The view from the apartment

Well folks,

It took us a few weeks and after going a wee bit 'rental mental' we found ourselves a modest wee apartment in the heart of Brisbane city.

The apartment may be modest but the view, as you can see from the pic above, most definitely is not. Just across the Brisbane river, you can see the skyscrapers of Brisbane's Central Business District (CBD).

To the right of the pic, you can see the impressive Story Bridge dominate the skyline. It may not be Sydney Harbour but it's more than enough to please this country fella.

Yep - I'm deifnitely in Australia!

Pulling an Aussie Bird...

Taken from a recent camping trip to Moreton Island, just off SE Queensland.

Whilst trying (unsuccessfully) to fish for flathead fish, this friendly pelican came over for a wee nosey. And some free grub.

And I was only too happy to oblige.

The trip was a welcome respite from the bustle of the city and although we didn't catch any fish, we saw dolphins, stingrays, kookaburras, lizards and snakes.

And of course, managed to sink a few XXXX along the way.

I could used to this lifestyle...

The Traveller Returns Home – Part 1

(Rock Werchter 2007 - yes, we looked that good!)

G’Day Folks!

Greetings once again from back on the far side of the world, The Sunshine Coast, Queensland, Australia.

Before I go any further, I’d like to thank those people that had so much positive things to say about my column; and some of you weren’t even related to me! (You know who you are) It is great to hear (and quite humbling) that some people back home are getting a little enjoyment from my amateurish attempts to be a writer.

Now some of you may already know that I, along with my girlfriend Krissy, have been on a little bit of an extended vacation for the past few weeks (hence the lack of activity on the weekly column!)

For four weeks, we took in the delights that Belgium, Amsterdam, Taipei and of course, my – as well as your - beautiful homeland had to offer.

Presently, after just over a week back Down Under, things have calmed down enough for me to get reacquainted with the intimidating, flashing cursor on my laptop screen as my words chase it across the empty, unforgiving, white blankness.

So here it is - as I offer a (hopefully) brief synopsis of the past few weeks. Although I do feel a two-part series in the making…

Saturday, 23rd June, the night before departing Brisbane, it was a very excited couple that packed their backpacks in preparation for the journey. Even Krissy’s mother got involved in all the excitement as she frantically washed and dried clothes that we simply couldn’t travel without.

Many items that, of which it has to be said, were not employed throughout our trip at all; the unnecessary extra baggage something that I was to curse as we ran through Amsterdam train station frantically trying to get to the airport on time.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

With backpacks packed, we cracked open a bottle of red and toasted our upcoming vacation and spent the rest of the evening excitedly talking about all the things we had planned.

And there was plenty to talk about.

The following four weeks would see us firstly spend eight days back in Belgium, where we were to hang out with some of my closest friends and go to the annual Rock Werchter festival, the barn-storming five-day event which sees upwards of 90,000 sweaty Belgians – with a few foreigners thrown in as well - in a field watching some of the biggest bands on the planet.

Apart from it being the finest music event that I have ever experienced and something that I have enjoyed for the last 6 years, it is also important to me for a couple of other reasons.

Firstly, my birthday always falls at the same time of the year. This year’s ‘celebration’ was to bring me to the halfway of my biblically-allotted time on God’s Green Earth at one score, fifteen years young.

Secondly, the festival was where Krissy and I had met the previous year and a lot has happened in those intervening twelve months, not least of all of course, my departure from Europe for the Southern Hemisphere to live on the other side of the world with her. So it was our first anniversary of sorts. Bless.

After that, we were heading across to spend twelve days in Northern Ireland, quite possibly the longest period of time that I have spent home in the past 10 years.

Our time there was to be spent hanging out with my lovely family, to do some sight-seeing and of course to take part in the Twelfth of July celebrations - bonfire, parade, the whole nine yards.

This has always been a hugely important event for my father’s side of the family - especially seeing as he shares his birthday with it. Or it shares his birthday depending on who you listen to. As a kid I used to listen to him but now that I’ve all grown up I know a lot of what my dad says has to be taken with a huge pinch of salt!

Following that, we were to spend two nights in ‘Amsterdamage’ and then break up the long trip back to Australia with a 24 hour stop-over in Taipei, before arriving back in Brisbane International airport at nine am on Friday 20th July.

