Fortitude Valley, Brisbane, Queensland

Well, despite what we had heard (Cheers Jim) Brisbane turned out to be amazing. It's the anti Sydney in lots of ways - really quiet with loads of great bars and restaurants & markets and shops.

Sandra used her uncanny unconcious internet booking skills to find a hotel that was over the road from a fetish shop where you could dress up like one of the Village People for only $59.99 - bargain. The area is called Fortitude Valley and it is about 20 minutes walk from Brisbane's CBD; it's fair to say it's rum old place. Here is an example: last night we went to a bar and a bloke got glassed in the head. There was blood all over him; one of the bar staff ambles over and casual as you like starts bandaging his head like pudsey bear the whole time laughing and joking. Then the fella and his mates carried on drinking at the bar while the bandage filled up with blood. The police station was only six doors down the street and they didn't think the incident warranted a visit. In fact, the only thing that changed after the glassing that the blokes there changed their drinks from lager to red wine. Insane.

Musical Fact: The Valley is where the legendary Go-Betweens come from and also the less than legendary Keith Urban & Savage Garden.

We also went to the supurb art gallery - see above and were also appalled to see the Big Issue sellers here can't even be arsed to stand up to beg and even bring chairs out with them. We even saw one today who had a drink from Starbucks. They are not even trying.

Lone Point, Queensland

As we mentioned a couple of weeks back it is an offence in New South Wales (and almost all other territories) to hold a Koala. However, the exception to this rule is in Queensland where the first and largest Koala sanctuary was founded in the 1920's to protect the endagered species. There are now over 130 koala's living there so the government has given dispensation for koala's to be held, and brilliantly, they have worked out an exact time that the marsupials can be cuddled for: 30 minutes a day.

As if cuddling Koalas wasn't amazing enough you can also just walk around the park hugging and feeding random kangaroos. They are so tame that toddlers are hanging off their necks and mauling them and they don't bat an eyelid. One bolshy french teenager did shove a camera in one of the kangaroo's faces and it jumped up and kicked him, which was an amazing moment - unfortunately i couldn't get the camera out in time to film it.

While we were having our dinner a lizard (pictured above) actually dropped out of a tree onto the ground next to us. Lone Point then, full points for cuddling animals, nil points for health & safety.

On a bus for seventeen and three quarter hours.

It was either Johann Wolfgang von Goethe or Kanye West who said if it doesn't kill me it will only make me stronger. I can only assume whoever it was who said it, they had had the misfortune to travel the on the 17 and three quarter hour trip from Sydney to Brisbane on a Premier Motor Service coach on the back seat which is 18 inches to the left of the toilet door. (see above, my face after two hours in -the white thing is the toilet door handle).

To make sure our journey was even more extra special the neo nazi with the Freddie Mercury moustache at the coach desk made us remove 5kg from our luggage and then put this into a bin bag which would then be free to empty out all over the cargo containers under the coach as soon as it moved. The bus was full up, so despite the fact that we were one of the first to check in, he made sure that we were sat on the back seat with me adjacent to the toilet door; this meant that everytime i was on the cusp of sleep either a severe looking German backpacker in stonewash denim would efficently pull the door open its full weight into my leg and look at me quizically as if to say 'Vy is your leg blocking zee door?' or a dosile chinese girl in her pyjamas would spring out of the toilet and crash the door with inches of my face and then shout "I velly solly!"

Add to this that the driver (who also had a Freddie Mercury moustache - maybe it's part of the uniform) would drive the 450 miles by alternating between doing 100 mph + on the motorway, in the teaming rain while tail gating lorries then for no reason pull off into a country lane and trundle along at 20mph for the next hour. To make matters even more surreal we pulled into a service station off the motorway and there were half a dozen kangaroos sat on the grass in the dark looking at the bus. Sandra was going to attempt to give one a hug but was frightened it might punch her.

Too early to make up our mind about Brisbane yet; but it seems to be true what my mate Dave said, everyone looks like they have come from the shallow end of a very small gene pool.

Finally, i woke up this morning to see Sandra's attempt at travelling light set out on the table, thought i'd take a picture. In the last place we stayed i counted up and there were 32 items of makeup and hair products in the bathroom.

$10 Polystyrene Shoes

I think it's worth noting that at this point in proceedings i have taken to wearing $10 dollar fake croc's sandals made entirely out of polystyrene from the local knock off chinese market. Even homeless people in australia will not stoop to wearing these. I am not sure if i have reached an age where i do not care what i look like anymore or this is indicative of my current mental state.

