Australia

I told almost everyone I knew that I was coming back to Australia for the Christmas holidays, so imagine my surprise when there was no red carpet leading out of the plane to the airport when I touched down, or when they told me to line up in the commoners line at immigration instead of the VIP/Diplomats line, or that there would be no limosine full of super models waiting to greet me, and that I'd have to catch a train into Sydney.

But my time in Australia was great. I spent my first night in Sydney, having had no sleep and little food on the flight over, getting off-my-face drunk while suffering from the flu-from-hell. I think that the moral of this story is not to go drinking while sick. I ended up drinking until 4 in the morning, and had to wake up the next morning at 10 to catch a flight to visit my parents. The moral of this story is not to catch a plane when both sick and hungover.

One of my big goals while in Australia was to get my hair cut. Getting my hair cut in Japan always has the potential to turn into a drama if I'm not careful. For example, getting my hair cut in Japan is usually at least 2 to 3 times more expensive than it is in Sydney. Mostly because the barber/hairdresser insist on washing your hair, massaging your scalp, and then deftly running a razor over your face while you sit there, head back, shampoo still in your eyes, fingers crossed hoping that he doesn't nick your jugular. So far, so good, but I just want a simple bloody haircut. On days when I feel like going a little crazy, I might let them put wax in it, but just cut the damn hair.

So I waited until I came back to Oz to have my hair cut, and I left it until the morning of the day that I was flying from the town my parents live in to go back to Sydney. Figured that I should get all spruced up for my week of frolicking with friends in the big smoke. So I woke up, stumbled down the stairs, and mum is on the phone booking me into one the few hairdressers in the area that have an opening. "11:45 or 1:30?" mum asks, "1:30" says I, "1:30" mum says into the phone. All sorted. So I rock up to the hairdresser at 1:30, walk in, and I tell the lady behind the counter that I'm there a haircut.

"How would you like it done?", she asks. "With scissors would be nice...", I thought to myself. Then she looks down at the book and said "I'm sorry, we're booked out for the day".

"I made a booking this morning", says I.

"Your booking was for 11:45. Sorry." she responds. Liar! "I can fit you in later in this afternoon".

"That's no good, I'm flying out at 6:20pm."

"Well, I can cut your hair at 6pm..." she offers.

What? WHAT!?! It takes at least 30 minutes from town to get to the airport, not to mention having to check in, be subjected to a cavity search, etc. Why would she even suggest it? Wasn't happy.

--------------Some photos of Sydney---------




I'd like to thank some people for my time in Australia:

• Mum - Cheers! You're tops! Thanks for giving birth to me - best thing you ever did!
• Brian - For letting me stay at your place, and for driving me around.
• Anna & Matt - Congratulations on the engagement. But Anna, if it doesn't work out, you know my contact details, so give me a call. And Matt, if it doesn't work out, you know my contact details, but don't bother calling because I'll be with Anna...
• Suzy - For being certifiably insane - being with you makes me feel normal.
• Leebie - For being so angelically pure and nice - being with you makes me feel like a drugged up, whoring heathen - whereas infact, my life is pretty dull.
• Scott - For letting me crash at your place, and keeping me up drinking until 4am the night before my 10 am flight...
• Loz - For helping me buy clothes... with you're help, the ladies have been falling all over themselves trying to talk to me.
  

The story so far...

To date, these are the only countries I've visited/lived in. I hope to remedy this in the next few months.

create your own visited countries map

Winter Wonderland

Who'd have thought that there could be anything better than lying on a Sydney beach on a hot summer day, slowing cooking yourself, and turning over like a rotisserie sans the stick up the arse - but there is! It's the first snow of the winter in Tokyo - and there's lots of it.

I woke up this morning, in a hurry because I was trying to get to the movies on time, and I needed to iron my new favourite shirt, so I was running down the corridor in my underwear to get to the laundry on my floor. I wasn't worried because it was reasonably early on a Saturday morning, and I was on the guys floor, so if I did encounter a girl who was horribly offended at seeing me half-naked (and they never are... ), I could come back with a retort like "Well what are you doing on the guys floor this early??? HUH!?!", but probably something wittier than that.

Anyway, I was rushing down a very cold corridor and I saw something out of the corner of my eye... a snowflake! Actually, there were more than that - millions in fact, all clumped together on the window sill, and falling out of the sky... SNOW! I was giddy excited, and I couldn't think what to do first - iron my shirt? call everyone I've ever met? take photos? So I went to get my camera, and took as many photos as my camera's battery could handle, and while it recharged, I was getting ready to go out - the friend I was going to watch the movie with (Aunty I) would just have to wait if I was running late... it was snowing!