After working hard in the weeks leading up to our trip to ensure that our desks were cleared we were more than ready for the vacation. However, the work offered some welcome distraction as I deliberately gave the trip scant thought as the months slowly turned to weeks turned to days leading up to our departure.

As the date loomed ever closer and with us having stayed in on many an occasion to save up our measly Aussie dollars to survive a month in Euro and Pound land, I can honestly say that the excitement became almost overwhelming that Saturday night. Of course it could have been the red wine – a particularly fruity number, priced at around a whole three pounds.

But now, NOW, the trip was most definitely on. Needless to say, we didn’t sleep too well that night. Even with the wine in our system.

**

For anyone that hasn’t realised already, Australia is a long, long, LONG way from Ballyclare but I don’t think even I appreciated just how far I was from home.

The first leg of our trip – a monstrous forty-one hour door to door trip involving planes, trains and automobiles soon put paid to that; and that was only to get me as close to home as Antwerp. Ballyclare would have to wait for another few days.

I would just like to say now to the people of Ballyclare that Belgium really is a fantastic country - definitely not the boring place that I imagined it to be before my career choice unexpectedly took me there. (And no – I’m not on commission!)

Any country that offers a colourful history with grand and glorious architecture, fantastic restaurants on every corner, enough clothes shops to keep even the most fashion conscious interested and – ahem 24-hour drinking – is a country that most definitely gets my vote.

On top of this, in my experience the Belgians are wonderful people – very modest, humble and extremely laid back but with a wicked sense of humour thrown in for good measure. I look back at my seven years spent there with very fond memories. Needless to say, I was extremely excited to get back in amongst my old stomping ground.

So, after dropping our luggage off at our friends’ house in the centre of Antwerp, jumping into a quick but much needed shower, there was only place for us to go to start our vacation, my ‘local’ in the city, Café Old Trafford.

Being a Liverpool supporter, I made a promise to myself to never, ever drink in the place but after being coerced by a drinking partner a couple of years ago, I’ve never looked back; except for the rare time that Liverpool beat ManYoo.

I met some of the loveliest people on the planet in that place - and not all of them even supported ManYoo.

Getting into the bar around two in the afternoon, we were proudly shown the refurbishment work that had taken place in the bar in my absence (in no small part funded by myself I’m sure) by the owners, an English guy called Gerald and his lovely Flemish wife, Gisele, who are affectionately known to the customers as the ‘G-Team.’

The bar – painted Man United red of course – is awash with all sorts of football-related memorabilia, with much of it unfortunately of the Man United flavour. But I’m also pleased to report that a whole wall is dedicated to our favourite son, George Best.

On the “George Best Wall” there are many items that have been contributed by the two proud members of the Green and White Army that frequent the place - my mate from Newtownards who has lived in Antwerp for 13 years and of course yours truly.

These range from Northern Ireland flags, scarves and pictures of the Great Man himself, one of which was supplied by my mum, as well as a Ballyclare Comrades pennant that I crow-barred onto the wall before I left. I was pleasantly surprised to see a wee photo of me outside Sydney Opera House had magically joined my much more illustrious compatriot up on the wall as well.

The afternoon continued in high spirits and it is not without a certain amount of embarrassment that I inform you that I soon fell to the evils of jet-lag. Or could it have been my emotional and enthusiastic reunion with my Belgian girlfriend, Stella Artois?

Either way, this soon-to-be-35-year-old Ballyclarian was walked - or as she likes to put it, carried, home at ten in the evening mid-party by his younger (and a lot more sober) Aussie girlfriend.

A couple of days later, after catching up with some of our other friends in similar drunken environments it soon came the turn of the Rock Werchter festival.

You’ll be pleased to hear that I won’t bore you with most of the gory details (and believe me, there are many) from those five days. Suffice to say that we had a great time, getting our freak on to such luminaries from the music world as Pearl Jam, The Beastie Boys, The Killers, The Kaiser Chiefs, The Chemical Brothers, Faithless, Queens of the Stone Age, Muse and Metallica.

However, the highlight of the weekend had to be the time spent enjoying the performance from our fellow country-men, Snow Patrol. Your two proud ambassadors from our wee country put on our “wee Norn Iron Taps” and brought our “wee flegs” to the festival especially for this performance.

