Saturday, 7 July 2012
Gardening Australia
Ok, so it has been a few months. I hadn't forgotten about the blog but I have been a bit busy
I'm afraid that it is time for the horticulturalist to come out a bit. But look, stick with it: you might learn something. Probably not from me in all honesty, but there it is.
Some of you will know that I now have a job working in a Garden Centre, hence the delay between blog posts, and this has brought the differences between the Australian native plants and gardening in general and what I am used to seeing in the UK.
I have spent twenty years working in horticulture and over that time I have developed a reasonable knowledge of plants. However, Australia's flora is sufficiently different to Europe's that I actually don't know many of the plants here at all. In fact, one of the main reasons that Penny and Zach are enjoying Adelaide is that I can't walk along spouting out latin names and "interesting facts" about the plants we are passing. Zach has actually said as much, and indeed is trotting this out at regular intervals: although, to be fair "being told about plants until you are really sorry" is actually a method of punishment I have employed from time to time.
It is a weird feeling for me. I am used to walking through the world and knowing numerous things about most of the plants I see. As some of you will know, I have spent a long time growing trees and these form a huge part of the landscape we live in, so I have always felt to some extent that these are a kind compass with which I orientate myself (in fact it is a source of aggrevation to at least one good friend of mine that I navigate London by the trees I planted, and never fail to point them out and offer aforementioned "interesting facts") .
We have a lot of horticulture around Adelaide, most famously in the form of the wine industry that pretty much surrounds the area on the other side of the hills. Also, as Adelaide is the state capital, we have a fantastic botanic garden, which is really worth visiting and is free, which means you actually find yourself wandering in when you have a spare half an hour. What does seem to be struggling is the wholesale plant industry (which supplies the Retail garden centres). Frankly, the droughts and subsequent water restrictions have signalled the end for a lot of the local nurseries. It seems that quite a few have closed meaning a lack of competition in the local plant sector and plants coming from as far as Melbourne to satisfy local retail demand. It is a bit like a nursery on the South Coast buying plants from Newcastle.
Probably the most interesting and apparent difference to the UK is the front garden, and actually gardens in general. One of the big contrast to most of England is that the majority of houses are built by individuals or as part of very small developments. The notion of the Wimpey Estate or Victorian terrace with everyone living to pretty much the same plan in terms of house and outside space just doesn't seem to exist here, particularly in the suburbs. Whilst you will find houses of similar designs on every street they are not necessarily next to each other, and with a more relaxed attitude to town planning new houses are being built on existing plots all the time. The different houses and gardens tend to reflect the age the decade they were built rather than the current trends as the notion of doing a garden makeover isn't quite so prevalent over here, so the garden you start with tends to be the garden that you have until the house is pulled down and the plot built over.
There are roughly three broad types of front garden that you can see going down the street.
1. Native plants:
Usually pretty scrub-like by European standards, but actually make good use of native plants to give a relaxed informal and above all low maintenance and low water usage garden; which is a big deal here. Although the UK is used to hosepipe bans, Adelaide is so much drier that without watering in the summer months your new lush garden doesn't really stand a chance.
2. Slightly English:
A patch of lawn bordered by shrubs, roses and agapanthus; or more usually all three. You might also get a couple of small trees. These gardens look pretty familiar to anyone from the UK, and in fact it is something that you don't tend to see around many other parts of the world. The difference here is that the plants often include decorative varieties of natives such as Corea and native Hibiscus. Roses are particularly well suited to Adelaide and really thrive in the hot sun.
3. Modern Adelaidean:
The more modern houses tend to have slightly formal gardens with a simple design proposition. Expect to see uniform rows upright trees or conifers along boundaries and paths edged with low hedges of Japanese Box or Japanese Spindle. Frontages lined with standard roses or evergreen magnolias are common. In fact one thing common to all the gardens I have seen over here is simplicity. If you were to have a border of plants in the U.K., you would tend to have lot's of different plants all blended together to give long season flowering or whatever. Over here it tends to be plantings of single varieties. This gives a greater impact in the season of interest for the particular plants and also seems to allow the design to hang together better with the rest of the house. So rather than just being a beautiful garden, it is one that accentuates the house.
Frankly, I'm not going to post pictures as examples here, but you can all use Google Earth, so search for St Georges, Adelaide and see what you can find.
As with the U.K., edible gardening has become much more popular. Most nurseries will have vegetable seedlings and herbs available throughout the year and with the climate being quite Mediterranean fruit trees are pretty popular. A lot of people grow Citrus of various kinds, Peaches, Apricots, Nectarines, Avocado and Figs as well as the Apples and Pears. Again, this has meant a pretty steep learning curve for me as I really haven't had a lot to do with these trees over the years and Adelaidean gardeners really want to know about all the details of every variety. I am picking it up though.
One thing that has struck me here is that gardens probably tend to be smaller in proportion to the size of the houses. Again, this is a trait we are seeing in Britain. New builds tend to be larger than the modest bungalows built in the last century and the outdoor space seems to more compact and segmented into pool/dining/whatever rather than lawn with the barbie shoved in the corner. There are a couple of reasons for this. Firstly, with the inevitable rise in house prices, square footage of the house is the most important thing to realise the developers investment. Secondly, people tend to use gardens as an extension of the house rather as a discreet environment; so outdoor cooking and entertaining is much more the thing. Thirdly, with so many public open spaces with decent, unvandalised amenities people actually get out into the parks and on to the beaches when the weather is nice. We have a lot of free barbeques in the parks and it is very common to see groups of twenty or so people sitting around having a day out in the sunshine with their friends.
So, that is gardening Australia as I see it so far. You should all be safe for a few months now at least.
More to come soon.
Tuesday, 29 November 2011
Rules of the Road
So I mentioned cars in one of the first blogs I wrote, and since I have had a bit of chance to observe the driving in Adelaide I thought it would be a good time to talk about this some more. Cars, roads and the attitude of drivers towards each other and pedestrians are actually some of the key differences to the UK that I have found, although it is not as different in some areas as you might have been lead to believe.
Adelaide is arranged in a grid system and by and large is controlled by traffic lights. It is not impossible to find that you only have to make your own decision about whether to pull out of a junction or move forward about once a day. There aren't a huge amount of roundabouts either; these tend to be confined to suburban roads. I don't think I've seen anything on the scale of, say, The Shepherd and Flock near Farnham.
In general the roads are pretty good around the city, although they do deteriorate as you come out of the town and towards the hills, but from what I have seen so far they really aren't that bad; much better than some of the equivalent roads in the UK I can think of in fact. What is almost universally good is the width of the roads. Because Adelaide is a planned city, the vast majority of roads are predominantly straight and more than wide enough for all kinds of traffic. It sort of looks like a small American city in that regard (although I am only going from what I have seen of the US on television) or Milton Keynes.It is vastly more spacious in terms of driving than most of London, Guildford, Portsmouth, Birmingham or anywhere I can think of apart from MK. But hang on, you might say. London has some very wide roads. Of course it does, but in general there are three lanes of traffic. The norm for Adelaide is two, with three only on the main arterial routes and ring roads, if at all. The only bit of "motorway" I have been on is definitely no wider or longer the the M275 and only goes in one direction. From what I understand it switches the direction of travel between the rush hours to carry the larger volumes of commuters. I hate to get that one wrong at change over time!
One of the more constant bits of criticism you hear from ex pats is that the driving in South Australia is a bit rough and ready and that the traffic is terrible. Stories of people almost being run off the road by Utes kitted out with bull bars and of SA drivers racing between every set of lights, revving their engines and honking at anyone who gets in their way or doesn't react to the lights going green like Mark Webber on a Sunday afternoon. Now personally, I don't subscribe to this. I have driven for around 1000km in and around Adelaide at all times of day in a variety of different hire cars and I have never witnessed any really shocking driving at all. To be fair, I am pretty difficult to intimidate behind the wheel of a car so perhaps I am not the best judge, but it is nothing compared to Dalston High Street at 2pm on a Friday afternoon, or Tower Bridge Road at 8am on a Monday morning or the M25 at virtually any time of day or night. As far as traffic goes, you can pretty much take the previous examples and halve the congestion and you are about right for the worst conditions in Adelaide on a busy day. I think that reason for this lack of serious congestion is three fold:
1. All the streets are pretty much long straights.
2. Everything is controlled by traffic lights, and pedestrian crossings etc. definitely take a back seat.
3. A lot of the major arteries have "no right turn" restrictions at rush hours. This means that you don't lose a lane with traffic turning right. It's a pain of you happen to need to do that, but since everything is on a grid, you can always find another way around quite easily.
The key difference in the driving experience for me is the lack of awareness of other road users intentions, that all car drivers seem to display. Imagine you are going through London on a long straight road and you need to change line. Both lines of traffic are moving at roughly the same speed and you just need the guy behind and to your right to decelerate a little to let you in. Now in the UK one of three things will happen:
1. The other car will completely ignore you and effectively block you. You have to either miss your turning, slam on your brakes, or make a fairly aggressive move.
2. The other car will see you want to move, and speed up so as not to get caught behind you, but begrudgingly make room.
3. The other car will slow up a bit a with a cheery flash lights let you through.
I admit that option 3 is unlikely in most cases, but it does happen. In Adelaide only option 1 ever applies. No one ever lets you out of a junction, gives you the option of changing lanes or anything else similar under any circumstances. This is not done aggressively at all; it is obviously just not part of the road culture here, but I found myself missing a couple of turnings before I understood this. Interestingly enough the pedestrians also walk around like this. People do not move out of the way or give space to anyone else, the path they are taking is the path they follow, without exception. It is like being in a supermarket in the UK on pension day, it really is.
