ADELAIDE DAY FOUR

MONDAY 6th DECEMBER

  For all those who wondered just who Steve Mansell was, well that was my deliberate mistake - and if you believe that you'll believe anything - it was in fact Nigel Mansell hiding under a pseudonym!  Another bus ride to the Oval this morning and we got much closer, only a relatively short walk from the bus stop.  Because of the rain stoppage yesterday, play started at 10.00am this morning.  We were there in plenty of time and managed to get exactly the same seats as yesterday.  England batted on and lost Pietersen relatively quickly but Bell and Prior blasted the total to within 17 runs of England's highest ever score in Australia when Strauss declared.  No wickets fell before lunch, but the afternoon session yielded three wickets, until the umpires took the players off for bad light.  Some ten minutes later the rain came down, but it only lasted about half an hour, and play was resumed at 4.55pm and play was extended until 6.00pm.  Clark and Hussey however played well and denied England further success.  After bowling fome 30 odd overs for two wickets Swan was taken off and Pietersen came on in his place.  In the last over of the day Cook caught Clark at short leg, but the umpire didn't give him out, and then referred the decision to the third umpire.  And yes, he was given out!  Showers and a possible thunder storm are forecast for tomorrow and England have six more wickets to get.  The result is in the hands of the weather.

  Listening to the radio commentary, there is the Bradman end and the cathedral end of the ground,  so named because of the Bradman pavilion at one end,

and the cathedral behind the other end.

We walked across the Murray River and past the Festival Hall, where we have have missed the Guitar Festival, and on back towards the town centre to catch the 174 bus.  A bit of packing in readiness for the morrow, and it's time to go and eat.

We walked past some of our watering holes, such as the Oyster Bar, P.J. O'Briens and the Stag for the last time and eventually found the Belgian Beer Bar where we opted for Roo steaks accompanied by Leffe beer. After half an hour there was still no sign of our meal and Mark was pointedly staring at the waitress.  She eventually came over apologised for the delay and offered us a discount and free chips!  The discount worked out at 30% and the chips were really excellent, so all told it was worth the wait.  For old times sake we popped into the Stagg for a couple of Peronis - this time they tried to charge $14 for the two but Mark was having none of it and we duly got them for the members' price of $12.

ADELAIDE DAY THREE

SUNDAY 5th DECEMBER

  We caught a bus about halfway to the ground and walked the rest of the way. Again we found some empty seats in the Clem Hill Stand which gave us a panoramic view of the ground. There was the early loss of Cook's wicket, however he had amassed 140 odd by that time.  Apparently he has been nicknamed "Chef" because he is better than a Cook!  Another wicket fell when Collingwood was out lbw for 40, but thereafter all went well.  Pietersen reached a blazing 200 getting a standing ovation and Bell batted well again.

Things were looking good at tea time with England having a lead of over 300, but then the threatened rain started falling.

We waited for a while but then decided that more play was unlikely and set off for home.  With some foresight I had brought along my waterproof jacket with me, so I gave my cap to Mark and we headed for home.  Mark set off at a brisk pace, whilst I happily meandered my way home at my own pace, oblivious to the rain.

  After a bit of a rest, we went out to the Royal Hotel that Mark had discovered just down the road, but they had stopped serving food by the time we got there.  So it was a walk to Rundle Street where we finally settled on an Indian Tandoori restaurant.  The food was very good and we managed to just beat the rain in getting back to the hotel.  A relatively early night saw us in bed by about 11.00pm, hoping for good weather on the morrow.

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!

THE 2nd TEST ADELAIDE

FRIDAY 3rd DECEMBER

  I woke up with a bit of a headache following the trip to  Hamley bridge the previous night.  However it was nothing that a coffee wouldn't overcome, and soon I was loading up my suitcase on Steve's trailer and saying goodbye to Scruffy.   We drove down to Gawler where Steve picked up one of his workmen and then called in  at the Australian equivalent of B&Q, where Steve picked up some materials he needed for the day's work.  We arrived at the Royal Coach Motel about 10.00am.

where Steve told me he had once delivered a wheel for Stephen Mansell for the Adelaide Grand Prix.

We deposited my luggage and I told them that my son Mark would be checking in for the two of us later on this morning.  Steve then drove me down to the Adelaide Oval where I arrived shortly after 10.30am.  By the time I arrived at my seat Katich had been run out for nought without facing a ball and Ponting had been caught first ball for a golden duck by Swann off of Anderson.  Even better was to follow when Clarke followed in similar fashion for two.  If only Anderson had held on to a return catch of Mike Hussey, Australia would have been 12-4.  Anyway the day proceeded well for England and by the end of the day Australia were all out for 245.  My seat was just down from the Hill where the Barmy Army were situated, and it was fully exposed to the sun all day with the temperature reaching 35 degrees in the shade,  The only trouble was that I wasn't in the shade! 