And don’t Snow Patrol know it.

Bedecked in our green, we, along with our very understanding female companions, wormed our way through the masses to take our – as we thought rightful - place at the front to welcome “Our Band” on stage.

As soon as they appeared on stage, the flags went up and the two of us guldered the way only people from home can to welcome them into the festival.

There was no escaping us as Gary Lightbody and the boys took to the stage. Lord knows what they, or the Belgians, made of it all but I have subsequently heard that we made it onto Belgian National TV. The gospel of Our Wee Country spreads proudly throughout the world!

The only thing that would have been better was if our very own Andy Cairns and his band Therapy? had performed as well. Incidentally, Therapy? have performed at Rock Werchter more times than anyone else – a record that they share with REM, no less.

The day after the festival, we had to take our fragile, rock-festival-abused bodies, straining under the weight of our backpacks by train from Antwerp to Schiphol Airport, near Amsterdam.

According to my itinerary, the flight left at 13:15, so the 10:30 train would have been time enough. However, past travel experiences have taught me that it is always better to allow for the unexpected, so with that in mind we caught the 09:30 train which was to take us directly to Amsterdam airport.

Thanks to technical difficulties, our train was first delayed, and then diverted; we had to change trains twice only to be taken to Amsterdam Central train station instead of the airport.

Arriving into the train station, with the time seconds before midday, we had less than an hour and a quarter before our flight was to leave. So, with trains leaving every fifteen minutes, we made a mad dash from our platform to the platform where the 12:00 train was only seconds from departing.

With my overweight backpack slowing me down, it was touch and go getting on the train with the automatic doors almost closing on my backpack as the train departed. Breathing heavily, but relieved nonetheless, we made the short trip to the airport and arrived with 25 minutes until check-in was to close.

Dashing through the airport, we frantically scanned the departure boards to see where we had to check-in. Only to find that there was absolutely no mention of our flight.

Heart sinking, I assumed that we had missed it, so we made a heartbreaking trek to the EasyJet desk to try and arrange a flight home for the following day. When I asked what time the flight to Belfast left, I received a rather confused response from the girl as she explained that the flight didn’t leave until 16:15.

Feeling the death stare of my beloved burning holes in the back of my head, I turned round to face the music which of course, I rightly deserved. Still, at least we hadn’t missed the flight, and so it was that a hung-over, exhausted couple retired to the bar to pass almost 4 hours of time before I was to finally head home.

The trip to the centre of the universe that is Ballyclare was back on!
Please bear with me as next week I recount the tale of my long awaited trip home. Thanks for listening.

God Save Our Gracious Sheila

Hello again folks,

With the time gone 5pm I'm starting to get the Friday Buzz, so just a few short words before the weekend can begin in earnest and I head off to the pub.

In 9 days time I leave the Land of Oz and make my way back up to the Northern Hemisphere on a trip that will involve Taipei, Amsterdam, Antwerp, Rock Werchter Festival and last - but by no means least, Northern Ireland.

Yep - I'm heading home for a long overdue trip.

It's difficult to get too excited about the trip just yet because of all the work that I have on at the moment but the light at the end of the tunnel is definitely starting to glow.

Apart from work to keep me distracted, there was also the long weekend that we just had in Australia. The reason? Nonbe other than the Queen's Birthday. Except it wasn't the Queen's birthday at all. Apparently Australia just has a day off a year to celebrate it. Auch, sure you've gotta love these colonials.

The long weekend turned out to be a big event in itself with my first ever stag day/night in Australia. The Aussie blokes didn't disappoint with fishing / a game of cricket / pool tournament and of course alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol, including dentist chair drinking games...

Later that night I got up on stage in a packed Irish Bar to do my terrible, TERRIBLE Michael Flatley Riverdance impersonation. I know I was shite but the Aussies LOVED it! The band stopped playing, the spot light was put on me and the 2-300 people in the place cheered my every move. First time I've done something like that since I came to Belgium, so I guess I must be finding my feet down here.

The Sunday was another highly enjoyable evening, spent at the house of friends in the trendy West End suburb of Brisbane.

