Movin', just keep movin'...

Today I finally move out of the whore ridden Kings Cross area and move my stuff up to the new abode in Chatswood.

I also take advantage of next week being my last of freedom for a while and book a flight up the east coast to Byron Bay, where I will stay for five days. This is renowned for being one of the main sun/fun seeking traveller destinations, and has won rave reviews. In other words it will be full of 21-year-old beered up British boys, along with boring couples 'doing the whole travel thing' before they get married and generally being annoying. Without wanting to launch into another tirade, I have to say I find it easier to get on with the locals than my compatriots. I recall not long after I arrived a conversation I had in a bar with a 19-year-old lad from Northampton (no I was not and no I did not, by the way). I asked him his thoughts on Australia...

"Yeah, the weather's wicked mate. Bit hot though. There is one area where the Aussies really fall down though."

"Where's that?"

"Well, there ain't that many McDonalds out here, are there?"

"Well, they have got them and other places like them," I retort in a slightly disconcerted voice.

"I know, but I don't like having to walk so far when I've got me Big Mac fix, man."

For the record, young Glenn is a trainee chef back in England.

Anyway, I'm afraid to say that those who were hoping I would face financial flagellation after the incident with the car yesterday (where I nearly sent the fucker tumbling down a valley) will be disappointed. The young Italian guy from Budget who inspected the car didn't see the scratches and so I got away with it. Hehehe. Perhaps he fancied me and just ignored them in a desperate bid to win my heart...

Or perhaps not.

My beloved Norwich City are in action today against Ch***ea in the FA Cup. As I type this it is 5pm here, but it will only be 6am at home. We're taking 6,000 fans down, including a fair smattering of my family and friends. It does feel slightly odd not to be part of the pre-match build/piss up as normal and the general banter (notice I talk of the socialising element of it all and not about watching the game).

Anyway, I'll get Mum to text me the score. Who knows? At 4am here I could hear of a famous upset and run naked through the Bush singing On the Ball City...