cooper & ivy

For I am here in Australia, I certainly have to make the attempt of assimilating as well as I can in this strangely familiar environment. This attempt actually entails watching heaps of sports while sipping on a cool Cooper's Pale Ale. Coming from a fairly sporty country - as regards soccer - I felt that watching games at the pub is a nice thing to do but coming out of the pub and joining the action seemed a bit more appealing. This happened yesterday, when I attended my first Rugby match here in the Sydney Football Stadium. It was supposed to be heaven for me but turned out as one of the most boring games I must have seen in my life. The Waratahs (the local New South Wales team, named after the, for this area, typical flower) were playing the Chiefs from NZ. Knock-ons, missed tackles, lack of passion - this game had it all. After this disappointment it seemed only logic to go and forget about the game while having a couple of drinks out in town. My constant companions, Simon and Igor, took me out to a place called 'Priviledge', a name that speaks for itself. I was in fact not privileged enough to enter, even though wearing working clothes and showing up in a way I would possibly not consider if I was back home in Holland. A small talk with the bouncer followed and he did not accept my driver's license as an ID. Fair enough, you get wankers pretty much everywhere. But why do we need the 'Privilege', when we got 'The Ivy'? Awesome location with big prices but nice people. It is probably one of the poshest places I have ever been in and after last night not the last time. Oh yeah, I forgot to say that Simon and I were on our own, since Igor stayed at that former club to meet up with some of his mates. We met some girls that we asked to mime our company and within a split second were were called through, passed by the 30 meter line and entered the realms of expensive debauchery. To those of you who know me and that are aware of the fact that my background is fairly sweaty - let me tell you that I actually blow-dried my shirt under the hand-drier in the bathroom. Ridiculous. Well, my dear working colleagues with whom we attended the match as well as Adele, my dear friend I met in Hong Kong joined us and we had an awesome night.

On our return home, Adele and I decided to go onto my balcony, put down some pillows and had (what turned out to be actually two each this morning) a final beer. Adele then fell asleep and I joined in. Her endeavors to wake me up by shaking my leg, faded away in the sweet numbness of a drunkard's sleep. At about 6 am I awoke, feeling approximately 500 kg heavier, covered in mosquito bites and tired like a... ah, think of a metaphor for yourself.

Now I am sitting in the pub, hoping that our Internet connection will work on Monday, so I can have more substantial and consistent contact with everyone. Ciao me friends.