Krissy and I are currently looking for somehwere to live in Brisbane - just a short 3-month rental somewhere close to the city. As beautiful as it undoubtedly is, we're going a little STIR CRAZY up on the Sunshine Coast!

This weekend sees the actual wedding, although becuase it is on a Sunday evening, things can't get too out of hand (he says with tongue planted firmly in cheek).

BRING IT ON!!

A Time for Reflection...

G’Day Folks!

I’m pleased to report that this week’s instalment comes to you with the rain hammering off the thin windows of my room at the Redland Bay Motel. Another exciting development over the past few days is that I’ve managed to acquire a rather alarming, but no less spectacular, chesty cough.

I even had to wear a cardigan to the pub this evening, where I spent the time over my two schooners of Castlemaine XXXX Bitter watching the rain bounce of the sun scorched beer-garden like bullets off a super-hero.

Yes folks, the weather has taken a turn for the worse Down Under and more rain is predicted over the coming days. The wettest June on record has even been spoken about, albeit in hopeful whispers and it has to be said that the locals are quite made up about it.

Crikey, but things aren’t half different this side of the planet.

Unfortunately, I can’t share in the collective enthusiasm of those around me as they celebrate the upcoming downpours, for you see, I’ve got a bigger fish to fry.

And that fish comes in the form of my much anticipated trip back home. Exactly one month from now, all being well, I will be landing at Aldegrove Airport and quite frankly, I’m just a little concerned.

I have just spent the early part of this evening sitting outside in temperatures of 18 degrees wearing a cardigan – the one and only item of clothing that I jokingly brought with me as a concession to when things might get “just a wee bit chilly” – and I was never so thankful for having an extra layer of clothing since moving down here.

So what has become of me? Have the ambient temperatures of Australia turned me into a big girl’s blouse? 18 degrees in an early Ballyclare evening would be considered quite balmy – even with the rain - and yet here I am zipping up my cardie to protect myself against the ‘elements’. Thank God I’m returning to the warm bosom of my friends and family is all I can say.

I’m reminded of a guy that I used to play football with during my time in Belgium; 6’4” and full of muscles (unlike the guy in the song from Brussels he is from Essex.) After spending 8 months in the Caribbean on a lucrative contract, he returned to Belgium complaining of the cold, even going so far as to wear a fleece top whilst playing football. Indoor Football.

Could it really be that I’ve wimped out as much as this? Only time will tell and that time is very almost upon me. How exciting is that? OK – perhaps not for most of you reading these words but for me – I’m PUMPED (to use the local vernacular) to be heading back home, if only for a few days.

Not only is today a landmark in that it sees me 4 short weeks from home but it is also exactly 7 months since I arrived in Australia. 7 months, since I left the safety blanket of a world that I was familiar with - a world where, even if working and living outside of Northern Ireland – I was never more than a short hop by plane from home.

So what of the last 7 months? What has the Australian experience been like so far for me? I hope you’ll forgive me the wee indulgence of some time (and Ballyclare Gazette space) for some contemplation…

During my time here, I’ve experienced many things - some of them good, some of them bad.

I’ve moved in with Krissy, the love of my life – a girl that I barely knew before moving here it has to be said - but someone with whom I feel complete (as cliché and corny as that sounds). I’ve been adopted by her family and friends and in spite of all the problems that that might have caused for all concerned, we’re all still on speaking terms, which is an achievement in itself.

I’ve stroked koalas and watched kangaroos in their natural habitat, I’ve been woken by dingoes during the night whilst camped in the middle of a rainforest and then been woken by the crazy laugh of the kookaburra, before promptly driving my potential father-in-law’s car into the middle of a sand dune and burnt its clutch, leaving us stranded for days.

I’ve experienced the delights of The Gold Coast, Brisbane, The Sunshine Coast and its surrounds and stood completely in awe as I surveyed that most iconic of landscapes, Sydney Harbour. Sydney also provided me with the opportunity to spend time with my lovely cousin Janette and her fantastic family as I was treated to some fine Northern Irish hospitality (is there any finer?), that had me hankering – not for the last time - for the shores of home.

I’ve struggled with living on a budget and without a job, without a right to even get a job, and watched as my girlfriend went back to gainful employment, as I trawled the internet looking for a position with a company who was prepared to deal with the extra baggage of sorting me out with a visa.

