The One with the Irwin Killers

During our time in the Caribbean I decided to take a break from my sun lounge and go dabble with death. It surprises no one to find out that sting rays have an adversity to leaving Australians alive. The girls had arranged a rather nice sail out to a sand bar where the action would commence. I was particularly calm until the stingrays came - not for the fear of the rays but for the hysterical screaming that was emitting from the girls.

The rays themselves were rather tame and circled us with almost a disinterest. We were able to pick a few of them up. The skin had a very hard and slimey texture but the creature itself commanded a delicate touch. I was very aware of the barb towards the end of the tail but it certainly didn't look like it wanted to cause us any harm.

I was a little taken back at the size of the males - we all took them for babies. Not sure the reason the females grew much larger but that is your moment of knowlege for the day!

The One with all the Grievances

During my time here in London I have taken note of a number of things that annoy the hell out of me. Unfortunately these may not be of any interest to you but as the sole writer / editor of this site I take it upon myself to air out my grievances.

1. Cyclists on their high horse. Yes you are the greatest because you ride a bike and are saving the planet but stop swapping between a car / pedestrian when it suits you. Ringing your bell whilst illegally riding on a footpath or across a pedestrian walkway that is green for pedestrians will not make me get out of your way – in fact I will go out of my way to inconvenience your misjudgement on this matter by slowing you down to the point that you have to remove your locked in feet from the pedals to prevent you falling over.

2. If your child is old enough to go to school then they do not need to be transported there in a pram or stroller. This is not only and inconvenience when you push the empty stroller along with the child walking next to you taking up most of the footpath but it also seems stupid when you are taking public transport (ie the bus) and leave an empty pram in the standing area.

3. Multi-bags as carry on. If you do not want to put your bags into the hold then make sure only one goes into the locker above. If I cannot find a space for my small back pack shared between 2 persons, then too many chumps are multi-bagging. Don’t expect me to store this below my feet for your selfishness. This goes for coats up there too – expect them to be squashed into the back of the locker because you don’t want to hang it on the hook on the seat in front of you.

4. Service charges included into the bill. I don’t have to pay this so why do you put it on there? Why do you offer such substandard service when this is the case? Why do you become embarrassed when I ask you to reissue the bill without this?

The One with the Hidden Charges

This was possibly the most caught out I have been in a while and although I should have expected it from a poverty airline my copious amount of consumed Guinness on route to Ireland probably had a little to do with it. We flew a low budget airline (not mentioning any names but it was the smeggling SOB's Ryanair) to Dublin. Having paid a small sum of £20 for myself and the girl it was unfortunate to find the cost of a bag was £40. Never the less the girl was smart enough to pay this beforehand savind £60 in the process.

Once she had checked this in we proceded back to the bar to consume more of the black stuff. Eventually our flight was called and as we got to the gate myself and another mate were held back because "we hadn't got our visa check" at the outside check in. We waited while they located someone to take us back through customs. Interestingly enough they took about half an hour for this to happen - telling us the plane had already left when the girl was texting me that they still hadn't left the gate. Finally the woman 'fessed up and said this was how the airline made money and there was no way they would let us make that flight.

Finding the amusement in it all we headed to the ticket counter to rebook and pay a missed flight charge (£100). Even before I could go into a witty tirade about the whole situation the man was yelling at us. That is when we found it the most fun - having approached him calmly. Ever willing to egg the old fart on I was held back by the running man as he was pretty keen to get over to Dublin. Once our tickets had been presented to us I told the man what I thought of him and his job.

We then headed to the check in counter to get our "Visa checked". In another moment of hilarity we were told that these tickets didn't need a visa check because they weren't a computer print out. Once I had pointed out that my passport had not been checked and the man realised I was not moving without a stamp he became rather flustered. Another woman came over to help out but unfortunately couldn't convince us we didn't need the stamp. I could not work out why a simple stamp was not being issued so I took it upon myself to reach over, grab the stamp and ink my ticket anyway.

Once we finally got through customs we headed back to the bar and proceeded to down more of the black stuff. When we finally headed to the gate we saw around 20 people being held to the side and told they wouldn't be flying to Dublin that night because they had not gotten the "Visa check" and this being the last flight.

Interestingly this is probably not the drunkest flight I have had however it was certainly the most rowdiest! Our fellow passengers were probably quite annoyed at having to be near us especially after the unusually rough turbulence started to make us feel a tad green. When asking about the lack of a sick bag we were told there was a charge for them. Luckily though there was no charge to vomiting onto the floor - at which they said this charge would be overlooked, (fortunately for fellow passengers we did not require the bag).

