26 Jan 2007

We're here because we're here...

The in-flight Qantas entertainment represents a vast improvement on that served up by British 'lose your luggage' Airways.

One of the films I watch is the Queen, starring Helen Mirren as Her Maj. It focuses on the period after Diana's death, and how the Royal Family retreats to Balmoral away from a mourning public, and how the newly-elected New Labour government spin machine fills the vacuum left by their aloofness. Prince Philip is portrayed as a heartless bastard, and Alistair Campbell is portrayed as a soulless bastard. Quality viewing! Well, to be a press officer working in a political environment I guess it would be.

We land in Sydney at 8am. Finally, after years of wanting to come here, I land on Australian soil. It takes a while to get through immigration, but they barely so much as look at my passport and don't bother to check any of my belongings. I'm just waived through. After all the form filling and bureaucracy involved in getting my Visa, it comes as something of a surprise to get in this easily. Still, I'm not complaining.

The train from the airport to the centre of Sydney sets me back around six quid (in English money). Note to the parasitic bastards running services like the Gatwick Express - you give a very poor impression to people visiting England. You c*nts. As I board the train, I am amazed to see virtually all passengers decked out in some form of the Australian flag. Have I ventured upon some kind of far-right rally by mistake? Then, as I glance at newspapers are reading on board, it makes sense. It's Australia Day. Great. Fresh from Ashes humiliation, I've arrived on the day of the year when everyone gets pissed and loudly celebrates being the nation that's tonked us 5-0. Or something like that.

The place I'm staying in for my first few days in Sydney is booked up tonight, so I've decided that for one night only I'll give myself a bit of a treat and stay somewhere really nice. I'm in a four star hotel off Darling Harbour, which I managed to get a cheap internet deal on - 50 quid for the night.

Note to pompous travellers who claim you're only keeping it real if you stay in the cheapest, down market hostels - f*ck off. I get really sick and tired of middle class boys spending Daddy's money who trot this line out, and I've come across plenty of them (ok, my parents lent me the money for the flight here, but that's not the point). I saw a couple of 'them' at Tokyo Airport last night clutching a small backpack with about six BO stinking t-shirts in, but strangely enough still able to bring acoustic guitatrs with them so they can doubtless spend their evenings playing James Blunt covers to other middle class travellers whilst exhorting the qualities of David Cameron (maybe). Do one!

I grab a couple of hours kip, then head down to Sydney Harbour Bridge to take in the day's celebrations. When in Rome etc. It's generally a good natured, family crowd with live music and entertainment. I am just captivated by the scenery, the glorious weather and the happiness of having turned what started as an idea a few months ago into a reality. I think I'm going to like this city.

Australia are playing England in a one-dayer today in Adelaide. I find a bar away from the crowds to watch the action, hoping that my fears of coming out here to witness further humiliation will fear misplaced - that Freddie's Lions will rise like a phoenix from the Ashes (no pun intended ho ho ho) and spare me the ignominy of watching another abject display on my first day in Australia. The score as I look up at the screen having entered the bar? England 110 all out. I look around, expecting to see laughing local faces and hear Pommie baiting taunts. Nothing. Nobody cares. The Aussies obviously stopped treating a meeting with us as a serious encounter some time ago. I finish my drink and head back to the hotel.

There were fears that this Australia Day could lead to an escalation in the racial tensions between native Sydneysiders and Muslim Lebanese immigrants, which famously caused riots here two years ago. As I pop into one of the scores of convenience stores that line Sydney's streets on my back, that are almost exclusively staffed by immigrants, I fear this too when I see the leary way several young locals go about ordering cigarettes. Hopefully it's just too much beer in the sun, I think. Reports the next day pretty much confirm this - the night passes without incident and is judged a success.

I finally go to bed at midnight, feeling very happy to be here. I've only seen parts of the city, but it seems a great place. Tomorrow is forecast to be 32 degrees. I fall asleep a happy man.

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