Merry Bloody Christmas you Gallaaaaaaas!

I've been around the world and I...I...I, I can't find my baby
Lisa Stansfield 1989

I don't know if Lisa Stansfield ever did find her baby, though if she didn't, it should cause some concern to the social services. How someone with such apparent wealth and fame can be so open about her neglect is beyond me, it really is.
We've not been around the world, yet. We've sort of got half way, and we're delighted that you have shared our journey so far.

I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For
U2, 1987

As those of you who have been following the blog will know, 2007 has been for us, a year of discoveries and adventures. Whether it's flying through jungle canopies in Laos, spying bulls in sari shops in India, or out running cyclones in Queensland, we've certainly learnt that a lot more happens when you're on the road. Underlining that is the fact that since we settled in Sydney, bugger all of any note has happened. Well, that's not strictly true.

Tie me kangaroo down, sport
Rolf Harris 1957

Since our last blog, we've made our temporary home in Bronte. If Bronte were a person, it would probably be Joanna Lumley; outwardly sophisticated and attractive, yet conservative and dependably safe. It's a place where even the school kids meet for cappuccino's before going to class, and the beach parking lot is full of prams in the mornings and VW campers in the afternoon. It's ideal for us. Since we're only here six months, we wanted somewhere near the beach, and we quickly found our little granny flat - a collection of floorboards clinging purposefully onto the side of a large old townhouse.
In his excitement at finding a place with a sea view (on tiptoes) and lots of natural light, Ant overlooked the lack of a living room. But that's a small oversight when our main plan was to work and sit on the beach. Of course, we've since realised that was a silly plan. You can't sit on the beach every night and watch telly.
We were delighted to find that one of our next door neighbours was inclusive enough to share her exceedingly loud love making with the rest of the community. It's rare these days to find the kind of community spirit which sees neighbours sharing their more personal moments...four times a day....before breakfast.

Wake up and make love with me
Ian Dury 1978

Sadly that neighbour has now left. It's possible she was moved on by the authorities, or perhaps she got the big movie break she was crying out for. Despite that loss, we have been actively building up a good group of mates here in Sydney, consisting of not only Brits, but also some Aussies. Apparently we're the first British settlers in the Eastern suburbs to achieve making acquaintances with Aussies, ever. We've dabbled in the Sydney nightlife with our new chums, and positively devoured the bbq scene. We made it to the Opera House to listen to the Sydney Symphony Orchestra play the music of John Williams, which is basically the scores to films like Superman, Indiana Jones, Star Wars and Harry Potter. At one point the house lights went down and in the pitch black, the conductor whapped out his big red light sabre and conducted the band into the Imperial March from The Empire Stikes Back. Never has such a moment of musical brilliance been known to make the hairs on the side of Jen's head curl up into Princess Leah style Danish Pastries.

The Force is Strong in this One
Yoda (a long, long time ago)

Of course, going back to work is a bit of a fag (not a cigerette or indeed a gay). That is, after all why we buggered off in the first place. But it's all in the selfish pursuit of extending our indulgent trip. So while Jen's earning proper money in a proper job, Ant's aim was to get a job which gave him enough time to write his book. Yes, the book!! And by jingo it's written!! Mean Feet, the story of Wayne Carr, England's greatest footballing sensation and biggest tosser, is now eagerly waiting to be snapped up by a daring publisher. Extracts will be provided for the small sum of five quid (an author's got to earn!). But with the book written, Ant had no excuse but to start earning some money too...for the greater good of the trip. Fortunately, Ant landed a mind numbing but nonetheless casual and very busy job of market research, meaning he got to conduct opinion polls in the build up to the general election. If you ever want a crash course in a country's politics, conducting polls is a pretty effective way of doing it. Hour after hour after hour of asking Ozzies whether they felt X was less agreeable than Y left Ant a seething, ranting, dribbling Pitt Bull, straining at the leash wanting to savage the ankles of PM John Howard. So too were the Australian public, and while we breakfasted in Palm Beach (home of Home and Away - life saving club's proprietor a certain Mr A Stewart), it became apparent that Mr Howard's ankles had been savaged to bits and Ant's former flat mate, John Acland-Hood, had been voted in.

I'm the Leader of the Gang (I am)
Gary Glitter 1973

(Ant to Jen) Bloody hell! I'm talking about politics in the blog! Get a grip!*
(Jen to Ant) Leave John alone, he looks nothing like Kevin Rudd.

And that was just a couple of weeks ago. It's now Christmas and with temperatures rising it couldn't feel less Christmassy if it tried (although to be fair, it was probably knocking around the 21-22 degree mark in Bethlehem all those years ago). Our plan is to head south for a trip round southern NSW, Victoria and some of South Australia for Christmas and New Year. We're intent on spending Christmas day on Kangaroo Island, a veritable nature reserve off the south coast near Adelaide, where humans sit in cages to eat to avoid animals nicking their food! Alas, massive fires are tearing up Kangaroo Island as we speak, and we may be forced to change our plans. Then Melbourne for New Years and some kayaking hijinks on the way home.

Suffice to say, and for all those who have been crying out for more blog action (or was that our neighbour?), things are going to be cranking up again from now on. There will no doubt be more bloggage from our southern adventures, then from Feb 2nd we'll be off to New Zealand and back on track. We're both very excited about getting back in a camper and back on the road...Jen might actually do some driving this time (the way the white lines of the road reflect in her glasses make her look like the unlikely lovechild of Jack Kerouac and Sue Pollard as her face is pressed up against the windscreen). And now that it's summer here, we may well encounter a few more snakes and spiders this time around.

But before we go, we'd just like to wish you all a splendid Christmas and New Year. It will be very strange spending it on our own, without all of you lot around. By the time you've opened your pressies, we'll be on our thirteenth game of scrabble on deserted beach, wishing to buggery for some company!

Have a brilliant Christmas! Lots of love, Jen and Ant

*This is probably the result of Ant turning 30. Ant would like to thank all those who wished him a happy birthday. He was very touched, but would now like to forget it ever happened and carry on pretending he's 16.

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