Happy Xmas from a sunny Sydney

What’s this you say?  A blog update from the Yorkshire Expat before the month is out?  Surely he is not in month 7 already?  No folks, I’m not.  And I'm not writing specifically to gloat about the glorious weather and tell you to be safe on the recent outbreak of black ice (if you are reading from the UK).  No, I'm writing for much simpler reasons.  Let me explain.

There are a couple of reasons. 

Firstly, quite a lot has happened this month.  And we are what, only half way through it.  A trifle more, probably, before you get to reading this, so I thought I would treat you all to two installments in December.  Call it an early Xmas present from me to you J

You know how tiresome I can sometimes get, “waffling on” as a friend accused me of recently.  So by chunking into two episodes I am more likely to retain my loyal readership.  That’s assuming there is actually anybody reading this.  My sister always tells me she is the first to read it but I’m sure she is just trying to be nice.

And secondly, perhaps more importantly, more important than mere issues of me waffling on, is that I may not get to write a second blog.  You may not get to read a second blog.  Why is this?  Well, the 21^st December is mooted to be the end of the world.  The Apocalypse.  A Mayan prophecy?  It could even be the infamous Zombie Apocalypse but I must admit to switching off when I hear people talk of their contingency plans in the event of an attack.  

I hear that we need to find high ground.  Avoid Coles the supermarket (apparently Zombies would laugh at your stupidity going there and come and snaffle you up).  I’m not sure if it is specifically Coles that poses a threat.  Maybe you would be safe in Woolworths.  Who knows?   The sea is no defence either, remembering zombies can walk on the sea bed.  How could you ever forget!  Basically, if they come, we are up the creek without a paddle.  So just make sure you have your “zombie survival kit” under your bed.  A few tins of beans, water and a shovel should suffice.  Apparently.

Should they come for us*, I want you all to know, I love (loved) you.  Just in different ways.

On a lighter note, the festive party season has commenced.  We have had the work Xmas party, which was very enjoyable.  How could it not be, 200 IT staff in one room together? *tries to keep a serious face*.  We managed to circumvent the free bar closing at 2.30pm by tactically ordering bottles of wine from different, unsuspecting wait staff.  I managed to stop myself from drinking a whole bottle of Cabernet, due to the fact I had a 5.15pm Spanish lesson.  And a true story; what would the odds have been on one of the night’s phrases being, el esta borracho? (he is drunk).  Madre mia.

At the party, a friend said to me, “I have not been this drunk since….September 2009”.  Did I admit that I hadn’t been drunk since…the weekend?  Not on your nelly.

The second Xmas party drinks were hosted by the recruitment agency I got my job through.  Myself and a colleague went along after work expecting a sedate evening.  We should have known this wasn’t going to be the case when we arrived at the venue, a swanky city bar, and were given the wristbands for the free drinks.  And when I say free drinks, we had a choice of a full bar.  That said, I probably shouldn’t have been drinking beer, followed by red wine, followed by spirits.  Or should I?  I had no Spanish lesson to go to, or no other pressing engagements.  I think the alcohol was loosening a few tongues and some of the stories of swinging suburbia in Sydney were quite eye opening.  In another of the tales, exactly how do the knickers of a friend’s wife end up in the tree in your garden?  My weekends are positively tame in comparison.

My last weekend comprised me loaning a Xmas tree off a Twitter friend.  I had mentioned on the micro blogging site that I was on the lookout for a tree and a Twitter follower in Sydney replied that they had one I could borrow.  A few Tweets later and arrangements were made for the drop on Saturday.  So, thanks @NickiGirlStar I still haven’t put it up yet, but the wine remains in the fridge ready for the task. 

On that note, I will bid you farewell, let you get back to your Baileys, mince pies and Bing Crosby soundtrack, and wish you all a Happy Xmas. 

Eat, drink and be very merry.

*Important note for mum, I don’t really believe the Zombies are coming.  I know how you take everything I say so seriously.  And yet I still love you.

And into month 5 we rock

I say it every month.  I will probably keep saying it every month.  So, apologies in advance.  Am I in month 5 of this new life already?  The days and weeks are flying by, to the extent that I am already one and half months into my 6 month work contract.  Where did those weeks go?