I've also mentioned this before, but the Australians love a V8. I can't put a definite figure on this, but I would estimate that 10% of vehicles have V6 or V8 engines. The sound track of Monday morning commuter traffic is something to behold, it really is. I really wanted an electric car in the UK, but that sense of environmental conscientiousness is being eroded away steadily to the point that what I really want is a V8 Holden! Also, there seems to be a preference for automatic transmissions here. I am normally not a fan of autos and I have driven a lot of them; some of the finest (BMW 5-series and Ferrari F430) and some of the worst (Austin Montego). I have only ever owned a car with one by choice once, and I swore never to do it again. But, as with the electric car, I am finding my mind being changed. In fact I'll go on record and state that not only have I not driven a manual over here, I have actually paid extra when given the choice to hire an auto. Neither are sentiments that anyone who knows me would have expected me to express. I think that it is the long straight roads and lack of actual corners that make this work. The first time we drove out of the city and encountered a bend in the road it was actually a little disconcerting. I could see myself buying and getting on with an auto here.
There is a pretty lively scene in classic cars, but the lean is towards American and Australian muscle cars rather than crappy British sports cars. Sunday is the day that many people get out in their Chevy Impalas, Holden Commodores or Dodge Chargers and go for a drive. I love seeing this; there is a refreshing lack of tweed and beards and a lot of chrome, V8's and sunshine.
The other thing that I really love is the trucks. Almost universally they are based on American style Kenworth tractor units. If you don't know what this is then think Smokey and the Bandit or Convoy. Zach and I were literally beside ourselves with excitement when we saw our first big lorries, although it is worth mentioning that the standard single trailer trucks are, like their American counterparts, actually smaller than the standard European articulated lorries. The double trailered "road trains" are impressive though, and they don't hang about. There must be different noise restrictions particularly with commercial vehicles as they are loud to my ears. They also run 24/7. As the motel we stayed in when we first arrived was literally next to the main access road into Adelaide we lost countless hours of sleep because of this. It was even louder than when I lived on the A3 a mile south of the Hindhead lights, unlikely as this may sound. In fact, as I type this it is 03.41am, blowing a gale, and I can still hear the occasional truck on Portrush Road, which is around 500m away.
So we can say that Adelaide is a well designed city which caters admirably for the motor cars, lorries, buses and trams that ferry people and goods around. The roads are quite nice and it is all managed with some sensible traffic management policies that keep everyone moving freely. There is a downside though: It is a bugger being a pedestrian.
Any country that has drive through off licences has to be dedicated to the motor car. You may think that pedestrians in the UK are treated with contempt by drivers but they are given a lot more priority by the British Government than I original thought.. For example, there are no "on demand" pedestrian crossings in Adelaide with the exception of near some schools and even then there aren't any traffic lights to enforce this. On many roads it is almost impossible to think of crossing anywhere else other than a designated pedestrian crossing and these are few and far between, and jaywalking is not just inadvisable, but also illegal. This means that if you are coming out of a shop on one side of the road and want to go into a shop on the opposite side you will almost definitely have to walk 100 metres to the next crossing and come back down. Also, all pedestrian crossings are phased in with the normal traffic lights, so when traffic joining from the side is released so are the pedestrians. There is no separate phase for people to cross, although they do have right of way in this case, so the drivers pull forward as far towards the pedestrians as they can and stare at them in disbelief as they cross. Also, if you arrive at a set of lights during a phase where you would normally cross and no-one has pressed the button the pedestrian lights always stay red until the next cycle. Basically, you spend a lot of time standing at lights. Remember, most junctions are crossroads; if you are walking south to the bus stop and are on the wrong (eastern in this case) side of the road you will always have to cross two roads to get on the right track. I think my record for crossing a main junction is something like 15 minutes, and no I am not exaggerating at all, literally 15 mins. You really do have to factor in that time when you are going anywhere, like catching a bus for example. I have missed loads just because of the amount of time I have spent waiting to cross the road!
The public transport here is pretty good. An all day ticket costs $8.80 and takes you everywhere in and around the city (usually to the nearest towns as well) and includes the trams which run through the heart of the city and out to the beach. On Saturdays and school holidays Zach travels free if he is with an adult with an all day ticket, which does save you money. All public transport is clean and mostly modern and well maintained (did have one bus with a clutch that was definitely on the way out. It would have been quicker and significantly less smelly to walk that journey) and as such it seems that people seem to respect this. There is no graffiti and to be honest I have only had to sit next to the Aussie equivalent of the drunk Glaswegian twice. Even the teenagers are unfailingly polite.
Finally, what I love most of all about driving and cars in Adelaide also acts as a prime example of how much context matters in different cultures, and how, with the right approach, the Australians can take something that doesn't work in Britain and make it something truly brilliant:
Personalised number plates
Now there is nothing wrong with personalised number plates in the UK. If you happen to live in Chesire or near Guildford I can see the point of advertising that you have so much excess wealth that you feel the need to announce to other road users that either you are arrogant enough to think anyone else cares what your initials are or you are so profoundly dyslexic that you think a random assortment of letters and numbers will mean anything significant to other road users. The only exception to this is when your number plate actually spells something meaningful without having to use black screw caps to turn an "11" into an "H". I can think of three that I have seen in the UK that I genuinely admired. One belonged to Richard Attenborough, one to someone I worked for and another to a bloke that was known for lightly stabbing people in pubs. Interestingly enough the first was on a Rolls Royce and the others were on Range Rovers.
This is how the Australians get it right: they allow a variety of different customisation options which include different coloured plates and a fully customisable seven letter registration mark.
For the first few weeks I was staggered by the amount of them that I saw, and they were using actual letters and spelling out actual words (or though some of the more creative ones were also amusing). So I googled and discovered that not only is this all legal and above board, it is called "Ezyplate" and it is government run. There is a website where you can type in your chosen phrase and find out immediately if it is available and then register it online; they even tell you the last order date before Christmas. Not only that, it only costs a couple of hundred dollars a year! What this means is that virtually everyone can afford to do it and they can actually chose a meaningful word or phrase that is completely legible to everyone else. It takes the exclusivity and therefore the pretension out of the whole thing.
See for yourself. Follow the link below, select custom plate and have some fun. But please, please, please post your favourites in the comments section to this blog. I might even register the best one when I get a car.
http://www.transport.sa.gov.au/ezyplates/pickaplate/ezyplates_app.htm
.....Yes Gary, the plates "Shocker" and "Player" are both available.
Here are a few that I've seen on the road.
Obie 1 - (Obviously a Star Wars fan)
Tree Doc - on a tree surgeons Ute
Penny 7
I'll sign off with my personal favourite:
PS. All taxis have the word "TAXI" followed by their operator number instead of a normal registration mark. It takes some of the guess work out of finding a cab after a night out.
Adelaide is arranged in a grid system and by and large is controlled by traffic lights. It is not impossible to find that you only have to make your own decision about whether to pull out of a junction or move forward about once a day. There aren't a huge amount of roundabouts either; these tend to be confined to suburban roads. I don't think I've seen anything on the scale of, say, The Shepherd and Flock near Farnham.
In general the roads are pretty good around the city, although they do deteriorate as you come out of the town and towards the hills, but from what I have seen so far they really aren't that bad; much better than some of the equivalent roads in the UK I can think of in fact. What is almost universally good is the width of the roads. Because Adelaide is a planned city, the vast majority of roads are predominantly straight and more than wide enough for all kinds of traffic. It sort of looks like a small American city in that regard (although I am only going from what I have seen of the US on television) or Milton Keynes.It is vastly more spacious in terms of driving than most of London, Guildford, Portsmouth, Birmingham or anywhere I can think of apart from MK. But hang on, you might say. London has some very wide roads. Of course it does, but in general there are three lanes of traffic. The norm for Adelaide is two, with three only on the main arterial routes and ring roads, if at all. The only bit of "motorway" I have been on is definitely no wider or longer the the M275 and only goes in one direction. From what I understand it switches the direction of travel between the rush hours to carry the larger volumes of commuters. I hate to get that one wrong at change over time!
One of the more constant bits of criticism you hear from ex pats is that the driving in South Australia is a bit rough and ready and that the traffic is terrible. Stories of people almost being run off the road by Utes kitted out with bull bars and of SA drivers racing between every set of lights, revving their engines and honking at anyone who gets in their way or doesn't react to the lights going green like Mark Webber on a Sunday afternoon. Now personally, I don't subscribe to this. I have driven for around 1000km in and around Adelaide at all times of day in a variety of different hire cars and I have never witnessed any really shocking driving at all. To be fair, I am pretty difficult to intimidate behind the wheel of a car so perhaps I am not the best judge, but it is nothing compared to Dalston High Street at 2pm on a Friday afternoon, or Tower Bridge Road at 8am on a Monday morning or the M25 at virtually any time of day or night. As far as traffic goes, you can pretty much take the previous examples and halve the congestion and you are about right for the worst conditions in Adelaide on a busy day. I think that reason for this lack of serious congestion is three fold:
1. All the streets are pretty much long straights.
2. Everything is controlled by traffic lights, and pedestrian crossings etc. definitely take a back seat.
3. A lot of the major arteries have "no right turn" restrictions at rush hours. This means that you don't lose a lane with traffic turning right. It's a pain of you happen to need to do that, but since everything is on a grid, you can always find another way around quite easily.
