the (small) paddock. He hit the clubhouse and sent the crowd scattering (all five of them). He made 36 retired and took two (crucial) wickets. Aren't they all? I was so tired I couldn't keep my eyes open and had to put my book away and lay my head on the table for a little while. We had a meal of rice and stew and partook of some fellowship. More funny stories. Fascinating. Gibbo was awarded Man of the Match for his efforts. A yellow cap is awarded to the first man of the match on tour and is ceremoniously handed on each game thereafter. It has "Golden Boy" embroidered on the back; it sits well on him and he expects to win it a couple more times yet (only three games left). He managed to pass on the Butterfingers glove...some other poor sucker dropped a catch. Gibbo cheered loudly at his teammates' misfortune. Some of the girls and I left early and went home to bed; the boys came back about 11pm.
Yesterday's friendly match between all the guys was cancelled due to inclement weather so Gibbo and I caught the hop on-hop off bus and toured the city. We stopped off at Dublin Castle and the local jail where a tour took an hour. We had fish and chips at a recommended cafe and found half the tour group there. At the end of the day, the best fish and chips are to be found on the Sunshine Coast.
On the way over from Germany I read in the magazine that Riverdance was on at The Gaiety Theatre and thought how much I'd like to see it but also thought a) I wouldn't be able to get a ticket and b) I would be obliged to attend the "official" cricket functions. However, when I found out there WERE tickets available I dumped the "what I should do" line of thought and went with the "what I want to do". So last night, three others and I sat in the balcony and watched it. I was mesmerized completely; the tap-dancing and all that celtic music stirs something primeval in me. I couldn't stop smiling. One of the other girls fell asleep; obviously it doesn't stir anything in her.
We caught a taxi back to the hotel where the guys had just returned from their official function (even though they hadn't played they still went to the dinner that was organized for them). There was an Irish band (duo) playing in the bar so we stayed until closing time. It was toe tapping, foot stomping music and I sang along to the few songs I knew (and the ones I didn't). I rang Peter when they played "The Shores of Botany Bay" but he thought it was a crank call and hung up on me. I rang back twice but he wouldn't answer the phone, still thinking it was some drunk with a wrong number! Gibbo wanted to leave and go to bed but I wouldn't let him; I made him stay. Between seeing Riverdance and listening to a live band in an Irish Pub, it was the best night I've had in five years (or longer!!).
We're having trouble sleeping and hope we catch up soon. Staying in the one place for a week should help.
Today we are free until 3pm, when we head to Manchester for a night, then to Harrogate for the serious stuff.
Love to all,
M and G
Here I am in England
This is the first email I sent home 8 days ago. They are very long missives but everyone at home is loving them and I'm really enjoying writing them. I can't post pictures direct from the ipad; they will have to wait until I get home but that's ok. I have taken an awful lot and need to cull plenty.
Well here we are in Singapore at the cricket. Yippee. What fun. This is the perfect opportunity to catch you up on what we've been doing so far. Beats watching these blokes anyway. Actually one bloke just told me that the "box" he got out of the bag wasn't big enough!! And heaps of other blokes keep putting their hands down their pants and readjusting themselves. I don't quite know where to look.
A chronological account of the journey so far. This is a long email so sit down and take your time.
We left Brisbane at 2pm Monday and arrived Singapore 7 and 1/2 hours later; 8pm local time. Collecting baggage and clearing customs was easy; we caught a bus to the hotel and had a mildly amusing French guide giving us a running commentary on the 25 minute journey. We were on the 14th floor with a nice view of the big wheel and boats on the harbour. I was pretty keen to contact the kids and let them know we'd arrived but Gibbo's phone wasn't on global roaming (even though he'd been assured three times before leaving that it was) and the hotel didn't have wifi. I finally got a call through on the room phone and woke Meg up about midnight. We are two hours behind.
We got up early Tuesday and had a hot breakfast, attended the team meeting where we found out Gibbo wasn't playing then headed off to Raffles. On the way we stopped off at the swissotel where we took the lift to the 70th floor (in seconds) and sucked in the view. It was pretty amazing.
Raffles was what I expected. All white, all wide staircases, all decadence. We wandered around the verandahs and up the stairs and down, into the shops and out again pretty quickly.
We ended up at The Long Bar where I had a Singapore Sling, Gibbo had a Tiger beer and we snacked on the tiniest peanuts I've ever seen. My drink was $25, Gibbo's was $18, I bought a long, tall SSling glass for $18 then they add a 10% tax and then another 7% tax! One Australian dollar equals $1.12 Singapore dollars. The room was all dark polished wood, automatic leaf shaped fans swirled the air and it was very atmospheric. Chris Walker had told us to go to the front of the hotel, stride past the doorman as if you own the place and head for the Writer's Bar - except the guy on the front door was an enormous Indian looking fellow with a turban and a very regal looking uniform, totally reminiscent of The Empire days, and the sign on the front said "Guests Only past this point" so we didn't try. You can just imagine what it was like in its' heyday.