The One at Halloween

At Halloween owning a monkey suit can have its advantages in costume selection. Rather than go to a party as a plain ape I decided to vary it up a bit. I bought a waist coat, matching fez, tail and some black wings that produced a costume fresh out of "The Wizard of Oz" - the flying monkey.

The costume was a massive hit and rather appropriate given we spent most of the evening outside. The Girl, like most of the other women there that night, had next to nothing on in her skimpy bumblebee outfit (that I certainly had an appreciation of). This meant she spent most of the night clung to me for warmth.

The whole night was blast until, unable to delay the inevitable any longer, I had to make for a bathroom break. Rather than go the hassle of a near complete costume removal (which I figured would be a regular occurence once the seal was broken) I decided to acquire a pair of scissors and create an easy access. This proved to be a winning solution and the party proceeded with a very happy monkey.

The One from Florence

Standing below a statue of a gigantic, marble statue of a naked man inspires you without a doubt. The scepticism I thought would contain my awe departed on the approach along the corridor into the hall. The size is epic, the detail intense, the resemblence to a human unequivocal - I could actually imagine the head turning on its shoulders to make a conversation with someone in the crowd. Inspiration can be found on many plateua's but I find it unimaginable that any artist could not draw a copious amount from this interaction.

The One with the Players Wives

As some of you know - I am a big basketball fan, so when the NBA released the tickets for the game at the O2 arena I was probably one of the first in line for tickets. The teams playing were the Bulls and Jazz. Neither team was particularly of any interest to me at all, especially with Korver being injured and not able to throw up a few long bombs, but an NBA game is an NBA game and thus, a must.

I took the girl as she quite enjoyed the Kobe show we had seen at Madison Square Garden during our trip to New York. What she hadn't expected was the remarkably close seats I had gotten us - 5 rows behind the Bulls bench. What thrilled her even more was when she learnt the row in front of us seated the Bulls players wives/girlfriends/family. As quick as you like she stopped taking photos of the players for me and whizzed the camera around at the ladies. No not the ladies themselves but their accessories. The diamond rings, jewellery, handbags and shoes. Naming brands and prices I could hear the excitement in her voice. She couldn't believe her luck until she realised the unfortunate situation of being unable to discuss it with anyone.

The game itself was of a fairly good standard considering it was pre-season. The buzzer beater at the end came from the unlikely hero, rookie James Johnson, who has played limited minutes for a bad Bulls team so far this season.

We both walked away from this encounter happy, me with the show on the court and the girl with the show off the court.

The One in the Gorilla Suit

Last year some of you may recall my disappointment at returning home for my brother's wedding - not the fact he was throwing away his bachelorhood but the fact I missed the great gorilla race. What is that? Some of you may ask. Well I will ask the following of you. Given the chance to dress up as a gorilla and then run around central London crossing the Thames a few times with 1000 odd fellow dressed in a similar matter would you dare to take on the challenge? Now I suppose the majority of you are saying "That sounds right up your alley" and indeed you would be right - but I managed to drag in a couple of lads from work as well.

My training consisted of jogging - building up to 10km for about the 2 months before. The circuit was only 7.5km but I figured the extra kms would account for the gorilla suit. This was a little bit of a miscalculation on my part. The costume we had chosen was a pirate theme. Not really sure why we went for this one but it seemed a safe bet we would be the only ones. The course essentially followed a zig zag across the bridges of the Thames (Tower, London, Southwark and Blackfriars) which seemed like a rather scenic route. Unfortunately each of the bridges required a climb of stairs which is not particularly easy to accomplish in a gorilla mask. To illustrate how tricky, my sis-in-law was running for about 20m beside me trying to take my photo and I didn't see or hear her (and you might know she is not particularly quiet - sorry sis).

The run itself was quite good and we did seem to get quite a good cheer from the unsuspecting tourists who probably assumed they wouldn't be taking photos of gorillas that day. I was probably doing quite well until the last km or so when the crowd thinned out and there wasn less urge to push on. I finished in a time of around 50 mins which was about 5 past what I expected although I was still rather proud of my effort.

I think I had probably sweated roughly what a pelican can hold in his beak, which was evident when I took off the ape gloves and a pool of water washed out. Satisfied with our effort we headed straight to the bar for some rehydrating. A couple of beers later and I was being carried to the next bar by all. I did wear the gorilla mask on the tube and scared quite a few of the passengers on our journey.

If we are all around next year we have all vowed to do it again (I have the suit, it would be rude not too) - so any suggestions on a theme would be grateful.

The One from the Fest

Warning: The Womble Blog does not endorse any excessive drinking from shoes.