The key difference in the driving experience for me is the lack of awareness of other road users intentions, that all car drivers seem to display. Imagine you are going through London on a long straight road and you need to change line. Both lines of traffic are moving at roughly the same speed and you just need the guy behind and to your right to decelerate a little to let you in. Now in the UK one of three things will happen:
1. The other car will completely ignore you and effectively block you. You have to either miss your turning, slam on your brakes, or make a fairly aggressive move.
2. The other car will see you want to move, and speed up so as not to get caught behind you, but begrudgingly make room.
3. The other car will slow up a bit a with a cheery flash lights let you through.
I admit that option 3 is unlikely in most cases, but it does happen. In Adelaide only option 1 ever applies. No one ever lets you out of a junction, gives you the option of changing lanes or anything else similar under any circumstances. This is not done aggressively at all; it is obviously just not part of the road culture here, but I found myself missing a couple of turnings before I understood this. Interestingly enough the pedestrians also walk around like this. People do not move out of the way or give space to anyone else, the path they are taking is the path they follow, without exception. It is like being in a supermarket in the UK on pension day, it really is.
I've also mentioned this before, but the Australians love a V8. I can't put a definite figure on this, but I would estimate that 10% of vehicles have V6 or V8 engines. The sound track of Monday morning commuter traffic is something to behold, it really is. I really wanted an electric car in the UK, but that sense of environmental conscientiousness is being eroded away steadily to the point that what I really want is a V8 Holden! Also, there seems to be a preference for automatic transmissions here. I am normally not a fan of autos and I have driven a lot of them; some of the finest (BMW 5-series and Ferrari F430) and some of the worst (Austin Montego). I have only ever owned a car with one by choice once, and I swore never to do it again. But, as with the electric car, I am finding my mind being changed. In fact I'll go on record and state that not only have I not driven a manual over here, I have actually paid extra when given the choice to hire an auto. Neither are sentiments that anyone who knows me would have expected me to express. I think that it is the long straight roads and lack of actual corners that make this work. The first time we drove out of the city and encountered a bend in the road it was actually a little disconcerting. I could see myself buying and getting on with an auto here.
There is a pretty lively scene in classic cars, but the lean is towards American and Australian muscle cars rather than crappy British sports cars. Sunday is the day that many people get out in their Chevy Impalas, Holden Commodores or Dodge Chargers and go for a drive. I love seeing this; there is a refreshing lack of tweed and beards and a lot of chrome, V8's and sunshine.
The other thing that I really love is the trucks. Almost universally they are based on American style Kenworth tractor units. If you don't know what this is then think Smokey and the Bandit or Convoy. Zach and I were literally beside ourselves with excitement when we saw our first big lorries, although it is worth mentioning that the standard single trailer trucks are, like their American counterparts, actually smaller than the standard European articulated lorries. The double trailered "road trains" are impressive though, and they don't hang about. There must be different noise restrictions particularly with commercial vehicles as they are loud to my ears. They also run 24/7. As the motel we stayed in when we first arrived was literally next to the main access road into Adelaide we lost countless hours of sleep because of this. It was even louder than when I lived on the A3 a mile south of the Hindhead lights, unlikely as this may sound. In fact, as I type this it is 03.41am, blowing a gale, and I can still hear the occasional truck on Portrush Road, which is around 500m away.
So we can say that Adelaide is a well designed city which caters admirably for the motor cars, lorries, buses and trams that ferry people and goods around. The roads are quite nice and it is all managed with some sensible traffic management policies that keep everyone moving freely. There is a downside though: It is a bugger being a pedestrian.
Any country that has drive through off licences has to be dedicated to the motor car. You may think that pedestrians in the UK are treated with contempt by drivers but they are given a lot more priority by the British Government than I original thought.. For example, there are no "on demand" pedestrian crossings in Adelaide with the exception of near some schools and even then there aren't any traffic lights to enforce this. On many roads it is almost impossible to think of crossing anywhere else other than a designated pedestrian crossing and these are few and far between, and jaywalking is not just inadvisable, but also illegal. This means that if you are coming out of a shop on one side of the road and want to go into a shop on the opposite side you will almost definitely have to walk 100 metres to the next crossing and come back down. Also, all pedestrian crossings are phased in with the normal traffic lights, so when traffic joining from the side is released so are the pedestrians. There is no separate phase for people to cross, although they do have right of way in this case, so the drivers pull forward as far towards the pedestrians as they can and stare at them in disbelief as they cross. Also, if you arrive at a set of lights during a phase where you would normally cross and no-one has pressed the button the pedestrian lights always stay red until the next cycle. Basically, you spend a lot of time standing at lights. Remember, most junctions are crossroads; if you are walking south to the bus stop and are on the wrong (eastern in this case) side of the road you will always have to cross two roads to get on the right track. I think my record for crossing a main junction is something like 15 minutes, and no I am not exaggerating at all, literally 15 mins. You really do have to factor in that time when you are going anywhere, like catching a bus for example. I have missed loads just because of the amount of time I have spent waiting to cross the road!
The public transport here is pretty good. An all day ticket costs $8.80 and takes you everywhere in and around the city (usually to the nearest towns as well) and includes the trams which run through the heart of the city and out to the beach. On Saturdays and school holidays Zach travels free if he is with an adult with an all day ticket, which does save you money. All public transport is clean and mostly modern and well maintained (did have one bus with a clutch that was definitely on the way out. It would have been quicker and significantly less smelly to walk that journey) and as such it seems that people seem to respect this. There is no graffiti and to be honest I have only had to sit next to the Aussie equivalent of the drunk Glaswegian twice. Even the teenagers are unfailingly polite.
Finally, what I love most of all about driving and cars in Adelaide also acts as a prime example of how much context matters in different cultures, and how, with the right approach, the Australians can take something that doesn't work in Britain and make it something truly brilliant:
Personalised number plates
Now there is nothing wrong with personalised number plates in the UK. If you happen to live in Chesire or near Guildford I can see the point of advertising that you have so much excess wealth that you feel the need to announce to other road users that either you are arrogant enough to think anyone else cares what your initials are or you are so profoundly dyslexic that you think a random assortment of letters and numbers will mean anything significant to other road users. The only exception to this is when your number plate actually spells something meaningful without having to use black screw caps to turn an "11" into an "H". I can think of three that I have seen in the UK that I genuinely admired. One belonged to Richard Attenborough, one to someone I worked for and another to a bloke that was known for lightly stabbing people in pubs. Interestingly enough the first was on a Rolls Royce and the others were on Range Rovers.
This is how the Australians get it right: they allow a variety of different customisation options which include different coloured plates and a fully customisable seven letter registration mark.
For the first few weeks I was staggered by the amount of them that I saw, and they were using actual letters and spelling out actual words (or though some of the more creative ones were also amusing). So I googled and discovered that not only is this all legal and above board, it is called "Ezyplate" and it is government run. There is a website where you can type in your chosen phrase and find out immediately if it is available and then register it online; they even tell you the last order date before Christmas. Not only that, it only costs a couple of hundred dollars a year! What this means is that virtually everyone can afford to do it and they can actually chose a meaningful word or phrase that is completely legible to everyone else. It takes the exclusivity and therefore the pretension out of the whole thing.
See for yourself. Follow the link below, select custom plate and have some fun. But please, please, please post your favourites in the comments section to this blog. I might even register the best one when I get a car.
http://www.transport.sa.gov.au/ezyplates/pickaplate/ezyplates_app.htm
.....Yes Gary, the plates "Shocker" and "Player" are both available.
Here are a few that I've seen on the road.
Obie 1 - (Obviously a Star Wars fan)
Tree Doc - on a tree surgeons Ute
Penny 7
I'll sign off with my personal favourite:
PS. All taxis have the word "TAXI" followed by their operator number instead of a normal registration mark. It takes some of the guess work out of finding a cab after a night out.
Tuesday, 15 November 2011
Will we know it's Christmas?
It is a bit like waking up in the morning after a heavy night out and realising you are still a little bit drunk. That's what I thought when I saw the first Christmas advert around the start of November when it was a shade over 30 degrees centigrade outside. Everything seems normal, but you feel a slightly jarring sense that there is some way in which you are viewing all this from somewhere else, and you shouldn't be. That the song they chose to accompany the decidedly summery weathered advert was Shakin' Stevens' "Merry Christmas Everyone" made it even more surreal. Don't get me wrong: I am a massive Shaky fan, but I find it hard to follow the logic of using a song whose first verse starts with the lyric "snow is falling all around me" in a country where the odds on a white Christmas are even smaller than Old Blighty.
Australia is a sufficiently different culture from the UK that you can easily convince yourself that you are on the other side of the world and everything is a new a exhilarating experience to immerse yourself in, without the tedium of having to learn another language. So, when something as familiar as a previous Xmas No1 comes on the telly encouraging you to start the festivities in November, there is a sense that there is some part of this that I am not quite getting. It is ever so slightly unpleasant, and whilst I wouldn't say it makes me homesick, it does remind me that even though I have adjusted myself to life in Oz pretty well, it isn't quite home yet. It is at moments like this that you realise that you are a bit of an outsider.
