Ramblings of the travelling nature

Well it was a long time coming, having wanting to hire a van & scoot along the English coastline to see some surf & the mighty Atlantic and finally managed to piece it all together in the last couple of months left with my time here in London. What a perfect time to reflect on what I’ve done and achieved over here and how I’ve grown as a person & more bloody importantly what the fucks coming round the corner, not just on the road but the journey I’m on.

That’s a bit fucking deep right there isn’t it, Jesus!!. Must be Mr Johnson playing in the background tinkering with my brain waves.

Now being the independent type of guy I am, you might be thinking I done a roadie all by myself. As much fun as that would be it doesn’t really make a roadie a roadie now does it, although I nearly ended up doing it solo, as it seems that pickers just seem to migrate to me wherever I go, but one can through on here word and that was Jayne, a fantastic mate and also a bar wench at Ministry.

So just the two of us aye, well sure that can still be a roadie of sorts…can’t it? Although the idea of a can full of drunken gits pulling practicals & just general chaos kinda gets simmered down and it mighten be packed full of testosterone madness it could still be a blast, right?
Well after having a few reservations, just for a couple of seconds, Jayne also brought up the magical idea that we’ll just pick up hitch hikers & randoms along the way…...well fuck then Jayne pack your duvet and lets hit the road!

The Friday rolls round & it’s time to pick up our new home for the next week over in West London. On the Tube ride over I was feeling strangely nervous, like first date butterflies, bloody hell I haven’t driven for two years and I’ve been known to contract road rag from the footpath by some of the just outrageously stupid manoeuvres that UK drivers pull. It’s wasn’t made any easier knowing that I have to navigate right through Central London in post peak-hour traffic all the way over the East London, eeek!

Was met at the station by the Aussie bloke running the gig, Dennis, and also the beast of a car I had to control for the next week. Now this thing is probably the biggest thing I’ve ever had to drive, since I was driving back in Aus a considerably smaller Corolla.
Well with the nerves certainly far from quashed, Dennis proceeded to take me round the car showing me all the bits & bobs and the damage from previous motorists who couldn’t control it and finishing up at the cracked windscreen, blimy what am I getting into.
Thankfully Dennis left me with the keys and wished me on my merry way before retreated back inside out of sight so I could try and back the thing out of the car park. Well I might not be some kind of car buff, but I’d like to think I know where the gear stick is, where the hell was the bloody thing, after scanning over the usual areas where a gear stick tends to hide and spending a good 5 minutes pulling, pushing, pressing and generally tinkering with anything that could move I suddenly hear the noise of a reversing single to what I thought was originally a school bus reversing but infact was my car preparing to reverse! Well there you go, the gear stick that looks EXACTLY like the wiper lever. After feeling slightly embarrassed, I complete my ten-point turn out of the car park and on my merry way which was surprisingly easy as the car practically drove it self with everything being automatic and all.

I should tell you a little bit about the car. Basically it’s a Toyota people-mover (perhaps not quite the beast you envisaged) fitted out with a double bed with some storage underneath that converts into a nifty little table inside and a sink and ‘kitchen’ at the back. It does get cooler though, the panels of the van have being spray painted with graffiti artwork!! We got the ‘Spinal tap’ van with conjures up thoughts of bizarre, bloody, medical experiments but is infact a band of sorts, so had the band members with there token monster on one side and the band logo on the other with the word ‘Wicked’ slapped on the front and ‘It’s a long way to the shop if you want a sausage roll’ sprayed on the back which I believe is a take on a 80’s rock’n’roll song rocked out by AC/DC.

So rocking on my way to East London was surprisingly easy, nothing too much to worry about except for speed camera, pedestrians, mopeds, buses, cyclists, trucks, pigeons, school children and straying into the Congestion Charge Zone, piece of piss really. After navigating my way through the hell that is London I had made it to my flat, ahhhh, no dings or anything not even a wisp of road rage in the air...…that was until I try to remove the key from the ignition. Simple task you’d think but the bloody thing wouldn’t budge and after resorting to calling my flat mate and Jayne for some advice I decided to go back to my tried and tested method of tinkering with anything that can god dam move. After a few ‘tactical’ jolts the car relinquished its grip on my keys and I was free to start packing.