From there we caught a taxi for a half hour ride to a cold storage facility on the other side of the island where AAco meat is stored. Singapore is not really very big (it's an island, a country and a city) so it never takes very long to get anywhere; and the taxis are cheap. We were met there and shown around the freezer and looked at our meat in boxes. We (ie Gibbo) talked a bit of bullshit then we caught another taxi to a place called Dempsey Hill where AAco meat is sold in a boutique delicatessen. You can buy it to take home and cook as well as buy it to have cooked there in the cafe. We travelled 6000km to eat our own meat. Priceless. And we paid for it - $28 for Gibbo's wagyu burger and $24 for my 1824 steak sandwich. Hello??
We jumped in another taxi and headed to Boat Quay where we walked until we found a bumboat booth where we bought a ticket then spent half an hour looking for toilets. Gibbie has a weak bladder. The cruise took about half an hour up and down the river, past lots of skyscrapers, the casino and the big lion. Wouldn't that look good in the garden at Aronui? We headed back to the hotel and I had a nice hot bubble bath then we met up with the rest of the group downstairs. We headed to The Singapore Cricket Club for dinner. This is a rather prestigious establishment (apparently) for which I had little respect (due to my lack of appreciation for the gentlemen's game). We had a buffet dinner with some bottom burning curry that made Gibbo sweat profusely; there were speeches and presentations. The touring team lost the game and Gibbo roasted them all night - paid out on them severely. There are fines handed out all the time by the tour leader/s (or anyone really) - I got fined $5 for getting G's dessert for him; he's been fined for sledging. He got fined today for not listening to me. If I instigate this tactic at home, I could be rich.
The night dragged on. One man at our table talked about the camaraderie of cricketers all over the world and the fellowship that ensues upon meeting a fellow practitioner of the game. Apparently, you all sit around and tell funny stories about cricket. Hello?? Funny stories? Cricket? Oxymoron. The night dragged on some more. Men retold boring stories of the ball that cut in "like you wouldn't believe"; so and so hit the biggest six you've ever seen; I remember when I played in New Zealand in 1978 and hit 120 etc etc, Riveting stuff. I nearly burst out laughing a couple of times at the position I was in. Then, a local stood up at his table, balanced a half full glass of beer on his head and proceeded to sing a song (which I can't remember one word of). He then called on the captain of his team to join him - so they both sang the song and balanced their beers, bobbing up and down as they went. Of course, they then went around the room - the winning team had to play their game, then the losing team - THEN THE WOMEN. My worst nightmare. Singing a silly song in an Indian accent, balancing a glass of liquid (water, that's all I had on the table) on my head and bobbing up and down. We must have looked like a right bunch of tossers but at least we were all tossers together. By then I'd had enough of the excitement and was ready to leave but Gibbo was still working the room, sledging as he went. Of course, they all love him; one of the tour leaders told me that someone like Gibbo is good to have on tour because he gets everyone to join in - and he actually has some talent (cricket). I didn't tell him that though; no need to massage his ego any more than it needs. We finally left about 11pm and walked back to the hotel.
This morning I slept in a bit; we had breakfast, another team meeting then Gibbo and I walked to Chinatown. We wandered up an alleyway and made a couple of small purchases then found a temple with some extraordinary statues and carvings. We visited a tailor and Gibbo bought the most disgusting shirt in the shop. He asked me if I liked it; I told him "Yeah, I love it and I'm gonna make you wear it everywhere when we get home". You kids will love it too. He also bought a long sleeved, two tone shirt; both shirts are silk; they'll cling really attractively to his curves. We wandered and browsed; he bought himself a pair of shorts; he disappeared into another shop, I found him way down the back, buying a pair of Raybans; he'd already texted Drew to ask if he wanted a pair but Drew prefers Oakleys! We spent a couple of hours wandering - there was so much to see and look at, almost too much for me - and just before we left, we went to Dr. Fish - where you pay $10 to sit on a bench seat and put your feet into an aquarium full of fish - that bite and suck and nibble your feet. It tickled and was kind of nice but also kind of disgusting. On the way out of the centre he stopped in a shoe shop and saw a nice pair of black walking shoes; he asked the attendant for a pair in his size but they were women's shoes. Then he found a pair of men's shoes that he quite liked but they didn't have any big enough left. They were white; I thought they were a bit homo looking so I was a bit relieved when they didn't have any. They would have gone really nicely with the lovely shirt though. We could have really hung shit on him then. He was funny; he wanted to shop in Singapore and he certainly did that - and got exactly what he wanted - some shirts, some shorts and some Raybans (thank god he didn't get the shoes though).