Another weird one was Remembrance Day. I had been so preoccupied with 11/11/11 being named Nigel Tufnel Day (google "these go up to eleven", watch the youtube clip that you are bound to find from This is Spinal Tap) that I had forgotten all about the true meaning of the day. It wasn't until I saw someone wearing a poppy that it struck me what day it was. Again it slipped my mind until I was in one of the excellent Asian supermarkets in the Adelaide Central Market (more on this in a minute). At the 11th hour a solemn voice on the tannoy reminded us all of the appropriate minute's silence with which to reflect on the sacrifice of all those who go to war, and then the traditional "Age shall not weary them" stuff. So there I was, standing in silence along with all the other people of European heritage, hands clasped in front of me, shopping at my feet, staring silently ahead and feeling slightly guilty about scanning the shelves for a big bag of turmeric during the allotted time of reflection and consideration for those who have paid the ultimate sacrifice. The surreal element was added by a number of my fellow shoppers who either didn't understand the announcement, or just weren't that bothered at the solemnity of the occasion as they continued making purchases and talking to each other in Cantonese (I assume). Nothing wrong with this at all, but again I was struck with a sense of being on the outside looking in slightly. I imagine that it is this slow burning realisation of all the things that are not the same is what most ex pats find it most difficult to get on with, and that successful integration into a new country depends on how you cope with this. At the moment I find it quite interesting.
The Adelaide Central Market deserves some mention (http://adelaidecentralmarket.com.au/). It is one of the most iconic and best loved parts of the city, and is definitely a high point for me. It is probably best described as a cross between the old Bull Ring in Birmingham (although mostly focused on food rather than clothing etc.) and Borough Market near Southwark Cathedral. It is located a bit of a walk from the main retail area (Rundle Mall) towards the outside of the CBD. This allows it a slightly bohemian feel, although there is still a Coles supermarket for you to buy all the normal things. There are loads of grocers, fishmonger and butchers providing a good range of the normal market fare, as well as some more niche stalls who specialise in one product. There is a mushroom seller, an olive place and some really nice cheese purveyors, as well as a couple who specialise in kangaroo meat. You get the general idea. Before we had a house we didn't really bother shopping there as we had nowhere to cook using fresh ingredients. So at the first opportunity I shook off the tyranny and perceived high prices of the supermarkets and headed into town on the bus to go to the market.
We have been led to believe that the market was the place to snag bargains and get amazing deals. Not being one to go into a new situation unprepared and being on a very tight budget, I went to the supermarket first to buy a few essentials not available from the other traders and to check out the prices of what I was looking to get from the market. So with a brain full of the price of peppers and potatoes, sausages and salmon I headed in.
After a confusing half an hour I hadn't bought anything and was feeling a bit down hearted. The prices were, if anything, higher and there was so much choice that it was just getting confusing. However, time was running out. It was 2pm and stalls were beginning to close (most shops shut at around 5pm in Adelaide). I started indescriminately grabbing things, only to realise that as I moved from stall to stall that I could have got whatever I had just bought cheaper on the other side of the market. As far as the "market being cheaper" idea went, I began to suspect to suspect the following:
It was bollocks!
That was until I heard a cry from a fishmonger: "All this salmon $4. A kilo of salmon for $4. Who wants the last one?
I was in there like a shot. Now I realised why there were crowds of people hovering beside the various stalls. They were waiting for the end of day deals. It was a game of brinksmanship that tested your resolve and courage. You stood shoulder to shoulder with people looking derisively at the nervous Nelly who jumped for the first bargain the trader offered. The game was to wait until it looked as though all the good stuff had gone, and once the last X of Y at $notverymuch was produced you had to pounce like a salt water crocodile seeing its unsuspecting victim walking along the shoreline. It was a sweaty, nervous atmosphere; peopled by others with the same competitive nature and drive to not spend anymore than they absolutely had to, but I tasted victory that day and the freezer still groans under the weight of all that salmon. In my mind I have now edited the mantra of Adelaide shoppers. The market is the best place to get deals and snag bargains at 2pm on a Saturday afternoon; if you can hold your nerve.
Just a final word of caution though: If something looks to good to be true, it probably is.
After all the feelings that it was a bit of a waste of time spending $8.80 on a bus ticket and about three hours going there and back to the market, imagine how delighted I was when I stumbled upon some chicken mince for $1.50/kilo at the butcher where I buy my roasting chooks. Ok, on closer inspection it was neck mince, but again we are on a tight budget and we're not too proud to eat what others turn their nose up at. So I dived in there after I saw a pensioner buying some. "Perfect for burgers and kebabs" I thought and enough to keep us going for a month.
At this point I probably ought to mention that in Australia it is clearly the custom to feed pets with fresh meat, albeit of a lesser quality than the truly excellent meat intended for human consumption, and at an accordingly lower price. Penny kept reminding me every time I went shopping in the supermarket that they put the meat for pets next to the normal stuff, and they don't label this particularly brazenly. You can see what's coming next, can't you?
I got the shopping home and bunged everything in the fridge, stomped out to the garden to pick some fresh herbs, rolled up my sleeves and got on with making use of the chicken. I don't know how anyone else does it, but when I make burgers I get all my bread crumbs, herbs, garlic, onions and chili minced up in a bowl and and add the meat before making it into patties. So after doing all the prep. work, imagine my surprise and dismay when I put my hands in to the bag of mince and realised that it had a gritty texture. Penny's words started to appear in my mind like the title sequence of Tales of the Unexpected. What I was feeling was bone fragments. The necks were obviously minced up without removing the vertebrae first.
Now, I am not one to waste my effort and money by giving up easily. So I decided to make a burger or two first and shove one under the grill to see if the bone fragments were as noticeable once cooked. All I can say is that it took about ten minutes to stop myself from choking and thoroughly remove all traces of bone from my esophagus after the first mouthful. Needless to say that the burgers were relegated to the wheelie bin.
This experience does beg a couple of questions going forward:
Did I subconciously insert the word "meat" into the product name when I hastily purchased 20 kangaroo meatballs for $5 from the market the other day, and am I man enough to eat them and find out.
Australia is a sufficiently different culture from the UK that you can easily convince yourself that you are on the other side of the world and everything is a new a exhilarating experience to immerse yourself in, without the tedium of having to learn another language. So, when something as familiar as a previous Xmas No1 comes on the telly encouraging you to start the festivities in November, there is a sense that there is some part of this that I am not quite getting. It is ever so slightly unpleasant, and whilst I wouldn't say it makes me homesick, it does remind me that even though I have adjusted myself to life in Oz pretty well, it isn't quite home yet. It is at moments like this that you realise that you are a bit of an outsider.
Another weird one was Remembrance Day. I had been so preoccupied with 11/11/11 being named Nigel Tufnel Day (google "these go up to eleven", watch the youtube clip that you are bound to find from This is Spinal Tap) that I had forgotten all about the true meaning of the day. It wasn't until I saw someone wearing a poppy that it struck me what day it was. Again it slipped my mind until I was in one of the excellent Asian supermarkets in the Adelaide Central Market (more on this in a minute). At the 11th hour a solemn voice on the tannoy reminded us all of the appropriate minute's silence with which to reflect on the sacrifice of all those who go to war, and then the traditional "Age shall not weary them" stuff. So there I was, standing in silence along with all the other people of European heritage, hands clasped in front of me, shopping at my feet, staring silently ahead and feeling slightly guilty about scanning the shelves for a big bag of turmeric during the allotted time of reflection and consideration for those who have paid the ultimate sacrifice. The surreal element was added by a number of my fellow shoppers who either didn't understand the announcement, or just weren't that bothered at the solemnity of the occasion as they continued making purchases and talking to each other in Cantonese (I assume). Nothing wrong with this at all, but again I was struck with a sense of being on the outside looking in slightly. I imagine that it is this slow burning realisation of all the things that are not the same is what most ex pats find it most difficult to get on with, and that successful integration into a new country depends on how you cope with this. At the moment I find it quite interesting.
The Adelaide Central Market deserves some mention (http://adelaidecentralmarket.com.au/). It is one of the most iconic and best loved parts of the city, and is definitely a high point for me. It is probably best described as a cross between the old Bull Ring in Birmingham (although mostly focused on food rather than clothing etc.) and Borough Market near Southwark Cathedral. It is located a bit of a walk from the main retail area (Rundle Mall) towards the outside of the CBD. This allows it a slightly bohemian feel, although there is still a Coles supermarket for you to buy all the normal things. There are loads of grocers, fishmonger and butchers providing a good range of the normal market fare, as well as some more niche stalls who specialise in one product. There is a mushroom seller, an olive place and some really nice cheese purveyors, as well as a couple who specialise in kangaroo meat. You get the general idea. Before we had a house we didn't really bother shopping there as we had nowhere to cook using fresh ingredients. So at the first opportunity I shook off the tyranny and perceived high prices of the supermarkets and headed into town on the bus to go to the market.
We have been led to believe that the market was the place to snag bargains and get amazing deals. Not being one to go into a new situation unprepared and being on a very tight budget, I went to the supermarket first to buy a few essentials not available from the other traders and to check out the prices of what I was looking to get from the market. So with a brain full of the price of peppers and potatoes, sausages and salmon I headed in.
After a confusing half an hour I hadn't bought anything and was feeling a bit down hearted. The prices were, if anything, higher and there was so much choice that it was just getting confusing. However, time was running out. It was 2pm and stalls were beginning to close (most shops shut at around 5pm in Adelaide). I started indescriminately grabbing things, only to realise that as I moved from stall to stall that I could have got whatever I had just bought cheaper on the other side of the market. As far as the "market being cheaper" idea went, I began to suspect to suspect the following:
It was bollocks!
That was until I heard a cry from a fishmonger: "All this salmon $4. A kilo of salmon for $4. Who wants the last one?