Thankfully, this period did not last too long and my new career has had me experiencing the delights of sugar factories in the middle of “whoop whoop” and chicken slaughterhouses at the end of a 2 hour commute. A job that I am enjoying as difficult as it can be at times and let’s not forget - a job that has provided me with the cash to make it back home in time enough for the family to still recognise me and to join in the Twelfth of July celebrations.

The job also provided me with an opportunity to develop my knowledge in my chosen field of expertise with all the challenges it throws at me and it has taken me to Melbourne to increase my knowledge further by way of some specialised training.

My time in Melbourne was worthy of an article in its own, because apart from the training course, it also provided ‘killer’ paintball, a bachelors barbeque, uninvited appearances at birthday parties and ten-pin bowling with a guy called Healy who would have had the GAWA almost as excited as our very own Healy gets us. Not to mention the introduction to a local cuisine called Chicken Parma. Believe me – it has to be tasted to be appreciated.

All this was by way of a friendship with a friend of Krissy - a lovely guy from Middlesbrough named Phil. A guy who along with his girlfriend Helen, spent the last few fun-filled days with us here in the Sunshine Coast and a guy who I wish lived a lot closer.

For you see, it’s been somewhat difficult to make friends of my own down here and that, it has to be said has been a bit of a surprise for me. Having lived away from home since the age of 19, it’s been a given that I would have to fend for myself and with that territory also comes the fact that I’m going to have to get out there and meet people.

The people back home in Ballyclare - and Northern Ireland as a whole - are a friendly lot and to be honest, you’re a hard act to follow.

Don’t get me wrong, Australians are great fun-loving people and I’m enjoying the experience of being in amongst them but – of course there was a but - it’s not home, it’s not family, it’s not friends from back home and I’m really, really looking forward to being back in amongst the people that I love most on God’s, green earth.

The Old Trafford Bar in Antwerp, with all its delusional ManYoo supporting clientele, the Rock Festival at Werchter with my closest friends in Belgium, the delights of Amsterdam and Taipei and beyond are all coming up on this trip and as much as I’m looking forward to all of these (and believe me I am) the days to be spent in Ballyclare are easily the highlight of the trip.

The kitchen session at mother’s, the Back Bar Session at the Ballyboe with my father and brothers and all the usual suspects, the Twelfth of July and seeing all the people that I love on the parade, both walking and watching are all the things that keep me awake at night with excitement.

Which I can tell you, is a helluva lot better than being kept asleep by the thoughts of cockroaches sharing my motel bed,.

Good night and God Bless. I’ll see you all soon!

(Feel free to get in touch – you can email me at JonnyBlackDownUnder@gmail.com)

Beastie Boys - Ozzie Style!

G’Day Folks!

I hear the weather has been fantastic back up in the northern hemisphere and I’m sure you’re all looking forward to the onset of summer. Spare a thought for us poor people who find themselves on the other side of the world as we head into the winter season.

With daylight saving been and gone, the days are getting shorter meaning that darkness now arrives around five in the evening. Even in the height of summer the days are remarkably short, with daylight not lasting much past seven, which is certainly something that I wasn’t prepared for.

It seems that the prospect of long, balmy evenings round the pool, on the beach or at the barbie that I had envisioned was just that – a figment of my imagination.

This week’s instalment comes at you from an altogether different locale, having been sent to a place called Mackay, located on the coast of eastern Queensland, a thousand kilometres north of Brisbane.

You’re never sure what the glamorous world of being an IT-nerd will throw at you next and as if I hadn’t been spoiled enough by being sent on an assignment working for a chicken slaughterhouse, I now find myself working for a sugar manufacturer in the middle of nowhere for the next couple of days.

Mackay itself is a fairly large-sized town, with a population of over 80,000 people but where I am typing these words is about 20 minutes outside of the town limits in an area that Australians would refer to as “Whoop Whoop.” I really am out in the sticks.

I’m staying in a house on the grounds of the sugar mill and I don’t think I’ve ever been aware of being in such a remote place in my life. Even Buckna has more life about it.

Yes – the town of Mackay may be just up the road, but there is nothing here to keep me company other than the vast hulks of machinery silhouetted against the starlit sky and some very, very bizarre noises in the night. Oh – and a couple of fellow consultants who I am sharing this house with.