Now, we are on the run up to Xmas, and some well needed time off work.  I suspect the next few weeks will go equally as fast.  The second half of my Spanish course.  Which, by the way, I am really enjoying.  Something I should have done a long time ago.  Regular gym visits, now I have formally committed and joined on a 6 month contract.  Nothing to do with the manager being a very attractive girl who twisted my arm into joining.  Nothing at all.  How shallow do you think I am?  Football twice a week, with the odd after football beer (or 3).  We do play on Thirsty Thursday after all, and from what I have seen the last few weeks, Thursday looks a particularly good day to wet your whistle.

Santa lording it over Darling Harbour

Did I mention Xmas?  Oh yeah, I'm sure I have seen Santa around town.  But if it wasn’t for the incongruous tree, basking in the mid-day sun in Martin’s Place, or the one below lighting up the interior of the Queen Victoria Building (QVB) one could be forgiven for forgetting we are in the Yuletide season.  Yes, some shops have trimmed up.  Or at least, made a token effort.  Some of the Xmas trees they have put up have seen better days.  If there was a “Comic Relief” charity for sorrowful looking trees, these specimens are the ones you would see on your screen.  Paraded against a backdrop of “Everybody Hurts” by REM.  I saw one in Starbucks that looked as though it had had all its pine needles stolen.  With all the money Starbucks are saving on unpaid taxes in the UK, you would think they could afford a healthier looking tree.

QVB xmas tree, or part of it.  It goes through 3 floors

With Xmas comes yet another birthday.  Not that I have ever worried about them.  What’s age but just a number.  I’ve never let it define me, or influence how I live my life.  That said, I do use the time, strategically placed at the end of the year, to reflect on what I have achieved the preceding year.  And this year, it is fair to say, has been a productive one for me personally, one in which I feel I have continued my growth as a person.  Moving to the other side of the world, on my own, was never going to be easy.  But it was something I wanted to do, and so to coin a phrase, “I felt the fear and did it anyway”.  

And here we are, entering month 5, and the festive season.  A time I am looking forward to, with visits from friendly faces from home, to help celebrate Xmas and New Year.  I suspect it will be a fun filled time, with plenty liquid refreshment and a champagne fuelled, inebriated Skype call home on Xmas Day to speak to mum, my sisters and my nephews and niece.  As I nurse the resulting hangover, I’ll be wondering what next year will bring as I continue to search for my raison d’etre.

Glebe Street Fair

The last month in Sydney has seen my going to a few street fairs on the weekends.  These are always bigger events than I anticipate.  I went to the Glebe Street Fair the other day and was staggered by how busy it was.  Glebe Point Road was full of market stalls, end to end, with evocative food smells drifting in the air, and the number of Sydney-siders who had come out in their droves to support it was truly impressive.  A fantastic community effort all round.  I had a mooch around, sustained by a coffee from Mano Espresso, as recommended by a new twitter friend, @NickiGirlStar.  Twitter really does open up a world of local knowledge when used well.  I have also been getting good coffee and food recommendations from @msnessiel, another virtual Sydney neighbour from cyber space.  It is not who you know, but rather, who you don’t know.

One recommendation that didn’t come from Twitter was “Scenic Dogging”.  I didn’t know what it was either.  Honest.  On a recent day out at Bradley’s Head, Mosman, (one of Sydney’s best look out points) on arrival a friend said it looked a great place for this afore mentioned, unknown to me, activity of scenic dogging.  I’m not sure what surprised me more.  The fact that I immediately agreed with him, once he explained to naïve little me what it meant, or who the suggestion came from.  Maybe that young man has secrets we don’t know about.  Not as innocent as he appears.  He did seem rather well acquainted with the bush up there.  Stop it!  You know I mean’t the Australian bush.  Such filthy minds.