I was in there like a shot. Now I realised why there were crowds of people hovering beside the various stalls. They were waiting for the end of day deals. It was a game of brinksmanship that tested your resolve and courage. You stood shoulder to shoulder with people looking derisively at the nervous Nelly who jumped for the first bargain the trader offered. The game was to wait until it looked as though all the good stuff had gone, and once the last X of Y at $notverymuch was produced you had to pounce like a salt water crocodile seeing its unsuspecting victim walking along the shoreline. It was a sweaty, nervous atmosphere; peopled by others with the same competitive nature and drive to not spend anymore than they absolutely had to, but I tasted victory that day and the freezer still groans under the weight of all that salmon. In my mind I have now edited the mantra of Adelaide shoppers. The market is the best place to get deals and snag bargains at 2pm on a Saturday afternoon; if you can hold your nerve.
Just a final word of caution though: If something looks to good to be true, it probably is.
After all the feelings that it was a bit of a waste of time spending $8.80 on a bus ticket and about three hours going there and back to the market, imagine how delighted I was when I stumbled upon some chicken mince for $1.50/kilo at the butcher where I buy my roasting chooks. Ok, on closer inspection it was neck mince, but again we are on a tight budget and we're not too proud to eat what others turn their nose up at. So I dived in there after I saw a pensioner buying some. "Perfect for burgers and kebabs" I thought and enough to keep us going for a month.
At this point I probably ought to mention that in Australia it is clearly the custom to feed pets with fresh meat, albeit of a lesser quality than the truly excellent meat intended for human consumption, and at an accordingly lower price. Penny kept reminding me every time I went shopping in the supermarket that they put the meat for pets next to the normal stuff, and they don't label this particularly brazenly. You can see what's coming next, can't you?
I got the shopping home and bunged everything in the fridge, stomped out to the garden to pick some fresh herbs, rolled up my sleeves and got on with making use of the chicken. I don't know how anyone else does it, but when I make burgers I get all my bread crumbs, herbs, garlic, onions and chili minced up in a bowl and and add the meat before making it into patties. So after doing all the prep. work, imagine my surprise and dismay when I put my hands in to the bag of mince and realised that it had a gritty texture. Penny's words started to appear in my mind like the title sequence of Tales of the Unexpected. What I was feeling was bone fragments. The necks were obviously minced up without removing the vertebrae first.
Now, I am not one to waste my effort and money by giving up easily. So I decided to make a burger or two first and shove one under the grill to see if the bone fragments were as noticeable once cooked. All I can say is that it took about ten minutes to stop myself from choking and thoroughly remove all traces of bone from my esophagus after the first mouthful. Needless to say that the burgers were relegated to the wheelie bin.
This experience does beg a couple of questions going forward:
Did I subconciously insert the word "meat" into the product name when I hastily purchased 20 kangaroo meatballs for $5 from the market the other day, and am I man enough to eat them and find out.
Thursday, 27 October 2011
Still no job; yet more blog, with added pics!
Well since I still don't have a job you're getting another instalment. I have also gotten around to taking some pictures to satisfy those that have asked.
We've been in the house for about two weeks now. Hardly seems possible, but there it is. We now have beds, some furniture in the living room, a TV, a dinner table (well a $50 patio set with 2 chairs), crockery and cutlery, a fridge and lots of cardboard which I am using as coasters and place mats. We also now have a vegetable patch in our raised beds (which incidentally I am writing this blog from since it is a nice day) which we planted out on Sunday and everything is already getting up and growing.
We don't have a rolling pin, a kettle, any wood working tools (annoying since I have a workshop and a lot of free time at the moment) any new Australian friends or landline and therefore proper broadband. I am sure that all these things will come in time and the boadband needs to happen soon as 3g is costing a fortune and the connection keeps dropping :(
The copious amounts of barrier spray and bug bombs (we are up to >$100 of chemicals so far) are keeping the silverfish, cockroaches and spiders out and I have now found living or dead specimens of all the main scary ones, plus some other big black spiders that I have no idea about; crucially though, all outside or at least outside the screen doors. I am sleeping better now because of this!
Zach is now in school, which after a few days I think he is genuinely enjoying and is starting to make some friends and look a bit more settled.That is quite nice as he was getting seriously cranky at the slightest mention of going into the city to run errands which inevitably means about two hours walking and a lot of other boring stuff.
Picture of a happy Zach
I am temporarily a full time house husband, which at the moment is suiting me quite well, although I am longing for the day when I can afford a robot hoover and mop. Still, at least cleaning is easy because a) we live in a bungalow and b) we haven't got much stuff, which means no clutter!
With only one salary and the lack of relocation expenses and therefore no furniture imminently arriving, we have had to make some compromises. You need about $5k-$10k to sensibly kit out a house, which we just don't have. Fortunately we found Radio Rentals who as well as electronics also do furniture: much more expensive in the long term, but the only way we were going to get a fridge, bed, washing machine and sofa this year. We had to go a few days without a fridge which made life difficult to say the least. So we have rented as much as they would let us have, which is not as much as you might think and certainly not as much as we wanted. This meant constantly renegotiating and having to choose cheaper stuff than we originally picked and, alas, no big telly. Almost everything we have was ex-rental, i.e. someone's already had it, or ex demo and or shop soiled. Not my proudest moment to have to take the shop floor mattress that complete strangers have been lying on, but needs must. Having said all that, the guys at Radio Rentals bent over backwards to help us out and we got a good deal in the end. The delivery guys were fantastic, and I got called a whinging pom for the first time. They were good fun and clearly took pride in being helpful and quick.
Ironically enough the sofa we got, whilst not something I would buy in the UK, was probably the least hideous sofa I have seen in Australia (I am an hideous sofa snob, ask Gary). To be honest, since I had just given away my beloved 30yr old chesterfield I was in no mood to spend $3k upwards to buy another one without all the emotional attachment that one had. So we have probably the cheapest sofas in the world, but at least I can stretch out lengthways on the big one and watch F1 when it is on.
So here are a few pics of the house and garden:
The Fernery
Circle Patio outside two of the bedrooms
Frangipan Tree (smells amazing)
View from the road
Front of house
More
Back Verandah and Fern House
Living Room
Dining Room (complete with patio furniture and Ikea barstools)
Kitchen
View from the office/spare room
So we are here and we have the furniture and other stuff we need to start getting on with the process of starting our new lives here. I have a garden to potter in, which since I am not spending every waking moment worrying about a nursery full of plants that I am paid to keep alive, I am quite enjoying. It kind of feels like we've done most of the hard yards and the rest is routine and fairly easy. We shall see, but at the moment we are just enjoying the weather and our new house and home town.
To finish off, some of my personal favourites from the house:
The Doorbell
The water feature, depicting cherub urinating pathetically on the washing basket
The bin lorry
The garage door
We've been in the house for about two weeks now. Hardly seems possible, but there it is. We now have beds, some furniture in the living room, a TV, a dinner table (well a $50 patio set with 2 chairs), crockery and cutlery, a fridge and lots of cardboard which I am using as coasters and place mats. We also now have a vegetable patch in our raised beds (which incidentally I am writing this blog from since it is a nice day) which we planted out on Sunday and everything is already getting up and growing.
We don't have a rolling pin, a kettle, any wood working tools (annoying since I have a workshop and a lot of free time at the moment) any new Australian friends or landline and therefore proper broadband. I am sure that all these things will come in time and the boadband needs to happen soon as 3g is costing a fortune and the connection keeps dropping :(
The copious amounts of barrier spray and bug bombs (we are up to >$100 of chemicals so far) are keeping the silverfish, cockroaches and spiders out and I have now found living or dead specimens of all the main scary ones, plus some other big black spiders that I have no idea about; crucially though, all outside or at least outside the screen doors. I am sleeping better now because of this!
Zach is now in school, which after a few days I think he is genuinely enjoying and is starting to make some friends and look a bit more settled.That is quite nice as he was getting seriously cranky at the slightest mention of going into the city to run errands which inevitably means about two hours walking and a lot of other boring stuff.
Picture of a happy Zach
I am temporarily a full time house husband, which at the moment is suiting me quite well, although I am longing for the day when I can afford a robot hoover and mop. Still, at least cleaning is easy because a) we live in a bungalow and b) we haven't got much stuff, which means no clutter!
With only one salary and the lack of relocation expenses and therefore no furniture imminently arriving, we have had to make some compromises. You need about $5k-$10k to sensibly kit out a house, which we just don't have. Fortunately we found Radio Rentals who as well as electronics also do furniture: much more expensive in the long term, but the only way we were going to get a fridge, bed, washing machine and sofa this year. We had to go a few days without a fridge which made life difficult to say the least. So we have rented as much as they would let us have, which is not as much as you might think and certainly not as much as we wanted. This meant constantly renegotiating and having to choose cheaper stuff than we originally picked and, alas, no big telly. Almost everything we have was ex-rental, i.e. someone's already had it, or ex demo and or shop soiled. Not my proudest moment to have to take the shop floor mattress that complete strangers have been lying on, but needs must. Having said all that, the guys at Radio Rentals bent over backwards to help us out and we got a good deal in the end. The delivery guys were fantastic, and I got called a whinging pom for the first time. They were good fun and clearly took pride in being helpful and quick.
Ironically enough the sofa we got, whilst not something I would buy in the UK, was probably the least hideous sofa I have seen in Australia (I am an hideous sofa snob, ask Gary). To be honest, since I had just given away my beloved 30yr old chesterfield I was in no mood to spend $3k upwards to buy another one without all the emotional attachment that one had. So we have probably the cheapest sofas in the world, but at least I can stretch out lengthways on the big one and watch F1 when it is on.