Apparently we are right beside the river. I say apparently because thanks to the darkness, it’s difficult to see.

There’s no doubt it’s certainly better than staying in a faceless hotel or motel on my own. We have our own living space, kitchen, laundry facilities, etc. but these noises have got me worried. I’ve just come in from the veranda from having a beer to chill out after my travels but rather than chilling out, I now feel the icy fingers of fear caressing my spine.

This is an alien country to me and I am reminded of that time and time again and in many different situations - the scenery, the people, the weather, the huge cars, the long, lonely drives along endless motorways, the drunken phone calls in the small hours of the morning from family members (and you know who you are) all serve as constant reminders as to just how far away I am from home.

But sitting out there, just a few minutes ago, I listened to a soundtrack of the night that is beyond comprehension for this wee fella from Ballyclare.

Some of the noises are explainable, such as the calls of nocturnal birds or the sounds of crickets playing their staccato beat into the night air, or the click-click sound of geckos (that I now recognise after having lived here for a while)

But other noises are most definitely not.

Take, for example, the rustles in the nearby bushes, rustles being made by creatures of substantial enough size to break branches and snap twigs. Or the hum and buzz of insects, their grossly over-sized shadows dancing before me as they fly close by my ear. At least one of these insects, I know for definite was a cockroach of about 2 inches in length.

Knowing this fact does not set my mind any more at ease.

So what of the other noises? The scratches, the calls, the indecipherable grunts? Let’s just ponder on that for a moment, shall we?

Well, we all know that Australia is a big place, with a wide and varied animal kingdom that is often totally unique to God’s Green Earth. The like of which are the stuff of books, television, movies and zoos, especially for a guy that hails from Ballyclare.

So what could be out there in the vast, black, empty, unforgiving and total darkness of night in Whoop Whoop, Australia?

After a bit of research, it seems that having travelled a thousand kilometres north towards north eastern Queensland has only further heightened the chances of whatever is out there as being something that I wouldn’t want to meet on a dark night, in the middle of nowhere - which of course is where I now find myself.

Perhaps here are a few contenders:

Well thanks to the fact that we are close to a river, and are also near to the north east Queensland coast, we could have a few members of the Saltwater Crocodile family, the world's largest reptile, living nearby. These creatures are found on the northern coast of Australia and inland for up to 100 kms or more. The Saltwater Crocodile has been reported to grow to lengths of 7 metres.

Moving not so swiftly on to the spiders…

The Red Back Spider is Australia's most well known deadly spider. They are found all over Australia, and are common in urban areas, which should hopefully mean that I’m ok out here but you never know; there was a spider out there earlier with a similar bulbous body to that of the Red Back. It was too dark to determine if its back was red and to be honest, I didn’t hang around.

Funnel-web spiders, one of the most notorious members of our spider fauna, are found only in eastern Australia. There are at least 40 species of these medium to large spiders, varying from 1-5 cm body length. Not all species are known to be dangerous, but several are renowned for their highly toxic and fast acting venom.

And then of course there are the snakes…

The brown snake is approximately 1.5 metres long, and is one of Australia's more deadly creatures. They have venom which can cause death to humans relatively quickly if left untreated. Brown snakes up to 2.3 metres have been recorded in Australia. They feed on small creatures, such as mice and rats, small birds, lizards or even other snakes. These snakes are found in Eastern Australia.

The common tiger snake is found in southern and eastern Australia. They are usually around a metre long, and have a striped marking (hence the name Tiger Snake). They can grow up to 1.5 metres in length. These are venomous snakes, and will attack if they are disturbed or threatened.

The paralysis tick is found in forests and bushland along the east coast of Australia. It produces a venom in its salivary glands that can cause numbness in humans around the spot where the tick has attached. The venom can be fatal to babies and small animals.

Then there is the humble cane toad. These were introduced to this region with disastrous consequences. Originally brought in to Australia to deal with the sugar cane beetle, which was destroying sugar crops, the population has risen to epidemic proportions. The situation is so bad that locals are being actively encouraged to kill them when they see them, with many people choosing running over the toads in their cars as the preferred method.