Having stuffed every conceivable item of clothing into my backpack and heaving it along with some bedding into the back it was time to start heading out of London & go pick up Jayne…in South London. Now it’s probably not the best of things to admit but I think I packed more than Jayne did! With no weight restrictions I just thought to take it all, turns out I only changed a couple of times the whole trip.
With the car full & brimming with fuel it was time to set of on our way...…the wrong way round the motorway! After that little navigational hick-up we started heading towards Hastings on the South East coast with a few diversions along the way through a private fly fishing lake & some dusty back roads. Arriving in Hastings and too what was my first sight of a British beach; cascading waves, seagulls and a beach full of pebbles, no chance for sand castles here kiddies although we did see a penguin, well I though it was, Jayne though it was a sea bird of sorts, ahh yes Jayne sea birds do swim underwater.

Deciding not to camp up in Hastings for the nights we brave the ‘Alligator Spikes’ at the car park exit, to which I though all 4 tyres where going to simultaneously explode on contact, and headed to Camber Sands which is quite the holiday hot spot for the Brits in the summer. So after nearly careering of the hidden edge of the pebble dune and into the surf below, we bunkered down for our first night in a dark car park which weirdly had had the gate left open. Turns out Jayne can get quite paranoid, now I’m not easily frightened but when she starts blurting out thoughts of axe murderers outside ready to push up over the edge of the dune, I can’t help but be a tincy bit ‘alert’ and it wasn’t helped by the fact that it’s not only a holiday hot spot but also a lovers hot nest with more activity in the car park than the local brothel. Having making it through the night unscathed, cold but unscathed I awoke and opened the door to the most beautiful sight of the sun rising over the beach straight into the van filling me with warmth and happiness…before being slapped in the face with the stiff cold gale, I retreat back to the relative warmth of the van to don my snow jacket and see where the hell we are.
After sorting out shit out and delighting in a baby wipe shower we try to give our little cooker a burl & brew up some tea. Sounds relatively easy and quite refreshing after a hard nights sleep, but after a good 30 minutes of boiling and reaching the temperature of warm babies milk and unable to wait any longer it was time to polish off out luke warm tea and chomp down our All Bran before packing up our little table and chairs and head off – next stop Brighton… with Jayne driving

We were both pretty excited about getting to Brighton. Not only had we heard some really cool things about the place but it was also a Saturday night and was planning a biggin at the best club in town, The Honey Club. After finding a lush parking spot by the seaside we headed for the pier to check out the well doggy rides and have some fish and chips before retiring back to the van for some pre drinks and getting ready for the night ahead.
Feeling like shit after dousing my hair with a bottle of drinking water to try and ply my hair into some kind of presentable style, which inevitably looked like shit and with Jayne looking hot after a few strokes and teases and a shit load of spray we set off to what was going to be the night of the trip.
Once inside it felt like I was in Ibiza, although never being there, it just had this really cool vibe about it, then again it could have being the stilt walkers, the beach out the front or the fact that I was off my face and thought I actually was there, either way a great feeling all round and a wicked crowd. Well I’m, sure some really cool shanadegans happened that night, having a bit of trouble remembering it all, but with Jayne being Jayne and gets talking to bloody everyone we set off with this group and head to the Funky Budda Bar, also on the beach, before heading off to a hotel to continue the party. By this stage I think I’m, just a wobbly mess and pass out somewhere. Upon awaking & realising where I was, NOT in the van I made a mad exit shouting “Which way to the beach?” before running down the street and trying to find our van which I hoped to god hadn’t being towed as the parking meter ran out 3 hours ago, I wasn’t in any state to deal with such a situation. Well I found the van, not before a couple of heart skips after thinking I’ve lost the bloody thing, but instead of loosing the car I had lost Jayne. Oh well she’ll turn up I thought as I peeled the parking fine off the window and opened the sunroof before curling up into a ball in the back.