So here are a few pics of the house and garden:
The Fernery
Circle Patio outside two of the bedrooms
Frangipan Tree (smells amazing)
View from the road
Front of house
More
Back Verandah and Fern House
Living Room
Dining Room (complete with patio furniture and Ikea barstools)
Kitchen
View from the office/spare room
So we are here and we have the furniture and other stuff we need to start getting on with the process of starting our new lives here. I have a garden to potter in, which since I am not spending every waking moment worrying about a nursery full of plants that I am paid to keep alive, I am quite enjoying. It kind of feels like we've done most of the hard yards and the rest is routine and fairly easy. We shall see, but at the moment we are just enjoying the weather and our new house and home town.
To finish off, some of my personal favourites from the house:
The Doorbell
The water feature, depicting cherub urinating pathetically on the washing basket
The bin lorry
The garage door
Wednesday, 19 October 2011
Moved in!
Well, we moved in and are mostly set up at home.
We looked at about a dozen houses, with only two of those being somewhere we actually wanted to live for a few reasons.
1. Most landlords that buy cheap houses to rent don't seem to bother upgrading the house at all. You can pay quite a lot of money for some pretty grotty houses. Also, there appears to be a neat trick of advertising a house with the amount of rooms it comes with but neglecting to state that the owner is using two of those rooms for storage. We actually had an agent suggest that we could use the hallways (which to be fair, were ample) as office space and as a spare room.
2. Most of the houses are not double glazed, for obvious reasons. But this does mean that traffic noise is pretty noticeable. Some of you may remember that I used to live right on a main road (A3 a mile south of the Hindhead lights) and the noise level in the average property we saw was comparable.
3. I don't care how nice a bloke the agent is, when I point out that there are loads of mouse droppings in the kitchen pantry that he is standing next to, which are visible from the next room, the correct response is not "oh they never reported that".
Anyway, we now have a lovely house albeit at the top of our budget with a fantastic garden in a lovely neighbourhood. I'll post some pictures once we have decent broadband rather than 3g, which is pants.
To briefly outline the accommodations we have. 3 bedrooms, 2 shower rooms (no bath), another separate loo, laundry room, workshop and double garage with automatic door (if only it went up rather than to the side I could recreate the moment in Star Wars Episode 1 when Darth Maul appears). We also have a largish open plan lounge and dining room which looks into the kitchen.
One thing we hadn't bargained for (or to strictly accurate, were really hoping not to have to bargain for) is that virtually none of the houses in Australia are furnished; most don't even come with a washing machine. Since we are still waiting for some reimbursements and I am not working this has meant we have had to rent furniture, fridges etc. and buy a telly as well as bed for Zach. Whilst we haven't been extravagant, this combined with the sheer cost of living is starting to make life a bit tricky day to day. We'll be fine once we over the hump, but the plans for the robot hoover (necessary since we have a largish house with lots of carpets, and I don't especially like hoovering) and new guitar amp will have to wait. The washing machine does play little tunes when you programme it, which I like a lot.
So where is the downside?
Well, if there is one it is the local wildlife I'm afraid.
I made the mistake the other day of going out into the garden without any insect repellent on. Not unreasonably, since I didn't have any at the time. Five mosquito bites later and I was back inside and searching for the bite cream. I did get the bugger that did it though. This was quite satisfying until the itching and swelling began.
The flies are pretty prevalent at night as well. God knows how they get in, but you can easily have five or six flying around the room at any one time. Since I am not an Eco-Fascist I have no problem at all filling the room with pesticides and watching them. They were dropping like flies; literally.
Now the three things that everyone bangs on about when you are going to Australia are the sharks, the snakes and the spiders. It actually gets pretty dull having these conversations three times a week with various people, particularly when you are trying to play down these things to a six year old who can be prone to nightmares (like all six year old children I guess). I don't mind admitting that whilst the first two animals on my list don't really bother me (the first because I can't swim and the second because I have seen so many in the UK that they don't bother me) the spiders have been getting to me. Prior to actually moving during moments of particular anxiety, usually when lying awake at 3am my imagination would go into overdrive about funnel webs and red backs and that would pretty much put the possibility of sleep out of the window. Now I don't have a particular phobia of spiders. I've worked in the outdoors for twenty years and seen and had crawling all over me a whole range of spiders and other stuff, so I really am not that scared. Obviously the stakes are a bit higher when you can get a nasty bite from something, but the animals themselves don't concern me as individuals.
We stayed in a motel for the first few weeks we were here, and I admit that the first night or two I was expecting to see spiders everywhere, so I was a bit cautious keeping all clothes off the floor etc. When none materialised I was immediately at ease and the whole subject went out of my mind. That was until we moved in here and started looking in the cupboards............
When we where moving in properly, building beds etc and putting things away we started noticing quite a few webs in the cupboards. When then started to find the odd egg sack in drawers (the cutlery drawer, errrr) and behind the curtains. Anyway I opened the patio doors in one of the bedrooms to let some air in, and in between the door and the screen was a large spider that looked like a tarantula (seriously, google megalomorph). I got something sharp and heavy and gave it a good going over. Fortunately it was dead, but I was on my guard after that. Not wanting to alarm anyone I kept my mouth shut and went and bought some fly spray and thought no more about it. When Pen saw the fly spray I owned up, and she muttered the immortal words:
"I wasn't going to tell you, but when I was moving your medicines from their bag under the sink in the bathroom to the drawers there was a big black spider in the there".
Me: "Did you kill it? Where is it so I can identify it."
Pen: "Well I went to put it outside, but there appears to have been a hole in the bottom of the bag and it fell out somewhere on the way".
So, we did some cleaning, sprayed some fly spray and said no more about it.
The next day I was in the office when I noticed a spider run under my unpacked suitcase. So I got a glass and the spray and killed it. I left it till later to identify. Turns out it was a white tail (or white tip) albeit a baby one. Now these can give you a nasty bite, which can ulcerate. The worst thing however is that the bites tend to happen at night, in bed. Yes, they crawl in to your bed, and if you roll on them or startle them they bite you.
So we e-mailed our agents, and they said words to the effect of "don't worry, get some spray, harden the fuck up".
Anyway, I was a bit restless in bed last night, and I was having one of those weird sensations that something was crawling on me which kept waking me up with flinches and spasms and general girlyness. After about two hours I decided to read, and as is the accepted protocol reached down to the floor for Pen's phone which I use as a torch. I switched it on and noticed a spider crawling out from behind the curtains. I gave it a slap and stunned it. I got it into the light and guess what: it was a white tail. I swept it up and went to measure it (just to see how much bigger it could get) and bugger me if it wasn't moving and about to scarper. Needless to say that I used something heavier and got the job done.
So today I am going to buy two things. A large amount of insect sprays, and a copy of War and Peace. Next time I wallop a spider I want to do more than stun it.
We looked at about a dozen houses, with only two of those being somewhere we actually wanted to live for a few reasons.
1. Most landlords that buy cheap houses to rent don't seem to bother upgrading the house at all. You can pay quite a lot of money for some pretty grotty houses. Also, there appears to be a neat trick of advertising a house with the amount of rooms it comes with but neglecting to state that the owner is using two of those rooms for storage. We actually had an agent suggest that we could use the hallways (which to be fair, were ample) as office space and as a spare room.
2. Most of the houses are not double glazed, for obvious reasons. But this does mean that traffic noise is pretty noticeable. Some of you may remember that I used to live right on a main road (A3 a mile south of the Hindhead lights) and the noise level in the average property we saw was comparable.
3. I don't care how nice a bloke the agent is, when I point out that there are loads of mouse droppings in the kitchen pantry that he is standing next to, which are visible from the next room, the correct response is not "oh they never reported that".
Anyway, we now have a lovely house albeit at the top of our budget with a fantastic garden in a lovely neighbourhood. I'll post some pictures once we have decent broadband rather than 3g, which is pants.
To briefly outline the accommodations we have. 3 bedrooms, 2 shower rooms (no bath), another separate loo, laundry room, workshop and double garage with automatic door (if only it went up rather than to the side I could recreate the moment in Star Wars Episode 1 when Darth Maul appears). We also have a largish open plan lounge and dining room which looks into the kitchen.
One thing we hadn't bargained for (or to strictly accurate, were really hoping not to have to bargain for) is that virtually none of the houses in Australia are furnished; most don't even come with a washing machine. Since we are still waiting for some reimbursements and I am not working this has meant we have had to rent furniture, fridges etc. and buy a telly as well as bed for Zach. Whilst we haven't been extravagant, this combined with the sheer cost of living is starting to make life a bit tricky day to day. We'll be fine once we over the hump, but the plans for the robot hoover (necessary since we have a largish house with lots of carpets, and I don't especially like hoovering) and new guitar amp will have to wait. The washing machine does play little tunes when you programme it, which I like a lot.
So where is the downside?
Well, if there is one it is the local wildlife I'm afraid.
I made the mistake the other day of going out into the garden without any insect repellent on. Not unreasonably, since I didn't have any at the time. Five mosquito bites later and I was back inside and searching for the bite cream. I did get the bugger that did it though. This was quite satisfying until the itching and swelling began.
The flies are pretty prevalent at night as well. God knows how they get in, but you can easily have five or six flying around the room at any one time. Since I am not an Eco-Fascist I have no problem at all filling the room with pesticides and watching them. They were dropping like flies; literally.
