yes we know you're better than us...and...oh god, not bloody artarmon
the olympics
that age old tradition where one country manages quite immensely to go home with more meddles than anyone else put together. usually it's the americans that i channel all my hate towards, but this time it was in fact the aussies. why? well, are you sitting comfortably? then i'll begin...
being a pommy i get a certain amount of abuse anyway, that comes with the package, no extra charge. but being a pom in australia during the olympics is painful in the extreme. for those of you who know anything about australian sports and their attitudes towards sporting achievement, which i didn't until it was forced down my throat, will know that they pump so much money into their athletics that it would be cheaper for us to just step out of the road. as a result they're a tad better at that sort of thing than we are. i have decided to whole heartedly accept this as we really haven't got a leg to stand on, despite the fact that WE WON THE RUGBY WORLD CUP. (thought i'd slip it in there for any aussies reading) still, we didn't do quite as well in the olympics as they did. yes, they beat us in the medal tally, but i thought we did pretty well on the whole. it was always nice to go into the staff room and have a gander at the paper to find the australia had won yet another gold for some category or other. in fact it was usually pointed out for us by one of the oh-so-kind aussies residing in said room. the times i particularly enjoyed were those when ian thorpe had raced home to victory. 'the thorpedo' was how he was often referred to. i'm sure you all saw how he cleaned up in the swimming and pretty much wiped the floor (or should it be the edge of the pool) with everyone else. i was constantly reminded as to how well they were doing and asked if we had any medals yet. it was a blast i can assure you!
this does have a point i promise...
the week after my first trip to sydney i'm whisked off to the city again and taken to the olympic stadium for a day of athletics. it was an inter school comp run by the ISA. as is usual the weather in orange was pretty non-descript, yet in sydney it was boiling hot and beautifuly sunny, and as a result i did get some slight tanning on my face...where my glasses weren't. those panda eyes were some of the best i've ever had and i was subsequently called panda by a couple of the girls for a while. my job at this place was not to judge high jump, or time people, but to check the toilets! yes, i was the change room official for the morning. so exciting...positively dripping with sarcasm. i did get to line judge after lunch which was pretty good, but it was a relatively boring day all in all. in fact the trip down there was more exciting.
phi and i decided that we were going to go to sydney for the weekend before hand and spend the saturday night there. the team were coming down on the sunday night and we said we'd meet them at the hotel, more of a motel really. anyway, phi and i stayed with one of the teachers in her very swish house in sydney and were planning on going out that night. not so, we were so exhausted that we ended up going to bed and had one of the best nights of sleep ever! the shower they had in their bathroom was incredible. i could stretch out my arms and only just touch the sides! thaa sunday we went shopping and went into town for a while. i think that this is where we made our big mistake. we got the train into the city centre and wandered around for a while, then decided that we ought to be getting back. so off we toddle to artarmon on the train. once we get there, we'd been told that it was easy to get back to the house. not so. we walked pretty much to where we were supposed to turn off, but we had no idea at the time where we were going because of the shoddy directions we'd been given. so we walked back to town and got a taxi home. we were both beginning to get ever so slightly panicky, after all the evening was getting on a bit and it was getting darker by the minute. phew says i, how are we going to get to the motel? 15 mins later and we're out of the door and in another taxi...back to artarmon, with our bags. the epic voyage that was our trip to the motel included a train from artarmon to granville, then we had to get a train replacement service to another place, then get a bus to blacktown and to the motel. it took us over 3 hours to do and we got there at about 11! everyone was amazed we'd made it alive. at the beginning of each leg we were both convinced that it wouldn't work and that the next bit would be our last and that we'd be stranded in the middle of nowhere. it was at the point when the first bus driver, a cranky transvestite (we think!) got booked and it was 5 mins before the next bus left that i was sure we were screwed. have you ever heard of a bus driver getting booked? no, i didn't think so. on the next bus there was only us and a couple, who were sitting behind us singing! i think the bus driver thought we were drunk or something, coz we were in hysterics, and giggling madly. it would have been less stressful if we had been drunk! still we got there and then the next day we had to get up at 6 to go off to the atheletics meet...
what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, well we're bloody invincible!
see y'all later