"Shoe, Shoe, Shoe, Shoe!" Was our catchphrase of this years Oktoberfest. The goal of Oktoberfest is to drink as many steins, eat as much pork knuckle and slam back as many shoes as possible. Contrary to any warnings appearing on this sight it is tradition to drink excessively from any shoe available. Unfortunately it was my turn to provide the shoe this year and the green ferrari's certainly held up to the watertight test. Luckily enough most nationalities joined in to drink from the cherished shoe. The poor few that declined were heckled and booed until our voices were hoarse. Questions pondered for millennia have now been answered:

1. How many people can fit into a bag locker at the train station? (two)
2. Is it possible to drink yourself sober? (not sure - too drunk to remember)
3. What is the best hat to wear at the fest? (Horse hat)

4. What is the worst hat? (The little boy hat)

5. Where is the most comfortable place to nap on your drunken stumble home? (Train tracks)

6. Does wine belong at the fest? (Only when drunk out of a mini Stein)

The One in the Croatian Bars

The girl and I headed ourselves to Croatia for a week to enjoy sunshine, good food and wine. This turned out to be an amazing trip for us, taking us both by surprise by the surroundings and culture you become immersed in. We visited Split, Dubrovnik, Korcula and Hvar. Each location differed immensely but gave us the same enjoyable feeling. I thought it would have been very hard for one to go there and not feel the same.

The highlights of our trip were vast however it is a few of the many bars we visited that I need to tell you about. We spent several nights in Dubrovnik and each afternoon we ended up at a bar called - Buza. Apart from the bar being appropriately named it was the location that drew us back. The bar is situated on the rocks outside the cities main walls right on the ocean. The sunset is amazing as you watch the boats sail past, as well as the steps leading down to the ocean it self so that you can cool the afternoon heat off with a swim.

We considered staying at Dubrovnik for longer but alas I am glad we moved on to Korcula, if only for a night, as we found the coolest cocktail bar I am ever likely to see. The name of the bar is Massimo but it is the location that will fascinate you - it is situated at the top of a turret. Overlooking the water you climb up to the top via a ladder. The drinks are taken to the top via a pulley up the side of the turret. The girl being the sensible one limited her cocktails in thought of the climb back down. Not one to shy away from an a difficult situation (especially alcohol induced) I decided to continue drinking a few more Mojito's to raise the bar. By the time we left it was apparent the girl did the sensible thing as I certainly struggled my way down the ladder. Surprisingly enough the staff were acting as if this was the norm and went about their business.

From Korcula we headed to Hvar - one of the more popular tourist spots for the fashionably young tourists. The bar we found on this island, called Hula Hula bar was right on the rocks although not quite the cliff face of Buza. Here we met up with the lil sis who was at the end of her 3 month holiday. She had found a friend on her travels and they were suitably catching up on their tans before heading back to the Australian summer. The bar was a rather pumping place with plenty of drinks and some very nice tunes pumping out for all to enjoy. If the beer wasn't enough to cool you down the water a few steps away certainly did the job. We spent a couple of afternoons at this bar sunning ourselves and drinking (no guesses for which one the girls were doing and which one I was doing).

Overall the trip was fantastic and contrary to this entry we did venture outside the bars. The beauty of this country however is no matter what you are up for it caters for everything. The hardcore tourist to the relaxed sloth - there is something for everyone.

The One with the Free Phone

Due to my hectic offshore schedule it became apparent that I would miss the few gigs that my favourite band had reformed to play. Geographically everything in Europe is close but logistically trying to organise everything is a massive hassle. That being said this was possibly my last chance to see Faith No More play.

The Cousin had picked the French festival "Rock en Seine" as the easiest for us to get to and the most likely for me to attend. We caught the Eurostar over mid-afternoon and decided to commence our boozing. We went to a few bars that we new to get into the Parisian spirit. Many bars were visited and a large quantity was consumed.

We ended up at a very French Brasserie that provided quite a feast (and even more wine). By the time we finished up it was well into the late evening so we metroed it back to the arrondissement we were staying in. It was rather late and we found a pretty dodgy bar devoted to 'the clash' to have a few pints in before it closed.

As we were walking back to the hotel we passed a stylish, Indian restaurant looking, cocktail bar that seemed to be pumping. We ventured inside for a night cap. The cousin headed to the bar and I sat at a comfy couch nearby. After the last couple were served the barman looked at my cousin and proceeded to tell him they were closed. This puzzled us for many reasons and I could see a verbal altercation in the mix. As I got up and moved to the bar I noticed something on the floor beside it. I bent down picked it up and returned my hands to my pocket. Grabbing the cousin we moved onto the street as he questioned my motive. As we walked down the street I produced a brand new iPhone from my pocket. Funnily enough it was locked and in French so I had no way to find it's owner. Even funnier is how easily the phones can be 'jailbroken' to be used by anyone. As such I now have a brand new iPhone.

The festival the next day turned out to be amazing which is solely contributed to a grand FNM performance and a free iPhone.