Now the three things that everyone bangs on about when you are going to Australia are the sharks, the snakes and the spiders. It actually gets pretty dull having these conversations three times a week with various people, particularly when you are trying to play down these things to a six year old who can be prone to nightmares (like all six year old children I guess). I don't mind admitting that whilst the first two animals on my list don't really bother me (the first because I can't swim and the second because I have seen so many in the UK that they don't bother me) the spiders have been getting to me. Prior to actually moving during moments of particular anxiety, usually when lying awake at 3am my imagination would go into overdrive about funnel webs and red backs and that would pretty much put the possibility of sleep out of the window. Now I don't have a particular phobia of spiders. I've worked in the outdoors for twenty years and seen and had crawling all over me a whole range of spiders and other stuff, so I really am not that scared. Obviously the stakes are a bit higher when you can get a nasty bite from something, but the animals themselves don't concern me as individuals.
We stayed in a motel for the first few weeks we were here, and I admit that the first night or two I was expecting to see spiders everywhere, so I was a bit cautious keeping all clothes off the floor etc. When none materialised I was immediately at ease and the whole subject went out of my mind. That was until we moved in here and started looking in the cupboards............
When we where moving in properly, building beds etc and putting things away we started noticing quite a few webs in the cupboards. When then started to find the odd egg sack in drawers (the cutlery drawer, errrr) and behind the curtains. Anyway I opened the patio doors in one of the bedrooms to let some air in, and in between the door and the screen was a large spider that looked like a tarantula (seriously, google megalomorph). I got something sharp and heavy and gave it a good going over. Fortunately it was dead, but I was on my guard after that. Not wanting to alarm anyone I kept my mouth shut and went and bought some fly spray and thought no more about it. When Pen saw the fly spray I owned up, and she muttered the immortal words:
"I wasn't going to tell you, but when I was moving your medicines from their bag under the sink in the bathroom to the drawers there was a big black spider in the there".
Me: "Did you kill it? Where is it so I can identify it."
Pen: "Well I went to put it outside, but there appears to have been a hole in the bottom of the bag and it fell out somewhere on the way".
So, we did some cleaning, sprayed some fly spray and said no more about it.
The next day I was in the office when I noticed a spider run under my unpacked suitcase. So I got a glass and the spray and killed it. I left it till later to identify. Turns out it was a white tail (or white tip) albeit a baby one. Now these can give you a nasty bite, which can ulcerate. The worst thing however is that the bites tend to happen at night, in bed. Yes, they crawl in to your bed, and if you roll on them or startle them they bite you.
So we e-mailed our agents, and they said words to the effect of "don't worry, get some spray, harden the fuck up".
Anyway, I was a bit restless in bed last night, and I was having one of those weird sensations that something was crawling on me which kept waking me up with flinches and spasms and general girlyness. After about two hours I decided to read, and as is the accepted protocol reached down to the floor for Pen's phone which I use as a torch. I switched it on and noticed a spider crawling out from behind the curtains. I gave it a slap and stunned it. I got it into the light and guess what: it was a white tail. I swept it up and went to measure it (just to see how much bigger it could get) and bugger me if it wasn't moving and about to scarper. Needless to say that I used something heavier and got the job done.
So today I am going to buy two things. A large amount of insect sprays, and a copy of War and Peace. Next time I wallop a spider I want to do more than stun it.
Thursday, 6 October 2011
Part 2: My Real Estate Agent and Other Animals
Well, from my calculations we are two weeks in and since I don't have a job yet, you're getting another blog post. This one is a bit longer as I have a couple of points to bang on about.
This last week has been a bit more focused, and the main point of order has been finding a house. This is quite an interesting exercise and exposes one of the key differences that anyone coming from the UK will instantly recognise.
The balance of power in residential lettings rests with the landlord; the lettings agents very clearly work for them.
The first major difference is the way in which you view houses. We looked on the Internet (still no laptop, so we have to get a bus into the city and use Internet cafes) and got a list of houses we thought might suit, then phoned an agent with a few properties and were advised to go into the office. We had a nice chat with the receptionist (ex pat) and one of the senior partners and all seemed well, till I asked a loaded question:
"So, if we book an appointment with you can you take us to a few houses and show us around as we don't have a car"
Answer: "No, we don't do that. After all, if you don't like the house we would have wasted our time. You need to go on the advertised open time (usually a Wednesday or Saturday, and only for 15 mins). Also, agents have allotted properties and can't show another person's stock. I suggest you get a car."
OK, no problem, so we chatted to one of the agents with a house we liked. We asked when he was opening it next:
"I could show you now if you like, although I am off at 16.30 (it was about 15.45) so it would have to be soon.
Me:
"OK, we don't have a car, and it looks too far to walk, could you give us a lift."
[Long embarrassed pause]
"We don't really do that. Why don't you go on the Internet and check the next opening time then hire a car."
So I learnt three lessons from this. Firstly, you need a car and the Internet to get a house, unless everything is on bus routes. Secondly, you always get a straight answer from anyone who is customer facing in Australia, even if it is not the one you wanted; I like this. Finally: Holy Fuck, estate agents have an easy life here! I mean seriously, we have had them driving us round for a couple of hours in the UK looking at multiple properties. I assumed it was just part of the service.
The upside of the Australia real estate industry is that it isn't populated by lots of young men in their early twenties who buy their shirt and tie combos from Burtons (or Morrisons for all I know), wear long pointy brown shoes (even with black trousers, grr), who seem to behave as though they are on the set of a Danny Dyer movie (and not one of the good ones, neither) and call you "Mate". It is actually quite professional over here. So much so that I actually decided not to wear a Steel Panther t-shirt when going to hand in an application today.
Also, the application form you have to fill makes it feel more like you are applying for a job. Both parties have to supply two referees, not just previous landlords etc., but as actual character witnesses. So we had to find four people who would vouch for us as decent upstanding pillars of the community. That would have been hard even if we had been allowed to include family members! Possibly even harder.
More on houses later, possibly even with pics of a new house.....
The thing that I really like about Australia, and although there is no reason not to have suspected this in advance it is a really pleasant surprise, is that people are really nice and anyone who works in any kind of customer service seems to be there to help you and is generally pleased to do so.
For example, I have a personal bank manager who I can e-mail at any point and ask stuff. I called him Bruce by mistake (his name is Shane) and he didn't mind. I have been to the bank a couple of times and the bank teller actually remembered my face (yes, not difficult I know) and almost remembered my name. They clearly do this as a matter of course. He helped us find a completely unrelated government building that we were looking for and generally went about his business in a friendly and efficient manner.
When we arrived at the airport I asked the guy selling coffee how much a cab would be to where we were staying. He didn't know the area, so he asked another customer and we all had a nice conversation. I got the answer I wanted and went about my way, but they were all still happily discussing this as I wandered out of ear shot.
Nice people talk to you on the bus, not just the weirdos. People smile and nod and say good morning as you walk towards them. A waiter in a restaurant laughed at a reference I made to jugs. FFS even the teenagers are polite! It is likely that if you talk to anyone for more than thirty seconds they will tell you something interesting about themselves along the line of your conversation, or other similarly amusing anecdote. Try and talk to a stranger the next time you are on the bus, tube or train, or even at a coffee stand and see how far you get.
But my favourite story is one that I wasn't even present for. Penny was in a shop (alright, it was an off licence) and the lady in front of her was buying a bottle of wine and fumbling with the currency. Clearly new in the country, she looked up at the shop assistant and asked how much it was:
"That'll be $100"
The lady was horrified.
"Really?!"
"No, not really. It's $24. I just wanted to see the look on your face."
I may have said this before: I love Australia. If you've had enough of customer service in the UK, just move here.
This last week has been a bit more focused, and the main point of order has been finding a house. This is quite an interesting exercise and exposes one of the key differences that anyone coming from the UK will instantly recognise.
The balance of power in residential lettings rests with the landlord; the lettings agents very clearly work for them.
The first major difference is the way in which you view houses. We looked on the Internet (still no laptop, so we have to get a bus into the city and use Internet cafes) and got a list of houses we thought might suit, then phoned an agent with a few properties and were advised to go into the office. We had a nice chat with the receptionist (ex pat) and one of the senior partners and all seemed well, till I asked a loaded question:
"So, if we book an appointment with you can you take us to a few houses and show us around as we don't have a car"
Answer: "No, we don't do that. After all, if you don't like the house we would have wasted our time. You need to go on the advertised open time (usually a Wednesday or Saturday, and only for 15 mins). Also, agents have allotted properties and can't show another person's stock. I suggest you get a car."
OK, no problem, so we chatted to one of the agents with a house we liked. We asked when he was opening it next:
"I could show you now if you like, although I am off at 16.30 (it was about 15.45) so it would have to be soon.
Me:
"OK, we don't have a car, and it looks too far to walk, could you give us a lift."
[Long embarrassed pause]
"We don't really do that. Why don't you go on the Internet and check the next opening time then hire a car."
So I learnt three lessons from this. Firstly, you need a car and the Internet to get a house, unless everything is on bus routes. Secondly, you always get a straight answer from anyone who is customer facing in Australia, even if it is not the one you wanted; I like this. Finally: Holy Fuck, estate agents have an easy life here! I mean seriously, we have had them driving us round for a couple of hours in the UK looking at multiple properties. I assumed it was just part of the service.
The upside of the Australia real estate industry is that it isn't populated by lots of young men in their early twenties who buy their shirt and tie combos from Burtons (or Morrisons for all I know), wear long pointy brown shoes (even with black trousers, grr), who seem to behave as though they are on the set of a Danny Dyer movie (and not one of the good ones, neither) and call you "Mate". It is actually quite professional over here. So much so that I actually decided not to wear a Steel Panther t-shirt when going to hand in an application today.