Well as luck would have it Jayne did turn up , thank god, as I needed a trusty navigator to get me out of this town, and before I could say “Which way Jayne?” she was reclined & sound asleep! Bitch, here I am struggling to keep my eyes open and with everything fuzzy and swaying unusually too much and I’m about to hit a 90 m/ph motorway! Well let me tell you, that was a white knuckle ride; not for Jayne anyway who’s in the corner muttering and sound asleep. Cars everywhere and trying to keep in between the ever narrowing white lines with traffic roaring past either side and the sun blinding my eyes all made worse by the temperature fluctuating up and down like a 50yo woman in menopause. I just bypassed every damn town and headed to the end of the motorway to Poole, wasn’t going to stop for anything.
There I am white mouthed from dehydration, sweating like a mofo and still clutching the wheel for dear life, what do I need I thought...…a shower!! ohhh yeah a shower. After 3 days on the road and a big night out under my belt I was a sticky mess and needed to wash all the filth away. Having not really thought about the whole shower situation before setting off I thought that a caravan park would do the trick and cure my urge, so I open my trusty map to find that I’m stuck right smack bang in the middle of two separate maps, joy!, well as least I thought I was, didn’t really have a fucken clue where the hell I was until I saw a sign saying ‘Rocky’s Leisure Village’.
Being a bit dubious at first following a sign saying Rocky’s Leisure Village, I think the word ‘Village’ was the most off putting and the fact that a guy called Rocky was running the joint, my urge for a shower overruled everything else and I set off down the road. Fortunately for us it was nothing sinister, just deserted, no one around, the whole office had being left open and all. So making the most of the opportunity I had a bit of a peek and walk around till I found a map out the back showing the shower blocks. You beauty! Well being winter the shower blocks were locked and right there the shower desire crushed.
With Jayne in the back now, and muttering “Where are we?”, “Just go to sleep already!” I decide to draw a close on the shower quest, for the night anyway and follow the sign towards the ferry. Well turns out the ferry goes to France and the next day we awoke in the French seaside resort of Cherbourge.

Only joking, instead just pulled up in a car park by the sea and bunkered down for the night.

Well for fuck sake Jason, I do go on!! Must be 5 pages already and I’m only up to SUNDAY!! Jesus Christ!
I’ll try and keep it short and sweet from now on.

For those of you still conscious…the saga continues………

After a wicked night sleep and feeling as good as gold, it was time to hit the road again. Destination Torquay in the South West.
Having a quick stop on the way for Exeter at West Bexington for what I thought would be a perfect opportunity to take a dip and freshen up, also happened to be a prime location for fisherman and hikers alike and with a massive inshore gutter deemed it probably wasn’t the best idea to do for a dip. So back on the road and heading for Exeter with Jayne at the wheel I was actually feeling slightly nervous at her driving, then again I’m just glad she wasn’t awake the day before to see me driving. Now I don’t have anything against women drivers but when you driving at 60 m/ph with your little pinkie controlling the beast one can’t help but fell a tiny bit nervous, unless it was of course the whole I’m a man and I should be driving and the lady knitting, ape urge taking over in me not that apes could knit mind you and didn’t want it turning all girlie now, think I drew the line with the Madonna CD which I disturbingly knew the words too all too many of the songs, think mum had something to do with that, cheers mum!

