Sweet 21

The view as you come out of my front door

Well, the shittest election in the history of democracy is over and - as predicted - Labor comfortably wins a fourth term in office in New South Wales.

The election actually turns out to be even more boring than I had anticipated. The Liberals fail to win a single seat off Labor - not even one! - and so the 2007 result ends up being virtually identical to the one in 2003. I'm not complaining about the result, it would just have been nice to have a bit more entertainment...

On Sunday I went to a birthday party in Marrickville, a suburb in Sydney's inner west - the most alternative, laid back and almost Camden-esque part of the city. Everyone there is either gay, a trade unionist or Labor Party activist (most are all three) and so the election is discussed at some length. The overall feeling is one of relief that the "Liberal scum" have not got in. Not that they ever do. This was the 21st consecutive victory in just under ten years that the Australian Labor Party has enjoyed over the right wing Liberal Party in state elections across the country. The twenty first on the trot.

That, almost incredibly, is not nearly enough to satisfy Labor supporters. It is the Federal Government they crave - and elections to it are expected within six months. Victory in that would give Labor control of every tier of government in Australia for the first time in the country's history.

As the beer flows at the party and politics continues to be the main topic of conversation, not for the first time during my stay in Australia I find myself asked about Anthony Charles Lynton Blair. The fucker does seem to be genuinely liked here! Or, at least, revered.

"I know if I was British and a Labour supporter I'd be pissed off about Iraq, but you can't argue with what he's done since in office," is the general gist.

You could debate forever any long-serving PM's record in office, so I opt to summarise (not least cos I had been drinking heavily)...

"Well, in lots of respects Blair has been a disappointment. But one thing I will always be grateful for is the 1997 election."

Before I can go on to explain that this was the historic occasion when Labour ended 18 years of Tory rule and how pissed I got to celebrate it, I am interrupted by a flurry of Australian recollections from that night...

"Oh, that election was fucking fantastic! I've downloaded Portillo losing off youtube!"

"The most gratifying election there has ever been"

"Simply the best. The only party that will better it will be after Thatcher's death"

All of the above are genuine comments from Australians. I don't know about you, but I don't recall celebrating many of their election results!

Most of the political chat takes place during cigarette breaks whilst in the party itself episodes of Little Britain, the Catherine Tait show and other Brit comedies are played. I find it strange, although also comfortable, to be on the other side of the world and yet in such culturally similar surroundings. How could any British person get homesick at this kind of party?!!

sea, surf, shit scared

The weather has started to become more unpredictable of late, which is hardly surprising given that summer officially ended a month ago.

Saturday was, however, a beautifully warm day. One of the unquestionable advantages Sydney has is its coastal location - there is no requirement to suffer an unreliable train journey to get to a decent beach.

Bondi Beach is just two stops on the Cityrail and a walk from where I live. Given how hot it was on Saturday, I feared the place would be rammed, but it was nowhere near as bad as I expected.

As I wandered along the beach past the hundreds of people sun bathing, swimming, surfing, paddling, relaxing and playing sports, I couldn't help but think how lucky Aussies are. The vast majority of Australia's 21 million people live on the coast, meaning this kind of lifestyle is perfectly normal for a weekend. London is technically a coastal city, but a stroll along the Thames Estuary has never relaxed me in the same way as Bondi for some reason.

The clear blue sea and the famous surf looked particularly appealing on this day. I had yet to enter the sea since being in Australia, which to any sane individual might seem a trifle odd, but I have had a phobia of the sea and - more to the point - sea life for as long as I can remember. Most people dream of doing things like snorkeling at the Great Barrier Reef. I would rather be given a sulphuric acid enema.

There are some very legitimate reasons for being scared of swimming in the sea here. Allow me to give you a little taster.

If you are lucky enough not to be attacked by a shark - this has happened to several surfers since I have been in Australia - there is always the box jellyfish, blue ringed octopus or stonefish on hand to finish you off - all of which are the most deadliest of their kind in the entire world.

Of course, you are unlikely to bump into any of these creatures off the coast of Sydney (although sharks are not far away and there are other unwelcome inhabitants such as the bluebottle, a jellyfish that can give very painful stings).

It just seems such a shame to miss out on the surf and all the fun people are obviously having in the sea. As I walk along the beach, I only see people - of all ages - laughing and enjoying themselves. There is nobody running out of the water screaming because their balls have been stung by a luminous jellyfish.

Fuck it. I'm going in.

So convinced was I that I wouldn't end up in the sea, I didn't bother bringing a towel with me to the beach. I therefore have to shell out $20 (around eight quid) on a new one. Feeling a bit parched, I also decide to have a glass of wine before heading into the water.

I'm just about to finish my drink when the sun disappears behind a menacing black cloud virtually immediately. In the distance I can see rain over the ocean. For fuck's sake. I've just spent $20 on a towel so I can go swimming!

There is no way I'm chickening out now. Not after shelling out 20 bucks! So, despite having gone nowhere near the sea in two entire months out here, despite days spent on glorious beaches in glorious sunshine, it is on an eventually overcast spring day that I end up ripping my t-shirt off and launching myself into the see in true Hasselhof style. And you know what? It's great! The sea is warm - there is clearly very, very little chance of anything causing you harm here in shallow water - and there is something incredibly exhilarating about being thrown all over the place by a gigantic wave.

I find swimming in the sea a bit like shagging girls. Beforehand I have absolutely no desire to do it, if it does eventually happen it's totally unexpected, then I realise it's quite good fun, before very quickly realising I'm bored and leaving earlier than most people would.

Oh and I didn't take any pictures whilst I was at the beach - hence why I've posted one of the main street from the city to my suburb, for no apparent reason.