They have poison on their backs which proves fatal for animals that get in contact with it. Many a playful and intrigued pet dog has met its maker thanks to these critters, although it would have to be one dumb human to go in the same manner.

It’s just as well that I don’t have sea creatures to worry about, what with great white sharks, dogfish and the blue ring octopus that are lurking there waiting for some tasty, Northern Irish meat.
But none of these creatures, deadly as they may be, are a patch on the last two that I’m going to tell you about – and they’re both types of jellyfish, which again, I’m fairly sure I’ll not need to worry about, located where I am.

The Irukandji jellyfish inhabits Northern Australian waters and is a deadly jellyfish and is made all the more worrisome considering it is only 2.5 centimetres in diameter, making it very hard to spot in the water.

It is a species of jellyfish that has become apparent only in recent years, thanks mainly due to the unexpected deaths of swimmers.

The good news doesn’t stop there. Apparently, thanks to global warming, they’re moving southwards in this direction.

And last but not least, the Box Jellyfish (also known as a Sea Wasp) which has extreme toxins present on its tentacles, which when in contact with a human, can stop cardio-respiratory functions in as little as three minutes. This jellyfish is responsible for more deaths in Australian than Snakes, Sharks and Salt Water Crocodiles. Which I’m sure means that he gets all the bad boy groupies at the local disco.

But of course, I don’t want to be (and most definitely shouldn’t be) alarmist here. I do after all need a good night’s sleep tonight.

The noises that I hear could be something as innocent as a koala, although seeing as they sleep for 23 hours a day, it’s improbable. Or it could be a kangaroo bounding gracefully across the hinterland, although seeing as the hinterland is further inland; the kangaroo would have to be very lost. Or even a cute and cuddly possum for that matter.

But considering my girlfriend’s recent encounter with a possum I’m not sure I’d be any happier with possums in my vicinity.

And I’ll leave you with this one – although I’m pretty sure she won’t be happy I’ve shared it with you. Let’s just keep it our secret, shall we?

Sitting in the early evening with friends, enjoying an outdoor picnic by the sea, she was surprised to feel warm liquid fall on her head. Looking up, her surprise turned to abject horror as she realised that a possum was urinating on her from above.

She let out a scream (Krissy – not the possum), which in turn frightened the poor possum into expelling more liquid from his overworked bladder into her open, screaming mouth.

I can only assume her abject horror was replaced by a bout of nausea, the likes of which I don’t even want to comprehend....

And that’s it – I’m off to bed. Night night – and don’t let the bed bugs bite.

And the spiders, the snakes, and the….

Doing the Rain Dance Down Under

G’Day Folks!

I trust you’re all in fine fettle back up there in the northern hemisphere?

I’m back at the keyboard after a week’s absence. Over the past few days, the workload has increased considerably and to be honest, coupled with the hours spent in the car on the commute, the last thing I have felt like doing is spending more time staring at the screen, hoping for the creative juices to flow.

But I’m back now and I’m raring to go. So, as they say, on with the show!

I never thought I’d hear myself saying the words “I wish it would rain” but sure enough, I find myself increasingly engaged in these conversations with some of the locals down here.

Now don’t get me wrong – it’s not because I’ve had enough of, or don’t like the glorious sunshine that this part of the world basks in because in fact, I enjoy it immensely. I thrive in the good weather and the bronzed Adonis that I’m sure lurks within this Joe Average from Norn Iron is surely to make his grand appearance anytime soon.

Nor is it because the locals also suffer from that wonderfully British habit of discussing the weather at every opportune moment.

Even now – as Australia heads into its winter months, South Queensland is enjoying clear blue skies with temperatures regularly reaching the mid to high twenties.

But you see folks, that’s just it - too much of a good thing can be a bad thing and the current climate is a fine example of just that.

Right here in Queensland, amongst other parts of this vast continent, we are in the throes of a severe drought that is threatening to become something of an emergency situation without rain – and plenty of it - some time soon.

Yep, things are getting rather serious around these parts.

In December of 2005, Brisbane water storage levels sat at a measly 35 percent – now they sit at less than 20.

Just a couple of weeks ago, South East Queensland, including the state capital city of Brisbane was put onto Level 5 water restrictions. To put this into perspective the scale only goes as far as Level 8.