Anyhoo! Long story shot, get to Exeter, Jayne backs into a bollard, I get angry and go eat some pizza before we go to the leisure centre to wash off and after a bit of backyard mechanics on the boot where on our way to Torquay, with me driving of course

Torquay seemed like quite a nice town, shit all to do though like most of the other town we have been too along the coast, with the exception being Brighton. Got there around 5:30pm just as the sun was setting, hardly a drinking hole in the place little lone any activity. So we decide to keep on going straight through to Plymouth. Well low and behold nothing to do here either and since we are now in range of our maps I spot a little peninsular called Torpoint which seems like it could be a hive of activity. Well maybe I was delirious after driving all day but nothing out there except for windy roads lined by thick hedges and after a quite surreal ferry ride across the bay to get there where I exclaimed “Jayne! There’s a house on the ferry…with a roundabout…and street signs…oh..wait” before realising that indeed it wasn’t another ferry it was infract the land and our ferry had being moving for quite some time, well think it was about time to get some zzzzz’s.
So after quite literally driving round this peninsular multiple times for 2 hours we finally found a quite little pub and camped up in there carpark for what was to be the most bizarre night.

Was about 1am when I woke to the sound of car doors banging closed, wondering what the fuck was going on I stuck my head out the door only to be confronted by someone shinning there torch in my face then walking off! Absolutely speechless, and the fact that I thought we were about to get done for parking in a disabled parking space, I retreated back inside and peeled the curtain back to have another gander.
What was originally a deserted carpark when we arrived was not filled with 5 black Mercs and about 7 people walking with torches to the end of the rocky outcrop. Well not one wanting to go through this ordeal by myself I woke Jayne & told her what the hell was going on, to which she wasn’t too delighted about and pretended to go back to sleep. After this things just started getting really weird and bizarre. The guys walking with torches got onto a large boat, likened to a Coast Guard boat, that picked them up and motored across the water to about 50 meters in front of the car and shined a super bright flood light on the van! What the hell was going on here, Alright alright I’m not a disabled driver, I’ll move already if you really want me to. If they were Police surely they would have knocked on the door and asked us too move off or something.
I did manage to confirm that they where Police as when the group returned after there little cruise they were talking on the 2 way radios saying the registration had check out and it was OK.
Thinking that the ordeal was over and falling back to sleep, I woke again about an hour later to the swirl of blue flashing lists illuminating the van, god they are quite serious about the disabled community out here, even if it was 3am in the middle of nowhere. So after the thoughts of being towed into the bay or a SWAT team coming through the sunroof, I got thinking that maybe it might have had something to do with drugs, seeing as we were at a gateway to France on a dead Tuesday morning. Well fellas, hate to break it to ya, but I don’t think drug traffickers go driving round camping out in vans that you can spot a mile off with its snazzy paint job and all.

After waking in the morning and realizing we weren’t in the middle of some kind of exclusion zone we decided to head straight to Newquay as that must the where all the action is and we really had to get a move along as it was Tuesday already. Torpoint is absolutely amazing though, I liken it too Jurassic Park Island, minus the dinosaurs, with its massive cliffs overlooking the wide ocean and rolling green hills. As this was our first taste of Cornwell (a region of South West England) & dying of hunger as only eating pizza about, ooooo 20 hours ago we stopped off at this wicked little café on the beach and tucked down a full proper English Breakfast along with a absolutely proper milkshake, fucken delicious!

So wanting to get to Newquay as soon a poss we zoomed off and headed to the other side of Cornwell, the Atlantic side and the surfing city of Newuay. I could definitely live in a place like Newquay, well maybe retire there when I’m an oldie and if I had to live in England, can’t give up the big smoke just yet. It reminded me to much of home with the salt air, beautiful scenery and the relaxed atmosphere.
To make the most to the fresh salt air, without freezing my tits off I decided to go go-karting, as did Jayne after a bit of convincing and with karts that can reach 70 m/ph on a 1.2km track what a perfect way to lap up the salty surroundings. Well I only reached 40 m/ph…...was the kart OK, broken I think, but sill beat Jayne, so that’s all that matters really hehe.