I can see you Launa.

Well where else to go after the visa news? The Zoo... Tarronga Zoo infact - which the guide told us is the Aborigini word for 'Sea View' but which Sandra misheard, magnificintly, as the aborigini word for 'I can see you.' Her dream almost came true when we were minutes inside the zoo and she was allowed to have her photograph taken with Launa the koala bear (she did manage to keep control of herself and not do any stroking and in the process not risk the wrath of the law).

The zoo itself was bizarre - like half of noah's ark -with only one of every animal. But they did have tree kangaroos (kangaroos that live in trees and hop along the branch's - why has the world not been told that these exsist?) and red pandas. They also had red belly snakes (The err... black snakes above) which were found in the bushes around our cabin in Tuggerah.

Ibis Hotel & Visa Trouble.

Not the greatest of days... after we have gotten round to sorting out jobs on the central coast we have found out that despite being skilled migrants and elligible for visa's it will take in excess of six months for them to process and then we have to apply to the state we want to work in and then do unpaid work experience for two weeks before being allowed to work. We worked out that it will cost around $10 grand to rent a place and live before we could draw a wage. In my calculations that's approximately $10 grand more than we can afford to spend. We may have to travel until we spend up, come back to Blighty and sort it out for next year. Phtttttttttt. Still Sandra continues to fit wardrobes of dwindling size.

Roarrr!!!

Due to us having plenty of time because of the rain we have managed to add more photos to the blog. Just scroll down to the previous posts and you'll see them.

Back in Sydney...in the rain

Thanks to an aussie rail network worthy of British Rail we have found ourselves stuck having to stay in Sydney, we were due to be going up the coast for a few days but it was just not worth the hassle. We had to move down from the glamorous radisson hotel (have a look how sturdy the wardrobes are there) to the 16ft by 16ft box rooms of the ibis hotel which is located between a knocking shop and an off licence.

Sydney in the rain is looking more and more like Rhyl. We went to the NSW Art Gallery today which in very much in keeping with it's surroundings - it's really crap too.

Hope Brisbane come's up trumps.

Happy Birthday to me!

It's with the mother of all hangovers i write this on my second day of being 31.

We got back to Sydney yesterday for my birthday; now, i don't know if it's a sign of my increasing years or i'm just really missing Jimmy but the first thing i wanted to do on my special day was to go and get a back rub off a middle age chinese man. This, in hindsight, might have been a bit of a mistake as all that happened was he pummelled me into submission by jabbing his elbow in my back and touched my bum for much longer than i believe is strictly required for a standard massage. Also, the only lasting effect of the 'treatment' is that my left eyeball throbbed for almost twenty four hours.

Sandra bought me a hip flask as a present so i will be able begin my final fully fleged descent into alcoholism. She also got us tickets to go and watch Matchbox 20 last night. They were very good, very American and played for ages. We made another unsuccessful attempt to go out for a drink after the gig but it seemed that all the local pubs were having a St Helen's theme night (the theme being rough women/bar room brawls) so we called it a night.

In an attempt to shake off the post birthday hangover we took a boat trip around Sydney Harbour which was exhilirating. The opera house is really crap though it looks like a cross between a Mid Seventies inner city shopping centre and a magistrates court but much much smaller. We did get to see Russell Crowe & Nicole Kidman's house's on the way though, which was nice.

Pelicans & Ducks & Deserted Beaches

This is San's new family who have been coming to eat outside our cabin everyday, they've progressed from smart price bread to linseed oil batons. bet they'll miss her...

Tuggerah Lake, Second Week

We popped into one of the only two bars (well it's actually a hotel /bar/bookie/bottle shop and our mate greg the grog works in all four) in Tuggerah where San ordered a heineken, at the end of the bar we heard an aussie accent slur the word "Yeeeaaaarrrgh." We looked round to see a heavily built tattooed aussie bloke. He pointed over "Great beer that..." we nodded politely - anyone over 15 will tell you it's not "...and i should know because i'm dutch."

Obviously as Dutch as Irish Lance from san Diego.

What is wrong with everyone? Why can't anyone admit to where they are from anymore?

Anyway, the weather took a bit of a nose dive and went into full scale rain with thunder and fork lightning for a few days so we have been dodging the showers. Sandra insisted on getting her picture taken alongside this flower in a local garden for the blind on two consective days, on the third the flower had been mysteriously nicked so i wasn't looking to picking up the disposable camera pictures today incase she was in the frame. I'll have to check her suitcase...