So we met up with the rest of today's team and caught taxis to the Ceylon Sports Club for the game. How exciting. I've spent the whole time trying to get the ipad working and typing this up. Gibbo retired not out 35 and the team made 176 for 30 overs. Now "we" are fielding. The two guys batting for the other team don't look a day over 20; they're a couple of ring-ins definitely, same with yesterday's game. Think we might get rolled. At least Gib can keep sledging because he made some runs.
Someone has brought along a stuffed duck that quacks; it's sitting on Gibbo's shoulder in the team photo we took before the game. He cops plenty of stick himself because he gives so much of it out.
There's a couple of interesting travellers in the group. Most men have their partners with them; maybe 8 or so don't. Everyone is getting along well although it's early days yet! One of the team leaders told me that they had identified a few potential problems before they left but I don't think anything has surfaced yet.
We leave Singapore tonight at 11.30 and have a 13 hour flight to Frankfurt, arriving 5.30am local time. There's a five hour wait then we catch the plane for Dublin where we arrive at midday. I was told that the two nights entertainment in Dublin will be in pubs so I might see that Irish band after all Peter.
I'm really keen to send you some photos; hope I can get the wifi sorted on the next leg of the trip.
Better go now, got a good book to read. The cricket will be over soon, hopefully.
Love to you all,
M
PS: Gibbo just got fined for dropping a catch off his own bowling. Duh.
Well here we are in Singapore at the cricket. Yippee. What fun. This is the perfect opportunity to catch you up on what we've been doing so far. Beats watching these blokes anyway. Actually one bloke just told me that the "box" he got out of the bag wasn't big enough!! And heaps of other blokes keep putting their hands down their pants and readjusting themselves. I don't quite know where to look.
A chronological account of the journey so far. This is a long email so sit down and take your time.
We left Brisbane at 2pm Monday and arrived Singapore 7 and 1/2 hours later; 8pm local time. Collecting baggage and clearing customs was easy; we caught a bus to the hotel and had a mildly amusing French guide giving us a running commentary on the 25 minute journey. We were on the 14th floor with a nice view of the big wheel and boats on the harbour. I was pretty keen to contact the kids and let them know we'd arrived but Gibbo's phone wasn't on global roaming (even though he'd been assured three times before leaving that it was) and the hotel didn't have wifi. I finally got a call through on the room phone and woke Meg up about midnight. We are two hours behind.
We ended up at The Long Bar where I had a Singapore Sling, Gibbo had a Tiger beer and we snacked on the tiniest peanuts I've ever seen. My drink was $25, Gibbo's was $18, I bought a long, tall SSling glass for $18 then they add a 10% tax and then another 7% tax! One Australian dollar equals $1.12 Singapore dollars. The room was all dark polished wood, automatic leaf shaped fans swirled the air and it was very atmospheric. Chris Walker had told us to go to the front of the hotel, stride past the doorman as if you own the place and head for the Writer's Bar - except the guy on the front door was an enormous Indian looking fellow with a turban and a very regal looking uniform, totally reminiscent of The Empire days, and the sign on the front said "Guests Only past this point" so we didn't try. You can just imagine what it was like in its' heyday.
From there we caught a taxi for a half hour ride to a cold storage facility on the other side of the island where AAco meat is stored. Singapore is not really very big (it's an island, a country and a city) so it never takes very long to get anywhere; and the taxis are cheap. We were met there and shown around the freezer and looked at our meat in boxes. We (ie Gibbo) talked a bit of bullshit then we caught another taxi to a place called Dempsey Hill where AAco meat is sold in a boutique delicatessen. You can buy it to take home and cook as well as buy it to have cooked there in the cafe. We travelled 6000km to eat our own meat. Priceless. And we paid for it - $28 for Gibbo's wagyu burger and $24 for my 1824 steak sandwich. Hello??
We jumped in another taxi and headed to Boat Quay where we walked until we found a bumboat booth where we bought a ticket then spent half an hour looking for toilets. Gibbie has a weak bladder. The cruise took about half an hour up and down the river, past lots of skyscrapers, the casino and the big lion. Wouldn't that look good in the garden at Aronui? We headed back to the hotel and I had a nice hot bubble bath then we met up with the rest of the group downstairs. We headed to The Singapore Cricket Club for dinner. This is a rather prestigious establishment (apparently) for which I had little respect (due to my lack of appreciation for the gentlemen's game). We had a buffet dinner with some bottom burning curry that made Gibbo sweat profusely; there were speeches and presentations. The touring team lost the game and Gibbo roasted them all night - paid out on them severely. There are fines handed out all the time by the tour leader/s (or anyone really) - I got fined $5 for getting G's dessert for him; he's been fined for sledging. He got fined today for not listening to me. If I instigate this tactic at home, I could be rich.