After finding another lush parking spot, this time overlooking a rocky outcrop with a house and mini suspension bridge on top and the beach and Surf club on the other, we had a few drinks and headed off to tuck down some Mexican. Not having a giant stomach and wanting to let my hair down for the night and get shit faced I tucked into my half of the delicious prawn nachos and polished off the bottle of wine while Jayne finished off her 3 courses. I actually got quite intoxicated that night, unusually fast and after a heated discussion about guys wearing pink shirts and god knows what else, it was time to make a move before things got too heated; and what a life when you can relax in your van, looking up at the stars and sipping vodka while listening to some electro beats. Well somewhere in between the sipping, looking and listening I dozed off and awoke feeling like an absolute shit bag and not wanting to deal with the fact that we had left the car on all night to keep the tunes going and probably ran out of fuel by doing so, I decided to go for a bit of a dip in the Atlantic for the first time ever!
Having only got to waist deep water before I couldn’t feel my toes I dived in only to have the breath knocked out of me my the shear cold and surfaced to feel the numbing effect rapidly engulfing my legs. Certainly a sure fire way to freshen up.

Well that was it, our Cornish experience was over as we had to drive all the way back up to Bristol if we were to have any chance of getting back to London on time. I reakon you could spend a good solid week just driving round Cornwell, it doesn’t even feel like your in England anymore, is such a contrast from the typical English life I’ve seen and lived.
So after Jayne relieved herself in front of the car in the middle of the street, such a classy lady! We started the long journey up to Bristol through Dartmoor National Park, which ain’t like any national park I’m use too, just the opposite. Basically barren land with rocks and a few sheep scattered about; where’s the lush rainforest with tall oak trees lining the roads and wildlife jumping across the road guys??

With Bristol being the next stop we arrived in the arvo to peak-hour traffic and having already being in Bristol before had a slight idea where we were and drove up to Clifford, the la-de-da pompous part of town to find a park for the night. With every park we’ve had for the night on this trip we’ve always had a wicked view of something, but unfortunately all the parks overlooking the Clifford suspension bridge and gorge were all taken, so retired to a park in one of the side streets for the night. Not that it would have mattered as before heading out for another big night we decided to have a wee bit of a kip before the festivities. Well after a good 17 hour nap I woke to realised that I had indeed missed everything that night, not that Jayne was jumping out of bed to go out either!

It was now Thursday, just one day before we had to return the van. So after a spot of shopping we made out way towards the university city of Oxford where we planned our next move and scrubbed up for our return to the big smoke. The plan was to meet up with our mate Ibz and have a night out, Essex style! After picking up Ibz and venturing out to Southend-on-Sea where the Thames River starts, we decide to have a banging night in London town & park the beast out front of my flat before walking into Shoreditch for some boozy fun.

Well maybe I went a little too boozy as after having a couple of hours sleep it was time to get on the road again as we have to drop the van off by noon. No time for even a shower and I was right outside my own flat, right outside!!
It was time to tackle the London traffic again and not in the greatest of conditions managed to get through well, all be it pissing off a few people along the way.

That was it, it‘s all over, as time during the whole week had gone nice and slow, we had already caught the London Rush Syndrome and time was starting to speed out of control again.
Having unloaded all our stuff from the van it was time to say goodbye and drop it back off with Jayne following along behind we set off for the depot. Well after a bit of a fuel emergency on the motorway we dropped it off to Dennis who instinctively noticed the semi-circular depression in the back of his van straight away, and too top it off was handed a bus lane fine for driving in a bus lane literally 2 minutes after picking the van up. Oh dear what else was too come?

So that was our road trip, fucking awesome if you ask me, perhaps a little too rushed and too much time to reflect and think. Learned some interesting things about Jayne and got to see some beautiful countryside and coast line and picked an absolute stella week to go as there was no sight of rain, with sunny warm days all week and the week after our return was pissing down rain and snowing in London! Might have cost us a bit more than anticipated, but was worth every penny……

Driving in a bus lane: £100
Parking fine after a big night out: £30
Reversing into a unbeseen bollard: £300
Litres upon litres of Fuel : £290

Number of U-turns manoeuvred………countless

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/2604958

Well after slaughtering Japan in our opening match it was time to take on the world champions Brazil in what could be a history changing math.

Well history changing it wasn't, but definitely a bloody good match, I think they where quite shocked at out form as we definitely gave them a run for there money.