Tuggerah Lake, The Entrance, NSW

It was a welcome three hour journey out of Sydney in the rain and up the coast (the first part by train, the second by bus). We arrived at the entrance, a stunning village on a rural peninsula (alas, there will be no photos for a while because someone - ok, me - left the camera in Sydney and we won't be back to pick it up for another week or so).

We are staying in a beautiful log cabin on the banks of Lake Tuggerah where Sandra goes out every morning to feed the pelicans and the ducks who are so tame they eat out of your hand. Over the road is the beach - raw and unspoilt white sand and the rolling greeny blue waves of the Tasmin Sea.

The closest shops are half an hour's walk away along the banks of the lake and thepeople couldn't be anymore friendly; the bloke in the offy didn't want to see us struggling so he dropped the beer off after work for us ('Greg with the grog')

It goes dark at half in the afternoon, and i mean pitch dark as there are no street lights and you can barely see six foot in front of your face. As a result our body clocks have changed and we are going to bed at nine and waking up at six. The telly here has only three channels and is pretty crap. Jamie Oliver even turned up on one station so we went to bed at eight that night.

The views and the wildlife are amazing so we go and buy a couple of disposable cameras> When we put them into be processed i am just to ask for the one hour's service the woman says "You do know that that is going to take atleast seven days lovey, it's got to be sent to Melbourne."

We spend our days between walking the lake and sitting on the beach. Despite it being Autumn the temperature is somewhere between eighty and ninety and my skin has even turned from it's slighlty transparent blue to a lobster red.

The manageress of the park we are staying on came over started telling us about a national park up the road. It was stunning she said but her mind went blank when she tried to recall it's name. At that point a small boat moored up at the banks and she called over

"Louie, What's the name of the park up north?"

Louie emerged clutching a fishing rod. He was a tiny man wearing vests and sunglasses, he was weathered by years in the sun and only had one massive front tooth.

"The one where those guy's out walking found that bloke who'd hung himself?"

She shot Louie a look to shut up.

"Anyway, if you just stay on the road it's about 5-6 minutes max on..."

"And then of course" it was Louie again "That was where they found the body of that fifteen year old about six months ago."

We've got another week here so we are going to avoid going to the national park.

And talking to Louie again.

Illegal in New South Wales

Oh and another thing i forgot to mention - on the flight from LA to Sydney Quantas sat us inbetween another and singing and jumping dance troupe (this time it was Sydney's 'Electric dance troupe). They were much less of a pain in the arse than the one's on the London to New York flight but we are going to stipulate that we want seats away from any dance troupes on our next flight.

Also we went to the zoo on Sydney harbour for Sandra to enquire could she hold a koala like the man in the leaflet was doing before we handed over our 30 bucks each. The woman said "it is against the law for anyone to hold a koala in New South Wales. It is no Sandra's plan to shake one out of a tree so it falls into her arms.

We also stayed in the Rydges hotel were San found that there was ample room for her to perform a head stand in the wardrobe.

Sydney, NSW

This morning we had the following exchange:

San: Sydney is the worst place i have been to in my entire life.

Me: What? even worse than St Helens?

San: Atleast they've got a Top Shop.

And do you know what she might just be right. Despite what i have heard from loads of people it is a bit grim, filthy, expensive and there is very little to do. The harbour is extremely pretty and has a few nice bars but the weather (four seasons in one day, if you will) means that you are between humid sunshine and torrents of rain every couple of hours. On top of that we went to a chinese restaurant last night and my rice was served with a shiny black curly hair in it. nice.

We have only been here two days and the jet lag was just killing us but we are just about over that and are about to set off up the coast for turanga lake.

Stay Classy San Diego!

The main area to go out in San Diego is called the Gas Lamp District - six blocks of bars, restaurant's and pubs. It is without a doubt the best place either of us has ever been to. The hot temperatures mean that all the bars are open fronted with seating out onto the main street and there are (really accomplished) live bands in every other bar playing every different type of music you can think of from roots americana to jazz, rock to pop (we catch the extremely theatrical 'A flock of 80's' playing on our first night). Similarily there is every type of food there too and best of happy hour is 3pm -7pm every single day - two ice cold beers for five bucks (Two pound fifty). We make our local a place called the bitter end which has glasses from the freezer and plays a steady stream of great indie and rock music.