The night dragged on. One man at our table talked about the camaraderie of cricketers all over the world and the fellowship that ensues upon meeting a fellow practitioner of the game. Apparently, you all sit around and tell funny stories about cricket. Hello?? Funny stories? Cricket? Oxymoron. The night dragged on some more. Men retold boring stories of the ball that cut in "like you wouldn't believe"; so and so hit the biggest six you've ever seen; I remember when I played in New Zealand in 1978 and hit 120 etc etc, Riveting stuff. I nearly burst out laughing a couple of times at the position I was in. Then, a local stood up at his table, balanced a half full glass of beer on his head and proceeded to sing a song (which I can't remember one word of). He then called on the captain of his team to join him - so they both sang the song and balanced their beers, bobbing up and down as they went. Of course, they then went around the room - the winning team had to play their game, then the losing team - THEN THE WOMEN. My worst nightmare. Singing a silly song in an Indian accent, balancing a glass of liquid (water, that's all I had on the table) on my head and bobbing up and down. We must have looked like a right bunch of tossers but at least we were all tossers together. By then I'd had enough of the excitement and was ready to leave but Gibbo was still working the room, sledging as he went. Of course, they all love him; one of the tour leaders told me that someone like Gibbo is good to have on tour because he gets everyone to join in - and he actually has some talent (cricket). I didn't tell him that though; no need to massage his ego any more than it needs. We finally left about 11pm and walked back to the hotel.
This morning I slept in a bit; we had breakfast, another team meeting then Gibbo and I walked to Chinatown. We wandered up an alleyway and made a couple of small purchases then found a temple with some extraordinary statues and carvings. We visited a tailor and Gibbo bought the most disgusting shirt in the shop. He asked me if I liked it; I told him "Yeah, I love it and I'm gonna make you wear it everywhere when we get home". You kids will love it too. He also bought a long sleeved, two tone shirt; both shirts are silk; they'll cling really attractively to his curves. We wandered and browsed; he bought himself a pair of shorts; he disappeared into another shop, I found him way down the back, buying a pair of Raybans; he'd already texted Drew to ask if he wanted a pair but Drew prefers Oakleys! We spent a couple of hours wandering - there was so much to see and look at, almost too much for me - and just before we left, we went to Dr. Fish - where you pay $10 to sit on a bench seat and put your feet into an aquarium full of fish - that bite and suck and nibble your feet. It tickled and was kind of nice but also kind of disgusting. On the way out of the centre he stopped in a shoe shop and saw a nice pair of black walking shoes; he asked the attendant for a pair in his size but they were women's shoes. Then he found a pair of men's shoes that he quite liked but they didn't have any big enough left. They were white; I thought they were a bit homo looking so I was a bit relieved when they didn't have any. They would have gone really nicely with the lovely shirt though. We could have really hung shit on him then. He was funny; he wanted to shop in Singapore and he certainly did that - and got exactly what he wanted - some shirts, some shorts and some Raybans (thank god he didn't get the shoes though).
So we met up with the rest of today's team and caught taxis to the Ceylon Sports Club for the game. How exciting. I've spent the whole time trying to get the ipad working and typing this up. Gibbo retired not out 35 and the team made 176 for 30 overs. Now "we" are fielding. The two guys batting for the other team don't look a day over 20; they're a couple of ring-ins definitely, same with yesterday's game. Think we might get rolled. At least Gib can keep sledging because he made some runs.
Someone has brought along a stuffed duck that quacks; it's sitting on Gibbo's shoulder in the team photo we took before the game. He cops plenty of stick himself because he gives so much of it out.
There's a couple of interesting travellers in the group. Most men have their partners with them; maybe 8 or so don't. Everyone is getting along well although it's early days yet! One of the team leaders told me that they had identified a few potential problems before they left but I don't think anything has surfaced yet.
We leave Singapore tonight at 11.30 and have a 13 hour flight to Frankfurt, arriving 5.30am local time. There's a five hour wait then we catch the plane for Dublin where we arrive at midday. I was told that the two nights entertainment in Dublin will be in pubs so I might see that Irish band after all Peter.
I'm really keen to send you some photos; hope I can get the wifi sorted on the next leg of the trip.
Better go now, got a good book to read. The cricket will be over soon, hopefully.
Love to you all,
M
PS: Gibbo just got fined for dropping a catch off his own bowling. Duh.
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