Now not knowing too much about the game of soccer and never having followed it I was quite surprised at how heart pumping it is when you team is actually playing, I think I might have contracted a mild case of World Cup Fever.

One better than being at the stadium in Germany, we watched the match in Brick Lane at the X Box Arena and it felt like we where right there, stadium seating, massive screens and a blaring speaker system not too mention the bench seats giving it the German feel.
Watching on with the predominant Aussie crowd my Brazilian mate Rodrigo got a bit too enthused when Brazil scored there first try and proceeded to dance on the bar and in circles in front of the crowd waving the Brazilian flag. Now us Aussies are pretty relaxed, but when everyone has caught the fever, plus the fact that its being 32 years since we have being in the World Cup and we have scored our very first World Cup try in the previous match, we don’t really appreciate having a try scored against us rubbed in our face.
So this in turn prompted the crowd to start throwing beers, some fully laden at Rodrigo until some Aussie bloke has run through the crowd and crashed tackled him the ground. Well that defiantly shut him up. They did buy him a beer latter in true Aussie spirit.

After the game we all got well pissed and ened up in a thai restraunt...in an English pub!!! all a bit wierd, was rather tasty though.

Well Brazil did win 2-0 but we definitely played a good game and still have a very good chance of advancing into the next round.

COME ON AUSSIES!!!!!!

Well what ended up being a rather eventful day, nearly didn't happen at all thanks to my sudden phone drowning the day before and know idea what Dave's phone number is. Thankfully I managed to quite ingeniously get hold of his number about 15 minutes before the train left and scrambled to the train station just in time.

Now I should introduce Dave, he seems to be the only mate that actually wants to leave the smog of London whenever possible and to do something. We met at my old flat share and although a Kiwi he doesn't seem too bad of a bloke, although he does have a weird eye thing doing on when traversing by train.

So off we chugged for the two hour trip towards Gloucester and through the paddocks of ugly sheep until we arrived at out destination and jumped into a cab...destination..."The Cliff"
It has to be said the majority of Brit's actually don't know about this event, when mentioning this activity to fellow work mates, I’d receive a blank stare followed quickly by "Your doing what? Nevea heard of that!, What ya wanna do that for?" So to actually to in a cab with a Englishman actually knowing something about this thing was a first quite informative, until he commented that we'd be better off hang gliding of this hill than rolling down the bloody thing. Ekk!!

Having not actually thought about the whole thing too much, but passionate about doing it, I didn't think the hill would be that steep at all, the pictures are quite deceptive though (as are mine) to the gradient. Upon seeing the hill for the first time, I was quite blown away with the shear drop and the thought of rolling off the side of a mountain was, well starting to disappear quite rapidly as where those ove my fellow cab mates.

Well fuck it I thought, I'd hadn't come all this way for nothing and wake up at some ungodly hour to get here.

Now being only 4 races, each with only 15 people racing and one race for the ladies, that left me with a 1 in 45 chance of actually racing!!, so the plan was to scramble with the side of the hill as fast as possible and placing ourselves in a prime position in the starting pack before the races started.
Needless to say, I hadn’t really thought that getting to the top would be such a challenge and discovered that I’m not as athletic I once was. In the end we blitzed past the families clambering to the dirt trying not to lost there grip and made it to the top in time for the festivities absolutely buggered. Turns out there is practically a paved road on the other side of the hill!

Well there we were standing high and sucking in the fresh country air as we contemplate what the hell we were about to do. "Will I survive? "Maybe I'll just break a leg or something?" "Oh god, I can't afford to be broken!" I thought, until being quickly brought back to reality by the surge of 200 odd blokes all pushing towards the point of no return, no turning back now, where in it for good.