Also, the application form you have to fill makes it feel more like you are applying for a job. Both parties have to supply two referees, not just previous landlords etc., but as actual character witnesses. So we had to find four people who would vouch for us as decent upstanding pillars of the community. That would have been hard even if we had been allowed to include family members! Possibly even harder.
More on houses later, possibly even with pics of a new house.....
The thing that I really like about Australia, and although there is no reason not to have suspected this in advance it is a really pleasant surprise, is that people are really nice and anyone who works in any kind of customer service seems to be there to help you and is generally pleased to do so.
For example, I have a personal bank manager who I can e-mail at any point and ask stuff. I called him Bruce by mistake (his name is Shane) and he didn't mind. I have been to the bank a couple of times and the bank teller actually remembered my face (yes, not difficult I know) and almost remembered my name. They clearly do this as a matter of course. He helped us find a completely unrelated government building that we were looking for and generally went about his business in a friendly and efficient manner.
When we arrived at the airport I asked the guy selling coffee how much a cab would be to where we were staying. He didn't know the area, so he asked another customer and we all had a nice conversation. I got the answer I wanted and went about my way, but they were all still happily discussing this as I wandered out of ear shot.
Nice people talk to you on the bus, not just the weirdos. People smile and nod and say good morning as you walk towards them. A waiter in a restaurant laughed at a reference I made to jugs. FFS even the teenagers are polite! It is likely that if you talk to anyone for more than thirty seconds they will tell you something interesting about themselves along the line of your conversation, or other similarly amusing anecdote. Try and talk to a stranger the next time you are on the bus, tube or train, or even at a coffee stand and see how far you get.
But my favourite story is one that I wasn't even present for. Penny was in a shop (alright, it was an off licence) and the lady in front of her was buying a bottle of wine and fumbling with the currency. Clearly new in the country, she looked up at the shop assistant and asked how much it was:
"That'll be $100"
The lady was horrified.
"Really?!"
"No, not really. It's $24. I just wanted to see the look on your face."
I may have said this before: I love Australia. If you've had enough of customer service in the UK, just move here.
Saturday, 1 October 2011
Part 1: Arrival and the first week
Ok, a couple of people suggested that I start a blog about our move to Australia. Quite a lot has happened since seeing most of our friends and family in the UK, including a stressful move and a lovely few days in the the S of F. But let's start as we mean to go on and stick to the point; this is about moving to Australia, not about the trials and tribulations of getting away from the UK.
Arrival:
We arrived in Australia on Friday 23rd September. We'd been travelling for about 36 hours or thereabouts and because of the nature of long haul travel we hadn't seen daylight for more than a few short hours in that time. Zach and Penny both managed to sleep pretty well but I only got about three hours. Having said that the excitement of arriving in a new country (and the inflight entertainment system having a few good films and several episodes of The Inbetweeners) kept me feeling pretty alert.
As some of you will know, airlines insist on all the window shades being shut during "nightime", so we had been flying across Australia for a couple of hours before the lights came on and someone sitting by a window near us opened a blind. The sun was just starting to come up, which from 35,000ft gives you an unrivalled view. The sunrise stretched from across the whole horizon and the colours were brilliant. Stretched below us was a sea of greys and pinks that could of been desert or cloud. I'm still not sure.
We landed at around 08.30am, and cleared customs. This is where you start to see the first tangible difference between the UK and Australia; the customs officers appear human!
The first shock of the day was the cost of the coffee, and this has been a recurring theme throughout our time here. I always assume that everything costs the same in local currency as it does in sterling. So a beer should cost 4 euros, dollars, whatever. This is not the case. I think our first round of two coffees, water and sausage roll for zach was something closer $25 dollars.
We got a cab to the motel and all got some sleep. The rest of the day is a bit of a blur but I can say that it was cold! We are in the early spring here at the moment, which is quite a departure from the late summer weather in the south fo France. The next three days were taken up with jetlag and in my case, not much sleep. Apart from that we have started to explore Adelaide and it is definitely an easy city to get to know and it is instantly likeable. One of the real bonuses is the wildlife. You hear a lot of birdsong, the difference is it is cockatoos, parakeets and gallahs! That is a nice thing to wake up to.
Probably the biggest difference noticed so far is the cars. I swear I heard more V8 engines in the first afternoon than in the rest of my life to that point. I would say that half the cars are V6 or V8 with a healthy dollop of seriously loud Imprezzas and old school Nissan Skylines as well. This probably wouldn't be worth a mention if we weren't in a motel next to the main motorway that services Adelaide from all points east! The trucks are also seriously loud and look more like American rigs (think Smokey and the Bandit and Convoy) which for Zach is really exciting, less so for us at 2am.
The real shock though is beer. Firstly there are very few pubs as we would know them. In the city and suburbs at least there doesn't seem to be the same pub culture we would expect in the UK. Secondly the beer is unbelievably expensive. A six-pack of average Australian beer, in the cheapest off-licence goes for around $18 dollars (that is 11.78 in sterling). To put this into context, you can walk into your local Morrisons and buy a six-pack of VB (Victoria Bitter, the lowest rank of Ozzie beer) for less for around 2/3rds of the cost than someone in the country it was brewed in. Finally, you can only buy alcohol in sanctioned off-licences, this does not generally include supermarkets. It will surprise most of you to learn that I have seen more shops devoted to "adult interests and marital aids" than off licences. I'm not joking about this, virtually every local shopping street has one!
It puts to test the myth of the beer swilling Australian bloke. It also raises questions about our attitudes to alcohol in the UK in the past 20 years or so. When we are looking at young people and wondering why there are such problems with violence and anti-social behaviour in Britain we ought to be asking ourselves whether it is sensible that we are able to buy 24 cans of lager for a tenner and what message we are sending to the younger generations. I am not saying that there isn't a problem over here, but you certainly see less evidence of it.
So, to end, I already love Australia and Adelaide. There are a quite a few differences, but nothing truly negative so far.
Arrival:
We arrived in Australia on Friday 23rd September. We'd been travelling for about 36 hours or thereabouts and because of the nature of long haul travel we hadn't seen daylight for more than a few short hours in that time. Zach and Penny both managed to sleep pretty well but I only got about three hours. Having said that the excitement of arriving in a new country (and the inflight entertainment system having a few good films and several episodes of The Inbetweeners) kept me feeling pretty alert.
As some of you will know, airlines insist on all the window shades being shut during "nightime", so we had been flying across Australia for a couple of hours before the lights came on and someone sitting by a window near us opened a blind. The sun was just starting to come up, which from 35,000ft gives you an unrivalled view. The sunrise stretched from across the whole horizon and the colours were brilliant. Stretched below us was a sea of greys and pinks that could of been desert or cloud. I'm still not sure.
We landed at around 08.30am, and cleared customs. This is where you start to see the first tangible difference between the UK and Australia; the customs officers appear human!
The first shock of the day was the cost of the coffee, and this has been a recurring theme throughout our time here. I always assume that everything costs the same in local currency as it does in sterling. So a beer should cost 4 euros, dollars, whatever. This is not the case. I think our first round of two coffees, water and sausage roll for zach was something closer $25 dollars.
We got a cab to the motel and all got some sleep. The rest of the day is a bit of a blur but I can say that it was cold! We are in the early spring here at the moment, which is quite a departure from the late summer weather in the south fo France. The next three days were taken up with jetlag and in my case, not much sleep. Apart from that we have started to explore Adelaide and it is definitely an easy city to get to know and it is instantly likeable. One of the real bonuses is the wildlife. You hear a lot of birdsong, the difference is it is cockatoos, parakeets and gallahs! That is a nice thing to wake up to.
Probably the biggest difference noticed so far is the cars. I swear I heard more V8 engines in the first afternoon than in the rest of my life to that point. I would say that half the cars are V6 or V8 with a healthy dollop of seriously loud Imprezzas and old school Nissan Skylines as well. This probably wouldn't be worth a mention if we weren't in a motel next to the main motorway that services Adelaide from all points east! The trucks are also seriously loud and look more like American rigs (think Smokey and the Bandit and Convoy) which for Zach is really exciting, less so for us at 2am.
The real shock though is beer. Firstly there are very few pubs as we would know them. In the city and suburbs at least there doesn't seem to be the same pub culture we would expect in the UK. Secondly the beer is unbelievably expensive. A six-pack of average Australian beer, in the cheapest off-licence goes for around $18 dollars (that is 11.78 in sterling). To put this into context, you can walk into your local Morrisons and buy a six-pack of VB (Victoria Bitter, the lowest rank of Ozzie beer) for less for around 2/3rds of the cost than someone in the country it was brewed in. Finally, you can only buy alcohol in sanctioned off-licences, this does not generally include supermarkets. It will surprise most of you to learn that I have seen more shops devoted to "adult interests and marital aids" than off licences. I'm not joking about this, virtually every local shopping street has one!
It puts to test the myth of the beer swilling Australian bloke. It also raises questions about our attitudes to alcohol in the UK in the past 20 years or so. When we are looking at young people and wondering why there are such problems with violence and anti-social behaviour in Britain we ought to be asking ourselves whether it is sensible that we are able to buy 24 cans of lager for a tenner and what message we are sending to the younger generations. I am not saying that there isn't a problem over here, but you certainly see less evidence of it.
So, to end, I already love Australia and Adelaide. There are a quite a few differences, but nothing truly negative so far.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)