Cliff Richard On A Guillotine
It has been an unorthodox Christmas to say the least. It went something like this:
23/12/06: Arrived in Sydney after a very enjoyable week in Melbourne with Ana Louise, Emma, and Michelle. We rented a swanky apartment, cooked a few times, ate out and generally enjoyed ourselves and each others company. I had missed them- there's nothing quite like being in the general vicinity of Ana and cohorts. It never gets boring anyway. They were all in excellent form and are gearing up for travels in South American early next (or this, I suppose) year.
Got the train out to Terrigal, a small beach community north of sydney and were met by Andree and Crona, two friends working in the ED of the nearby Gosford hospital. We then installed ourselves in their big rambling beach house (waves crashing within earshot) and walked the shore, catching up. Then it was down to the serious business of getting food and drink organised for the following days. I was given responsibility for Christmas eve dinner, which was a bit of a challenge as there would be twelve people around the table and calculating numbers etc proved a bit of a chore. Finally settled ona Jamie Oliver seafood pasta dish using snapper and calimari accompanied by salads. Starter: mushroom bruschetta.
Which was fine, in theory.
24/12/6:
Flurry of activity on all fronts between cleaning, tidying, prep work and general messing around. Most of the day was spent getting stuff ready for christmas eve and day dinners and I had only a short while to pop out and buy presents for the lads which were:
A reiki CD, a "mood ring", and a bottle of sarsparilla (Big Lebowski reference) for Dave
Choclate chip cookies, moisturiser and a Helen Fielding novel for Mark
A compendium of Harrison Ford films for John
As you can probably tell, joke presents ruled although worryingly, Dave was delighted with his reiki CD. I think he may be turning into a bit of a cloudfarmer. India will only exacerbate this. I am giving serious consideration to calling his mother so that she may put him back on the path of good old fashioned McQuaid Catholicism and arrange a quck marriage before he loses the run of himself completely.
We had dinner, chatted. I was presented with a bottle of Pinot Noir for my efforts, which was nice. We then strolled up the street to the house of some of the other people working in the ED for a bit of chat and a glass fo wine. It was unbelievably, excruciatingly, overwhealmingly dull. I was stuck beside some yammering gobshite who burned my ear off about what he called "the true meaning of medicine". I could never understand why doctors have a reputation for being arrogant obnoxious gobsheens. Now I do.
Back to the house. The electricity went off due to a flash storm so we played charades by candlelight. I was saddled with "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" by John. I reciprocated with "Gorky's Zygotic Mynci".
Off to bed.
25/12/06:
Woke at 8 (old habits die hard) to find that Dave had already been up for an hour. We pottered around, had some (you're not going to believe this, Mam) cornflakes with tea and exchanged gifts. Everyone had a bit of a laugh.
My stash:
A "guess that wine" boardgame from Dave
A model surfboard (I had been hit in the face by one in NZ) and a squidgy stress thingy in the shape of a can of Victoria Bitter (ref: I'm the least stressed of us and I hate VB) from Mark
A Modern Lovers CD from John (no joke- I just like them)
Mass was funny. In place of Fr Fergus Generic we got Petr, a Polish priest with great command of english but idiosyncratic phrasing and pronunciation. "The maost impaorthant theeng abaot Kressmash ees..". The altar was flanked by PowerPoint presentations showing the text of the mass and the words to the hymns. As for the choir- well, they may have been hot stuff when the boys arrived home back in '45, but now- hmm.
Back at the ranch we drank tea, ate biccies, played with our presents and chatted about the different ways each of our families "did" christmas. Everyone seemed surprised at presents on Christmas eve. I fact, noone seemed to make a big deal of it at all. Interesting how things vary. Other than that, Christmas day was as always- happy, overfed people strewn about, reading talking, watching television. We had to got to another party later that evening (I slipped away once "I saw true meaning of me bollix" guy edging closer) and I ended up talking to a girl called Liya, from London, originally Indian. Well, call me old fashioned but I don't make a habit of chatting up women on Christmas day. So we agreed to meet for coffee on St Steven's day instead (she suggested Boxing day, but I didn't know what she was talking about).
Like I said. Weird.
26/12/06:
Met Liya for coffee. She was interesting. We had a nice conversation over moccachipfrappeppermintoilatinos (or whatever fucking concoction Starbucks are serving these days) and took a drive out to Avoca, a nearby beach area. Lovely scenery, more chat but we both agreed that given the brevity of my visit it would be unwise to start anything. We may meet again at some stage, however,as she is only a flight away from home. Who knows, Diarmaid, she might even have a cute friend curious as to how nice these Irish boys really are.
I'm joking. Still, it's funny the people you meet.
THE NEW YEAR:
Sydney is famous for fireworks displays on New Year's night so we strolled downtown to try to get a good viewing position for midnight. Stopped for a few drinks in (sigh) an Irish bar and continued along toward the harbour. At twelve, the whole place exploded in the most impressive lightshow I've ever seen. It look fantastic, the bay illuminated with a thousand lights shot off the harbour bridge. Fantastic.
Then we lost PJ.
There were approx two million peope in the bay area so finding him was a little difficult but miraculously, we did. Soon after 12, we all just wanted to go home, as the streets had descended into mayhem, with fights breaking out all over the plave despite a heavy police presence. Groups of 20-30 lads prowled around looking for violence and the atomosphere turned sour. I've never seen anything like it. It was hard to believe that a city could be so magnificent and yet so inglorius in almost the same moment. We'd had enough and walked back to the hotel and went to sleep.
THE NEXT MORNING
I felt fine, walked to an internet cafe and composed this masterpiece. Shortly I may have some lunch. Generally, I am looking forward to leaving, and I never intend to live here.
As they used to say in MASH, that is all.