We couldn't go past this place (above) without going in: 'Jimmy Love's.' We bet he would have loved it too... we had to make the waitress stand out in the middle of fifth avenue and dodge the traffic to take that picture.

I had almost forgotten we were in America but was quickly reminded when we walked past a bar and heard a young college student dressed in baggy shorts and a hoddie introducing himself to a girl. "Hi i'm Lance, i'm Irish."

Just to recap: we are twenty miles from the border of Mexico.

San Diego Zoo

This is the day Sandra has been looking forward to since we set out: San Diego Zoo! Apparantly the world's biggest zoo - it is brilliant. It costs about $30 which includes cable car rides and guided tours and after walking round for five and half hours we still haven't seen everything. The layout seems much humane than British zoo's are there is much more space for the animals (although we didn't see the snake with two heads which was advertised, which come to think of it is probably just to entice naive brits...). Also after two weeks of ordering food that despite being called 'Medium' on the menu would arrive bigger than my entire head it was a relief to get ripped off for tiny inedible pizzas - just like back home.

In the gift shops they have three stalls of keyrings and despite them having one for Jesus they don't have one for Ian or even Quuuaa-ean. Then i remember i don't own the keys to anything anymore.

The sun is baking and san gets really sun burnt. We buy some nifty hats and i get a t-shirt with a picture of a panda on it.

When it is time to go we order a taxi over the phone and another limo turns up. This time it is driven by a young black woman who has two inch manicured finger nails and is wearing massive sunglasses that cover most of her head. "Hi i'm Cindy and i will be your driver today." We both look down at the driver's ID and it reads YOUR DRIVER'S NAME IS DARRELL.

San Diego, Ca part 2

However, what Sandra didn't notice when booking the hotel is that it is directly over the road from the city's block of strip bars. Sadly, she wouldn't let me go in.

We did find a brilliant mcdonalds style place over the road called Jack in the Box' which was staffed entirely by mexicans and made proper burgers which cost about the equivalent of a quid. The best bit was when they tried to pronounce my name when my order was ready: "Quuuaa-ean?"

For the first time on our trip we have found a hotel room that contains no furniture or storage that Sandra can fit into, although i did try to talk her into climbing into a drawer after a few beers but she wouldn't fit.

San Diego, Ca Part one

The journey down to the coast to passes through Compton and Long Beach which you gangster rap fans will know as major gang land areas of L.A, it is slightly disappointing to note that they look a bit like a sunnier version of Digmoor. Out of the city, the journey becomes much more beautiful as the Coast Highway runs along side the magnificent Pacific ocean and the heat begins to rise.

San Diego is absolutely stunning, bright clean and a feeling of real safety. The area has a massive naval base which makes it feel quite conservative and middle class but it also has a huge population of Mexican migrants, students and surfers. The attitude of people seem quite at odds with the rest of the country and it seems much more laid back.

Our hotel is located about ten minutes in a cab from downtown & Sandra picked it for our stay based on the fact that it's name contains elements from both of our surnames.

Los Angeles, CA

We touch down in L.A just in time to see one of the countries domestic airlines go bust. LAX is rammed with disgruntled punters and we take a four dollar cab trip which some enterprising cabbie charges us $17.50 and no, he doesn't have any change. We check into a local Howard Johnston Inn and because of it's small size Sandra face's her biggest challenge yet in fitting into hotel storage units...... but she meets the challenge head on!

We are about eight miles from downtown L.A but as soon as it is dawn you can see the layer of smog hanging above the city. We have been advised to take the 100 odd mile journey down to San Diego as it is much more friendly and cheaper to stay. We ask reception to call us a cab to the bus station which the girl obviously mishears as 'Call us an overpriced Limo with tinted windows and air conditioning' and so we turn up to the greyhound bus station and step out amongst the crackheads and the hobo's on the sidewalk while a man in a suit called Hector carries our baggage into the terminal. Somewhat ominously the guy checking your tickets is wearing an LAPD uniform and is carrying a gun. Apart from one guy who is obviously mentally ill and wearing a golf visor we are the only people who are not mexican on the bus.

Current Reading: Into the Wild by Jon Krakauer. Muhammad Ali: His Life and Times by Thomas Hauser

Current Listening: Films about Ghosts - Counting Crows, The Seldom Seen Kid - Elbow, Once (Soundtrack) - Glen Hansard

Favourite Car Sticker: Jews for Jesus