A happy-go-lucky English rambler dude goes to New Zealand for a year. Here he interfaces with some of those he left behind and details his nefarious activities. Or summat.
Recently clicked on MP3s - 7th June 2005 The Lucksmiths - Warmer Corners
Jens Lekman - When i said i wanted to be your dog
The Trashcan Sinatras - Weightlifting
Teenage Fanclub - Man Made
Laura Veirs - Carbon Glacier
The Decemberists - Picaresque
The Eels - Blinking Lights
Saturday, January 19, 2002 Well you can all stop worrying now, I'm back posting again and not in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the YMCA climbing wall. In fact i'm sat at home tapping away on Michaels' laptop, nodding along to the "supa-phat" sounds of 'The Document' by Andy Smith.
I was truly suprised by my experience on the YMCA climbing wall, not by how good i was, as i wasn't, but by just how much fun the whole thing was. I'd never really seen the the attraction of climbing before, but getting to the top of even the smaller climbs was v. satisfying indeed and brought back childhood memories of climbing trees down at 'The pits', though without having drunk a bottle of Merrydown cider first :os
We started off on the easiest possible climbs, to get warmed up and to learn to trust our lives to the rope, harness and the person belaying us. Once we were happy with our figure of 8 knots etc, and merrily falling off all over the place attempting ever more tricky ascents, we decided to go for the 'biggy'. It was quite an easy route compared to some we had been doing, but it lead 50ft up to the ceiling of the YMCA, erk. I belayed Keith & Michael as they scampered up to the top with relative ease, but this gave me a bit too much time to get nervous about the whole thing. As it turned out the route was a doddle, the first 44ft of it at least, but the devious mofo's who set the route out, had left a rather tricky bit near the top. Not any harder than some of the stuff i'd been doing lower down, but at that height some kind of powerful, primeval survival instinct took over and prevented me making a leap for the next tiny handhold, and instead forced me cringe down at Michael, on belay duty, then gingerly lean back into my harness and wait to be lowered back down to something easier to hold onto.
Despite not quite getting to the top of the big'un, I retired to the Dux de Lux afterwards with Keith and Michael, scoffed some well earned nachos and booze, and discussed just how amazingly proud of ourselves we all felt! Sadly the feeling has dissipated slightly during the week, but at the time I honestly felt like, "How can anything else in life ever really be a problem? I've just climbed 40ft up a bloody great wall!". Unsurprisingly, we're going again next week :o)
Having said all that, other stuff in life has been a problem this week. Specifically, the worst part of travelling - having to say endless goodbyes to all the people you meet along the way.
Not sure if they count as people i've met along the way, but Mum & Dad left Christchurch to continue their world tour on Thursday. I don't think they were quite as emotional as they were when I wandered off through the terminal at Heathrow, but it was pretty hard saying goodbye to them all over again. Though I think they've convinced themselves that NZ is a suitable country for their ickle lad to be hanging around in, which made things a bit easier.
The next night brought another farewell, this time it was the clown prince of West brom supporters and all round good-egg, Mark, heading off to Perth the next day. Despite the large number of goodbyes i've had to go through on my travels, i've still not yet mastered the art of coming up with a snappy, yet meaningful goodbye speech. I did attempt one for Mark, but was hampered by the fact i'd been necking Monteith's Original all night, and so blathered something about him being a "Bootiful 'uman being" or summat, and then staggered off into the night. Naturally, this statement will be fully retracted if the Baggies fluke a victory against the all conquering Leicester City in the FA cup 4th round.
They keep on coming too, as this Sunday my little (but fat arsed :op ) sister ships out of Christchurch for the final time. I'd imagine this will be about as harrowing as they come, as she's leaving a bunch of mates she's built up over 6 months, as well as Sarah who she met in Heathrow when they were flying out to NZ a year ago!
For me too - fat arsed as she may be, Alison's been my personal guide to NZ (Bars), a shoulder to whinge on whenever i felt like it, top frisbee partner and basically a high quality sister.
Watched Bad Boy Bubby on video tonight - what a great film! It answers an important question that i'm sure many people have wondered about for years, "What would a guy turn out like if he'd spent the first 35 years of his life locked in a bedsit with his cat and mother?".
The answer - a cross between Nick Cave and Vic Reeves. I for one will be sleeping sounder tonight for that knowledge.