23/12/06: Arrived in Sydney after a very enjoyable week in Melbourne with Ana Louise, Emma, and Michelle. We rented a swanky apartment, cooked a few times, ate out and generally enjoyed ourselves and each others company. I had missed them- there's nothing quite like being in the general vicinity of Ana and cohorts. It never gets boring anyway. They were all in excellent form and are gearing up for travels in South American early next (or this, I suppose) year.
Got the train out to Terrigal, a small beach community north of sydney and were met by Andree and Crona, two friends working in the ED of the nearby Gosford hospital. We then installed ourselves in their big rambling beach house (waves crashing within earshot) and walked the shore, catching up. Then it was down to the serious business of getting food and drink organised for the following days. I was given responsibility for Christmas eve dinner, which was a bit of a challenge as there would be twelve people around the table and calculating numbers etc proved a bit of a chore. Finally settled ona Jamie Oliver seafood pasta dish using snapper and calimari accompanied by salads. Starter: mushroom bruschetta.
Which was fine, in theory.
24/12/6:
Flurry of activity on all fronts between cleaning, tidying, prep work and general messing around. Most of the day was spent getting stuff ready for christmas eve and day dinners and I had only a short while to pop out and buy presents for the lads which were:
A reiki CD, a "mood ring", and a bottle of sarsparilla (Big Lebowski reference) for Dave
Choclate chip cookies, moisturiser and a Helen Fielding novel for Mark
A compendium of Harrison Ford films for John
As you can probably tell, joke presents ruled although worryingly, Dave was delighted with his reiki CD. I think he may be turning into a bit of a cloudfarmer. India will only exacerbate this. I am giving serious consideration to calling his mother so that she may put him back on the path of good old fashioned McQuaid Catholicism and arrange a quck marriage before he loses the run of himself completely.
We had dinner, chatted. I was presented with a bottle of Pinot Noir for my efforts, which was nice. We then strolled up the street to the house of some of the other people working in the ED for a bit of chat and a glass fo wine. It was unbelievably, excruciatingly, overwhealmingly dull. I was stuck beside some yammering gobshite who burned my ear off about what he called "the true meaning of medicine". I could never understand why doctors have a reputation for being arrogant obnoxious gobsheens. Now I do.
Back to the house. The electricity went off due to a flash storm so we played charades by candlelight. I was saddled with "The Unbearable Lightness of Being" by John. I reciprocated with "Gorky's Zygotic Mynci".
Off to bed.
25/12/06:
Woke at 8 (old habits die hard) to find that Dave had already been up for an hour. We pottered around, had some (you're not going to believe this, Mam) cornflakes with tea and exchanged gifts. Everyone had a bit of a laugh.
My stash:
A "guess that wine" boardgame from Dave
A model surfboard (I had been hit in the face by one in NZ) and a squidgy stress thingy in the shape of a can of Victoria Bitter (ref: I'm the least stressed of us and I hate VB) from Mark
A Modern Lovers CD from John (no joke- I just like them)
Mass was funny. In place of Fr Fergus Generic we got Petr, a Polish priest with great command of english but idiosyncratic phrasing and pronunciation. "The maost impaorthant theeng abaot Kressmash ees..". The altar was flanked by PowerPoint presentations showing the text of the mass and the words to the hymns. As for the choir- well, they may have been hot stuff when the boys arrived home back in '45, but now- hmm.
Back at the ranch we drank tea, ate biccies, played with our presents and chatted about the different ways each of our families "did" christmas. Everyone seemed surprised at presents on Christmas eve. I fact, noone seemed to make a big deal of it at all. Interesting how things vary. Other than that, Christmas day was as always- happy, overfed people strewn about, reading talking, watching television. We had to got to another party later that evening (I slipped away once "I saw true meaning of me bollix" guy edging closer) and I ended up talking to a girl called Liya, from London, originally Indian. Well, call me old fashioned but I don't make a habit of chatting up women on Christmas day. So we agreed to meet for coffee on St Steven's day instead (she suggested Boxing day, but I didn't know what she was talking about).
Like I said. Weird.
26/12/06:
Met Liya for coffee. She was interesting. We had a nice conversation over moccachipfrappeppermintoilatinos (or whatever fucking concoction Starbucks are serving these days) and took a drive out to Avoca, a nearby beach area. Lovely scenery, more chat but we both agreed that given the brevity of my visit it would be unwise to start anything. We may meet again at some stage, however,as she is only a flight away from home. Who knows, Diarmaid, she might even have a cute friend curious as to how nice these Irish boys really are.
I'm joking. Still, it's funny the people you meet.
THE NEW YEAR:
Sydney is famous for fireworks displays on New Year's night so we strolled downtown to try to get a good viewing position for midnight. Stopped for a few drinks in (sigh) an Irish bar and continued along toward the harbour. At twelve, the whole place exploded in the most impressive lightshow I've ever seen. It look fantastic, the bay illuminated with a thousand lights shot off the harbour bridge. Fantastic.
Then we lost PJ.
There were approx two million peope in the bay area so finding him was a little difficult but miraculously, we did. Soon after 12, we all just wanted to go home, as the streets had descended into mayhem, with fights breaking out all over the plave despite a heavy police presence. Groups of 20-30 lads prowled around looking for violence and the atomosphere turned sour. I've never seen anything like it. It was hard to believe that a city could be so magnificent and yet so inglorius in almost the same moment. We'd had enough and walked back to the hotel and went to sleep.
THE NEXT MORNING
I felt fine, walked to an internet cafe and composed this masterpiece. Shortly I may have some lunch. Generally, I am looking forward to leaving, and I never intend to live here.
As they used to say in MASH, that is all.
posted by One of Us Three at 3:37 AM
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