And then getting to the local train station even took a lot of effort - I kept stopping to take photos. Everything looks better when covered in snow - train lines, road signs, the carcass of the dead crow that's still lying in the garden out the front of my dorm, even the freaky spider statue at Roppongi Hills (see below).

I got to the cinema, and as I wait for Aunty I, it dawns on me - in the similarly inspired way that an apple falling gave Newton the idea of gravity - a clump of snow that fell from the roof onto my shoulder convinced me that a snowball fight with her would be an utterly brilliant way to herald in the snow season in all its snowy goodness. I prepared my arsenal (left), and when she turned up, I started pelting her with them... She tried to retaliate, and she put up a good show, but with a ready-made arsenal, the wisdom of Sun Tzu, and an umbrella to deftly deflect her attempts - I won.

Of course people were staring at us, but I'm kinda used to that...

Here are some more photos from today. I'll try and get some more tomorrow.

------The Gauntlet (here is what it looks like in summer)------




-------------------------The Backyard------------------------


-------------------------Train lines------------------------


--------------------A pathway to nowhere-------------------

Kallun the Recluse

I've been in an introspective mood for the past few days - which is not that unusual for me, as those who know me well can attest.

But this time, to assist me in my ruminations on the meaning of life, I have my favourite songs on a playlist on my iPod, I've bought a bottle of bourbon, and a 2L bottle of coke, I'm going to sit on 30cm wide balcony, stare up at the neon-lit sky and I ain't leaving the room or answering the phone until I finish both...

Wish me luck.

My mortal enemy

I have a mortal enemy. An archnemesis, if you will. Like I'm Sherlock Holmes, and he's Moriarty - but it's not a question of intellect. Like I'm Luke Skywalker, and he's Darth Vader - but without the whole paternity problem. Like I'm Optimus Prime, and he's Megatron - but a lot less geeky.

My archnemesis is the waiter down at the local Indian restaurant. The food is great, the decor is disturbingly pink (but bearable), the service staff is generally ok, but my waiter is the devil incarnate, and it's really starting to bug me.

For example, I was having dinner with two friends last night, and one of my friends and I decide to order the 2 Singha (Thai beer). Archnemesis comes back with two bottles, and proceeds to pour one bottle into my glass, and then empties the remainder of the bottle into my friends glass... and then pours the 2nd bottle into his glass to fill it up, and then leave the single beer bottle, half full, on the table in between us as though to say "You wanna drink the rest of it? You're gonna have to fight for it, fellas".

What the hell is that??? I was stunned. Gobsmacked. It was like the whole thing was happening in slow motion, and so many things to say were running through my head that I could decide which one would be best, and by the time I had settled on one - "What the #$#% do you think you're doing, dickhead!!" - the guy had gone.

Never in my life have I been witness to such a spectacular display of stupidity... until I had to go and pay for the bill. It came to 9,200 yen, and so we handed over 10,000 yen, expecting to get some change. He counted the notes and looked at me like I was a dithering idiot, and said "You're 2000 yen short"... I counted the notes, and unless the high school maths curriculum in Australia had incorrectly led me to believe that 10x1000 yen notes equaled something other than 10,000 yen, we had, in fact, handed over more than enough money to pay for the bill. Having counted it, I handed it back to him with my confused frowning face and slight smile, as if to say "No you imbecile! I'm not 2000 yen short, count it again, and kindly kiss my arse." Sure enough, Australian high school maths won out. He smiled back apologetically, handed back a 1000 yen note and said "Sorry sir, you were right. Now all you need to do is give me 200 yen."

What!?! "You need to pay 200 yen," he said again, pointing at the register display. I'm sure I probably had 200 yen in my wallet (2x100 yen coins), but having long since lost my patience with my archnemesis, I put the 1000 yen note back on the counter and said "No, you need to give me 800 yen change."

"Oh yes. I forgot about that note..." and laughed.

He does something to bug me everytime I go. There will be a reckoning one day. I can clearly see me shoving the nam fairly down his throat in the not too distant future.

I'm an addict...

One of the first steps in curing an addiction is to acknowledge that you're addicted. I'm addicted to Sudoku... and how! I've been busy travelling around the country (and world), so I haven't had much of a chance to post anything new recently, but I will when I get back to Japan next monday. If you need to kill time, and keep your mind active, check it out.