As we roll into December, we usher in summer.  Scooter rides in thongs (the Australian version), long lazy days at the beach, apple based alcoholic refreshments in the local.  Spending the evening on a new hobby.  Counting freckles.  The sun brings them out you see, and it’s a good barometer of how well you are catching the sun.  Whilst always remembering the sunscreen.  Which is as tenuous a link as is needed to re-post this fantastic song again. Sunscreen song.  Working on getting the tan just right for when Pommie friends visit, and I can sufficiently gloat.  Well, after all, isn’t that why I moved here?

Hasta luego chicos and see you in month 6.

You have a choice...

Too much choice!

“We are our choices”, said Jean-Paul Sartre.

Which would be OK, if we were actually able to choose.  But that is where the problem starts.

You want to go out for dinner.  A restaurant would be the logical place to start.  But what type of food do you want to eat?  This used to be a simple decision, a process of eliminating a couple of choices and off you go.  Now things are much more complex.  Not only do you have the age-old dilemma of nationalities, curry over chinese, or maybe the English stalwart, fish and chips.  Now you have the problem of nationalities joining forces and creating “fusions” of each.  The word fusion and it’s morphing into a genre of food probably originated in Australia.  A cultural melting pot in which many foods converge, and then merge, giving fusion cuisine.

A great concept.  To begin with.  But has it gone too far?  

Quite possibly when we have Japanese/French, or Australian/Mexican fusion restaurants amongst others.  I don’t want sushi on my pancakes.  If I order a few bbq’d shrimps or a bit of tender kangaroo, I don’t want it in a taco.  Stop!

Technology is as bad.  Not many years ago, going into a shop and asking for tablets would usually result in the question, how strong sir, is it for a migraine.  Now you are more likely to be asked, what screen size?  Retina display?  Do you want jellybean, ios or a google based one?  Help, shoot me now. The market seems awash with tablets and not many a month goes by without either a new launch, or a “refresh” as they are euphemistically called.

And mobile phones?  Don’t start me on mobile phones.  Seriously.  Don’t. 

I recently was looking at ways of organizing the paper based notes I’m making in my Spanish classes.  This proved to be a minefield.  Evernote?  OneNote?  Useless note? (OK, I made that one up).  And where to store them?  The mythical cloud seems to be the place these days.  In Skydrive?  Apple’s cloud?  Dropbox?  The irony of DropBox is the tagline, “Simplify your life”.  Argh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Is it too late to want to go back to when the world was a simpler place? We all had the same Nokia phone? People weren’t messing with my food.  My capacity to save documents was determined by the memory available on whatever device I was using.

Am I kidding myself?  I fear the answer is yes.  Have we gone too far in western society?  Have we gone too far full stop?  There are books written on minimalism.  In fact, there are dozens of books on minimalism.  Appreciate the irony in this?

And coffee shops.  Further irony.  The more independent coffee shops we have, offering more choice, they all suddenly look the same.  What was once the homogeneity of the big chain coffee shops, has now morphed into homogenous streets of endless independent coffee shops, all offering the same arty flat whites, or lattes with a pretty little flower made in the milk on the top.  The only way they can differentiate themselves now is by going to such extremes as offering overpriced vacuum made coffee (also called siphon), as seen so long ago as 1945 in the film “Brief Encounter”.  And people are paying for this.  It’s complete nonsense.  Give me an Italian espresso house any day.  Without menus and silly offerings such as skinny decaf soy lattes.  You want coffee, you pay your euro and you get a shot of pure gold.  You want a ridiculous concoction that involves messing with the heart and essence of coffee making?  There is the door.

Well, that’s my rant over.  I just suppose I am going to have to deal with the abundance of choice, despite how it makes me feel.

In the meantime, fish and chip pizza anyone?

And if you want proof that too much choice paralyses our decision making abilities, Google “the jam experiment” which details a study by an expert in the field, Columbia University Professor Sheena Iyengar.  In 1995 she conducted an interesting experiment that highlighted just how difficult we find it to make a purchase when given too much choice.

Drinks, art, football and drinks

As I promised in my last blog, there are a few things that I was going to update you on.  Things I had been up to since my last dispatch.  Not that much of it has been overly exciting but my mum seems to enjoy reading about it.  And it saves me the cost of a stamp, sending her a real letter.  So mum, this is for you, but you may be sharing it with many of my other friends.