With only 4 races you would think it was a relatively fast affair, besides the fact that there is a race every 20 minutes, the master of ceremonies was having quite a lot of difficulty keeping us contained behind the fences and when the races were delayed even more by the waiting of the only ambulance to return after a 1st race incident, people where starting to get a bit "eager", and Dave managed to be in a prime position to get wedged between the coveted cheese box and the surging pack and nearly breaking his leg. Nice one mate! break your leg BEFORE even racing

To solve all the commotion the master of ceremonies and security stepped back and just let a group of whoever wanted to roll, roll!
Must have being at least 30 or more people all rolling at one and you could fell the vibration from the thumps of bodies into the ground. This led us to being right on the edge and ready for the next race. By this time all the nerves where gone and I just wanted to roll already, hell we’ve being up there for 2 hours now, just roll the cheese mate!

Well the time had come, its now or never. Dave has managed to roll in the race before I as three extra races where put on without cheese to meet the demand. So I’m in the second line, nearly there, off they go and I’m looking down watching them tumble and flail about and thought fuck it, I’m going now!
So off I went behind the rest of the pack, about three other have gone just after me and where having our own little race in which we have managed to catch up to the back of the group before us.

For about the first half of the run I was doing quite well after a short run at the start I adopted the bum slide tactic which was all working well until I decided I was not going as fast as i wanted and stood up and started running again. It was at this point that things didn't go as well as I planned, I did manage to pick up speed though until tripping and smashing my left shoulder into the hill where I starting to roll on my side at quite considerable speed. I've somehow managed to be rolled upright again and have started running and the same bloody thing happened again, I’ve tripped and landed on my left shoulder again, only this time I heard quite a distinct "CRUNCH!!" and then rolled to the bottom on the hill in a muddy painful mess.

Turns out I didn’t break anything, just tore a few ligaments in which I can't move my arm about my head. All is on the mend now and I’m good as new.

Would I do it again?
Bloody oath I would. I recommend it to everyone, how many chances to you get in life to roll down a step hill with a crowd "ooooo"ing and "arghhhh"ing while chasing some of Gloucester finest cheese?

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/1518513

Well it started with my very first organised tour that I have ever willingly being on as only having 3 hours sleep I couldn’t really be arsed to work the whole thing out.
After a bit of confusion with our tickets (as we are the only ones actually going to LegoLand) we board the bus with the average age of about 60 years olds. Just when I thought I was about to have a relaxing journey out of London, I hear this mindless chatter over the speakers to which it’s our tour guide, who we have dubbed Marry Poppins, rambling on about all sorts of mindless facts about London. I can’t even tell you what she was talking about as after about the first sentence I was asleep to the tunes of my MP3 player.

After a rather peaceful sleep we awoke in the royal city of Windsor to check out the Queen’s house. Not only is Winsor know for it’s royal connections but it also has the shortest street in the UK and a leaning tea house!!, who woulda thought.
I really couldn’t think of a worse thing to do when your sleep deprived, that of tramping round a overly lavish house. Luckily that’s where our leg of being with the tour group finished, we where free to go where we wanted and where handed bus tickets to get back to London.
Now don’t get me wrong, the Queen seems like an alright bird, god knows what she actually does or why she needs such a big house, but is it really necessary to have gold plated ceilings and walls? Although the gun collection was quite impressive the rest was just pretty much so-so . Suell seemed to enjoy it though, all I wanted was to get a picture with the fluffy hated guard and get the hell to LegoLand.