Level 5 means that – amongst other things – there are restrictions on using sprinkler systems, washing vehicles, hosing in paved areas, refilling swimming pools and watering lawns (with locals only allowed to bucket 3 afternoons a week.)

The government has set a target of 140 litres personal water use per person per day. Before Level 5, average consumption stood at 198 litres. Now we are down to 160 litres, which is still not good enough.

Any household caught using more than 800 litres a day will have to explain their water use or face a hefty fine.
This is the highest level of water restrictions that Australia – a country that is used to very hot weather - has ever reached with Level 5 last being reached in Melbourne in 1983.
Now obviously this isn’t the sort of problem that we’d experience back home – although I do seem to recall the occasional hosepipe ban after a few hot days, which beggars belief considering the amount of rainfall we get in The Emerald Isle.
Hoping for heavy rainfalls in April, so as to avoid the introduction of level 5 restrictions, Brisbane city had just 3ml of rainfall the whole month, compared with a yearly average of 53 ml. Things are not looking good.
But it doesn’t stop there.
As you can imagine, this has become a huge political issue in the region and the impression that I get is that for the most part, the Australian public is adhering to the government’s “Let’s watch every drop” campaign.
But there’s only so much the public can take.
A public that has been consistently and repeatedly urged by its government to save water at every opportune moment; using such techniques as cutting down shower use by 2 minutes each time, turning off the tap while brushing teeth or reducing the number of clothes washes per week by one.
Recently it transpired that a Brisbane outdoor public swimming pool was losing thousands of litres every day and that the state government building’s air-conditioning was cranked to a chilly 18 degrees, a totally unnecessary waste of water.
Needless to say, people want answers as to why these government failings can happen, especially considering the lengths some people are going to to reduce their personal water usage. For instance, I heard a female caller on the radio the other morning proudly announce to the listening public that her and her husband showered together and then bathed their two young children in the very same shower water.
Now I realise that this sort of behaviour would have been the norm back home a few decades ago. But that was a question of economics - I thought we’d left those times behind us.
Even though the government has seen this coming for almost 20 years, what with the number of people moving to the area increasing coupled with the rainfalls decreasing, they’ve just sat on the problem, secretly praying for rain to arrive.
In a rather surreal twist, one of the reasons that has been bandied about by the government is that it hasn’t been raining in the right places. Can you imagine that? If we used that excuse back home we’d be able to poke more fun at Larne’s expense – except in that case it most definitely does rain in the right place.
An obvious solution is to install household water tanks to catch whatever rainfall that does come but with installations running into anything from two to five thousand dollars – even with the assistance of government grants - it’s a huge expense for a lot of households and even then, the waiting list for these tanks is running into months.
In Brisbane there are controversial plans to introduce the use of recycled water, a prospect that has a lot of people feeling more than a little uncomfortable. In fact it has already been rejected by the people of Toowoomba, an hour south west of Brisbane. Sydney on the other hand, intends to build a desalination plant to convert seawater at the frightening cost of $1.3 billion.
Ironically enough considering its name, The Sunshine Coast where I live and just an hour’s drive north of Brisbane is ok. Apparently our rain falls in the right places.
So surely then, a solution would be to pipe some of the water down from this region to Brisbane. Give our neighbours a helping hand, as it were, to help them through this crisis?
Apparently not.
Driving north along the sunshine coast, to the region which has been earmarked for the building of a dam to help the situation, drivers are constantly shown examples of Love thy Neighbour, Australian style.
“SAY NO TO THE DAM!!” a huge sign screams out at you.
“ECOLOGICALLY and ECONOMICALLY UNVIABLE!!” yells another.
“IT’S OUR WATER!!” is the somewhat petulant message displayed on yet another one.
Of course, even if the locals reneged and stopped to help their mates in strife, building a dam will provide no immediate solution to the crisis. It will be a costly and time-consuming enterprise, the benefits of which will be unable to be enjoyed for 3 to 5 years from now.

So you see folks – living Down Under in the land of perpetual sunshine-filled days isn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.

Next time you look out of your window as the grey skies empty their contents in all the right places (especially Larne) and you pray for the rain, rain to go to Spain – pray a little bit harder and see if you can send it down this way.

In the meantime, I’m off down to the beach for a bit of a rain dance.

Pass me the sunscreen.