A couple of weekends ago saw me attending the annual beer festival at the Australian Hotel (pub, remember) in the Rocks.  I met up with a mate from England who was over here with work.  Budget constraints within Lloyds Banking Group means that they can no longer afford to provide biscuits for team meetings.  However, they can fly a couple of people business class to the other end of the world for beer festivals.  I was assured by Steve that he was also here to work on some other stuff, but I’m not so sure.  I think Steve thought I wanted to meet up with him as we had not seen each other for a while.  Actually, the real reason was that I was hoping he was going to return the box of Lapsang Souchong tea that I lent him in 2003.  I ended up very disappointed.  That said, we had an excellent day that seamlessly segued into an evening bar crawl around some of Sydney’s less touristy pubs.

With a head that was as tender as a heavily worked over steak, I again met up with Steve and Andy on the Sunday, to do the Bondi to Coogee coastal walk, along with Scott and Kelly.  It was like “Yorkshire’s day out”.  All we needed was for one of the cafes along the way to start selling Yorkshire Puddings.  It didn’t happen.  We picked a good weekend for the walk as it was the “Sculptures by the Sea” event.  A random collection of art pieces placed along the walk; some better than others in my humble opinion.  But then, I’m no art critic.  I can’t tell a Manet from a Monet.

Tuesday of the following week saw me attending my first ever Spanish class.  Something that I have been threatening to do for years.  For a long time I have been dipping in and out of Spanish language books, listening to Spanish language podcasts, and even immersed myself in Spanish for 3 months last year whilst travelling around South America.  For the first time I am now formalizing my learning and have started an 8 week, level 1 course.  I have grand intentions of continuing post this course and taking my learning to a level where I could actually have a conversation in Spanish.  Some cynics have suggested that it is my way of trying to meet dark haired, buxom senoritas.  Me? 

My weeks really are beginning to develop a structure, and this continues on Thursday nights with me signing up to an outdoor 5 a-side futsal league.  Futsal is an extremely popular sport around the world, just not so in the UK.  It is essentially “normal” 5 a-side but with a small, less bouncy ball, large goals, and mainly no contact.  The no contact thing is the hardest to get used to, especially with a referee as fastidious on the rules as the one we have each week.  That aside, it is great fun and I’ve met another bunch of lads, both European and Australian.

Two other events of note have been Balmoral Uncorked and the Air BnB party.  Balmoral Uncorked is an annual event at my local beach.  Various wineries of the Hunter Valley set up stall and allow you to taste, and subsequently purchase their many fine drops.  Complemented by stalls selling cheeses, olive oils and various other foods, you had everything you could need for a fabulous Sunday afternoon.

For those not familiar with Air BnB, it is a global website whereby people advertise rooms in their homes to give traveller’s a more authentic experience than staying in a faceless hotel.  I used the site for my first month in Australia, which is where I was unfortunate lucky enough to have met Steph.  Based in San Francisco, the founders of Air BnB held a party on Cockatoo Island in Sydney for hosts and their guests.  So I went along with Steph, together with Darrol and Claire, two more guests that have stayed with Steph.

Not knowing what to expect I have to admit I was blown away.  Ferries were laid on every 30 minutes to shuttle us to the island from Circular Quay.  The bar was free all night.  It was, I kept checking!  And with a great selection of bottled beers, wines and cocktails.  There was free food served up from the excellent food trucks that have been doing the rounds of Sydney recently.  And once the guests were suitably inebriated, there was a DJ spinning some quality tunes, allowing us all to make idiots of ourselves on the dance floor.  Brilliant.  Oh, I did I mention the beautiful actress, Mila Kunis, was there too?  And her eyes are even more captivating real life.  She was with some fella called Ashton Kutcher who is mates of the website founders and did a little speech on their behalf.  

The last couple of weekends have been very quiet and tame in comparison, but judging by the number of shops getting in the festive spirit, I guess Xmas is just around the corner.  That being the case, I better start consolidating my finances and make sure I have enough to celebrate Xmas in style, have a rocking New Year’s Eve and usher in 2013 and all it holds.

Til the next time amigos...