We where the on the bus to LegoLand, this was what I had being waiting for. Being a self confessed Lego freak back in the day I couldn’t wait to go to a theme park where everything is built from Lego. Well turns out it aint, that the legoLand in Denmark but still was a well wicked times. I was running round like a little school boy, so much to do so little time, only got there around 2pm and had to do the lot by 5pm, arhhhhhh
So on the Lego train to the bottom of the hill where our first ride awaited us…the Crazy Spider. Looking at it, it doesn’t look like much at all really, just your typical spinning ride and being no ques as it was pissing down rain, why the hell not.
Well it might of being the most innocent ride, but fuck me it was intense. Your basically in one of many spider eggs that spin round on a big platform and your spin your own egg to your desired speed…harmless right? So off we go, spinning nice and gracefully until the ride operator stars announcing that “Number 3 egg is in the lead, ohhhh now it’s number 5”, not even realizing that it was a racing ride I’m not one to back down from a race, so there I am heaving the wheel of our egg sack round and round, asking for some support from Suell, well wasn’t going to happen as she was holding on for dear life and looking like she was about to throw up over me. But ignoring her crys for me to slow down we reached the number one spot…top egg if you will. There we are spinning round at break neck speed, my body getting slammed against the seat as the gravitational pulls took over. Now not having being an astronaut, I would liking it to being in your space capsule whilst re-entering earth atmosphere, why its linked to spiders is rather baffling. Well after a couple of minutes of heaving the wheel and clearly not getting any help Suell I became exhausted and we came third. Took me a while for my eyes to stop wobbling and get my feet together again whilst the kids are buckled in for another go, hardcore little fuckers.

Well LegoLand has it all, water rides, roller coasters, mechanical diggers, rock walls but by far the impressive is the miniature cities made out of Lego. I would have pictures of these marvellous creations but my camera was a little damp after being submerged in the “Team Challenge” water ride where clearly we were too heavy for the ride and ended up slamming into the wall at the end where my bag contents proceeded to empty into the pool. Turns out my phone was sucked into the pump room never to be seen again.

I have to say I was a bit dejected to say the least but life goes on and after the mini doughnuts I was feeling better already.

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/1518518

Well it was off for another chapter of the infamous Dave & J’s tour of England trips. This time we where off to see the old Roman city of Bath, and what a mouldy bath it was.
After getting over the hilarity of street signs with “Bath” in them, such as the National Health Service sign proudly pointing to the “Bath Walk-In Centre” we discovered the town to my surprise is quite a shopping district with all your big name “High Street” brands flaunting there goods along the streets.

So off we went to the main attraction, the Roman Baths, had a bit of a wonder round checking out where all the old Romans use to go for a scrub down. The actual main bath in the middle is quite big and one would imagine quite deep but yet is not fenced off, so basically anyone can jump into this slimy green cess pit of bubbling hot filth, surely they could drain it once in a while and give it a scrub. It reminds me of a friends swimming pool when I was back in school and “someone” forgot to clean it while it was a sweltering 38°, not happy Jan! At the end of the self guided tour you have the opportunity to try some the water that is pumped from the centre of the earth, none of this fancy fruity water, how about some of god’s finest…fresh, salty, warm water that tastes like fish, that could sell surley, they seem to be able to market anything these days, absolutely rancid water, most probably from the mouldy pond below us. blerkkkkk

Now I’m not sure what exactly I was expecting from bath, surely there is something else to do in the city, but apparently not, even the only bike hire place in town had shut down. So all we where left to do was to drink in the park and throw a ball round. Dave has this thing for tennis balls, give him one and he’ll happily throw it around for hours on end and I was keen to see weather my hand eye co-ordination, or any coordination skills for that matter had improved since I gave up playing any kind of ball sport back in the 90’s. Well I couldn’t believe it I was throwing and catching like a pro baseball player…well that might be a bit of an exudation but it sure felt good , mind you a was bloody sore the next day.

So that was Bath, not all that thrilling but a good day away from London and it was SUNNY

Oh god, I sound a bit jaded in this one don’t I, ekk must be time to leave England soon :D

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/1400841

Well it was confirmed today that im now working in one of London's famous clubs Ministry Of Sound!

As some of you may know already, I've worked in bars for a good few years now, on the floor collecting glasses and just. well too lazy too progress to the next logical step of bar tender.

But no more, im now a fully fleged bar tender, with bar blade and all ready to serve the dance crew of london there whatever beverage tickles there fancy.

It's wierd how this has worked out because after making the decision to become a bar tender, i wanted to work in a club as that's the music I love and need it for my master plan (bwwahahaha) and was knocked back a couple of times as i didn't have the required experience, then along comes Ministry, just like that...who said cold canvassing doesn't work!