ADELAIDE DAY TWO

SATURDAY 4th DECEDMBER

  Woke up fairly early and after a coffee (breakfast is extra, and so isn't on the menu), determined how we were going to get to the ground.  Mark reckoned that we should walk, he had done so in both directions yesterday, and he didn't think it was that far.  So that is what we did, the only problem is that my pace of walking is much more leisurely than Mark's who sets a stiff pace.   The setting for the Adelaide Oval is very pretty with the Murray River wending its way past the ground.

 I was abused several times for my laggardly progess, but we eventually arrived at the ground just in time to take our seats just in time for the start of the first over.  Our seats were just one block away from where I sat yesterday.  Tragedy struck with the third ball when England skipper Andrew Strauss shouldered arms to Doug ("The Rug") Bollinger and the ball just clipped the bails.  However after that things improved and England moved serenely on.  It was another sellout day, and the temperature got even hotter than yesterday.  Thankfully Mark had purchased a bottle of sun cream on the way.  We decided it was sensible to forgo the beer until the evening and only partook of soft drinks.  At lunchtime Mark suggested we go to the Clem Hill stand which had cover and see if we could find any empty seats.  He picked some out that nobody claimed for the rest of the day, so we were able to watch the rest of play in much more comfort.

  The day's cricket ended in a very satisfactory way with only Trott being out after had had scored 70 odd and Cooke and Pietersen going strong.  One looks forward to K.P. really going to town tomorrow! There were a couple of buses outside the ground taking members of the Barmy Army back to their H.Q. which was located near our hotel.  Mark managed to nip on but I was too slow, so in the end Mark got off having failed to persuade the bus driver, who reckoned the bus was full, to let me on.  We walked back to the hotel.  It didn't take long to decide to utilise the indoor swimming pool at the hotel. After getting changed Mark investigated the local buses and correctly divined that a bus would be arriving at 8.00pm which took us in the direction of the Kings Hotel, an establishment he felt we should visit.  After a certain amount of walking from the bus stop, past the Christmas tree in Victoria Square, we decided to pause for refreshment at a hostelry we were passing.

  Mark asked the barman if he knew where the Kings Hotel was, but he said he didn't know, asked a barmaid colleague but she didn't know either.  We took our drinks outside as it was a beautifully balmy evening - I reckon the temperature was still pushing 30 degrees.  A cab driver who dropped off his passengers next to where we were sitting, provided Mark with the information that the Kings Hotel was about 100 yards up the road on the opposite side of the road.  "Right, we're not staying here for another drink", Mark pronounced tersely,  "Those ******** knew exactly where the Kings Hotel is, they just thought that we would carry on drinking here if they didn't tell us".  So we duly moved up the road to the Kings Hotel which is allegedly Adelaide's oldest pub.  There we ate our evening meal, my first meal of the day.  The calamari wasn't bad at all and Mark enjoyed his snitchzel.  We then made a dash for a tram, but it didn't stop, as the stop was on the other side of the traffic lights.  However a cab came round the corner which Mark promptly hailed and told him where we wanted to go.  We alighted at Griffins where we again sat outside consuming our beers watching the local talent pass by.

  I believe all told we visited eight establisments.  Not necessarily in chronological order, we visited the Elephant - an English pub that sold some English beers in addition to all the Aussie ones.  A band were playing upstairs.  Mark went to explore but apparently the entrance door was locked.  By the time we decided to leave there was a queue formed outside awaiting admission.  The Crown & Anchor provided us with some free entertainment.  Again we sat outside, taking the last empty table.  There were notices on the wall stating that standing was forbidden, you had to sit down.  A group of three chaps and a girl with a very inebriated chap asked if they could sit down at the remaining two chairs.  We said of course they could.  However this still left two standing, and in no time Security were on hand ordering them to sit down.  Somehow a couple more chairs appeared.  But the state of one member of the party was not to Security's liking.  He said he had to go.  The girl interceded on his behalf stating that they would just finish their drinks and then get him a cab home.  The girl, then explained that they had been to the company Christmas do, and her friend who had a wife with a young disabled child didn't get out much, had over done it a bit.  Bobbie, as her name turned out to be,  and an extremely attractive young lady wearing her little black mini dress, apparently had two children aged 9 and 7.  She certainly didn't look old enough to have children of that age.  Mark asked her husband Jason what was the best pub in town.  He replied that they didn't get out much because they had two offspring, which is how we learnt of the children.  Bobbie who confessed that they had been drinking for some time, progressively got more aggresive about Security.  She then admitted that she was very good at head butting, and having a problem with Security, started threatening to take him out with her refined technique.  She would then continually apologise for the language she used to describe Security!  Another brush with Security, which didn't result in violence, did however result in the inebriated member of the party being led away by one of his friends in search of a cab.  Not long afterwards we bade Bobbie and Jason a Happy Christmas and departed in search of another pub.

  Our final port of call turned out to be the Stag.  But on getting there we found that there were bouncers on the door and two queues were formed for people waiting to be admitted.  One was for VIP's and the other for plebs.   Mark walked up to one of the bouncers and told him that we had been drinking there all evening and had only gone for a meal.  He had checked with a member of staff before leaving that we could get back in when we returned.  The bouncer called in somebody more senior to whom Mark repeated the tale.  The net outcome was that we were waved in past the queue of waiting VIP's.  Looking around with drink in hand we concurred that I was the oldest person in the establishment, but Mark was probably the second eldest! From there we decided to look in at P.J. O'Briens (the Barmy Army H.Q.) but were tempted to pop into the Oyster Bar enroute for a quick one.  The final port of call was P.J.'s and then it was across the park to the Royal Coach Hotel, in time for Mark to catch Chelsea v Everton, although he fell asleep just before Everton's late equalising goal.  I did not even make an attempt to watch the game, being more than ready to call it a night!