I managed to refrain from drinking a single drop of beer all day, although I did invest in a few bottles of cold drinks.   To my left was the Bradman Stand and opposite me was the new West Stand with its shell-like roof.  I waited for the crowd to clear from the ground before following the remnants up the road from the ground.  I was fortunate to spot a taxi stuck in a traffic jam disgorging its passengers in the road close to me and managed to hail the cab and get myself back to the hotel for the princely sum of $7.00.  Upon arriving there I found Mark relaxing in the double bed in our room. Apparently he felt so good on arrival that he walked to the Oval and purchased a ticket on the street for $20.00, considerably less than I had paid for my ticket!  He watched the game and only witnessed one Australian wicket fall, before he eventually decided to return to the hotel.  By the time he got back to the hotel Australia were almost all out! After a shower or two, we moved out into the town, walking through the park until we reached the Stag.  Mark noticed that members got a Peroni beer for $6.00, and inquired how you became a member.  This involved filling in a form,which he did for the two of us.  For the rest of of night every round we bought we were charged $8.00 per beer until we queried it and then our change was adjusted with an apology accompanied by a statement saying that the swipe cards we had been given didn't seem to work properly.  Anyway it saved us a few bob in the end!

THE HAMLEY BRIDGE HOTEL

THURSDAY 2nd DECEMBER
  Not really much to add, today was very much like yesterday. An ideal time to catch up with the blog, but unfortunately there was no wi-fi connection to be had in Stockport. I took Scruffy for a walk up the road when a couple of llamas appeared in a neighbours property.  Whilst making sure he kept his distance, Scruffy gave the llamas a barrage of barking, which the llamas watched with distainful interest.  Unfortunately I didn't have my camera on me to capture this event, and when I returned with camera in hand the llamas were gone.  Yet more heavy rain fell, so the day was a mixture of rain and sunshine.

                                                                       Steve Jones
  In the evening we went to the other pub, namely the Hamley Bridge Hotel.  The place was full of various hirsute gentleman, including a Croatian and an Irish Scotsman.  The latter insisted on buying me a drink which consisted of a large Cointreau poured into a pint of beer.  Naturally I drank it.  He later insisted on buying me yet another drink.  This time there was a spirit in one glass and a beer in the other.  I tossed one into the other and tossed the potion back, only to be told that I shouldhave drunk them separately!  He apparently arrived in Australia in 1966 and had been there ever since.  Steve meantime felt that I should be shown the "pokies" and investing $10 promptly won $50 which covered the cost of our dinner. 

        

The man who would buy me a drink (or two).

OUT IN THE COUNTRY

WEDNESDAY 1st DECEMBER

  I told Steve not to worry about but to carry on with his business, I was quite happy to chill out.  The period coming up to Christmas is the busiest time of year for Steve's business, which in essence is erecting fencing.  Swimming pools have to be fenced off by law and of course everybody wants their pool functional for Christmas.  Steve travels around 2000Km a week and goes as far as 400/500Km to carry out his work.  I remained in charge of Scruffy the guard dog.

  Recently purchased for his son and 11 year old daughter Taylor who stay the weekends with him, Scruffy was so delighted to have company during the week that he literally followed me everywhere.  I nearly tripped over him a couple of times and once accidentally trod on him.  I had to close the toilet door fairly smartly to prevent him following me in there!  I was delighted to be able to have a relaxing bath at long last and thoroughly enjoyed my soak.

  Adjoing the entrance drive to Steve's house is an observatory that does a lot of work fror NASA.  It is a bit of an odd spot to find one, but I guess the clear air and lack of any pollutants make it an ideal spot.

A couple of thunderstorms during the day deposited some 20mm of rain, but in between it remained pretty warm.  In the evening Steve drove me down to one of his local pubs several miles away, called the Tirlee Hotel, where we quaffed a few beers and had dinner.  I had the seafood platter in garlic on rice which went down a treat, and we listened to the local farmers bemoaning the effect of the rain on their crops. Then we drove back home to watch the film Dumb & Dumber, before calling it a night.

FROM WESTERN AUSTRALIA TO WEST END

TUESDAY 30th NOVEMBER

  Well it's time to say farewell to Western Australia and fly on to Southern Australia.  I had a cup of coffee and shave (not necessarily in that order), checked all my drawers, cupboards and wardrobes, and when convinced that I had left nothing behind, I went downstairs and checked out at 10.30am.  The shuttle bus was due at 11.10am so I sat in the lounge and checked my e-mails on the iPhone and found Mark wanted to know flight departure times for our flights in Australia.  By the time I had sent those it was 11.00am so I decided it was time to go and wait on the pavement outside.  Just as well, because the shuttle bus pulled up just as I went out. I paid my $15 for the ticket and boarded the bus. There were only four other passengers on board, and I was the last pickup.  Slim Dusty regaled us with a series of his chancons, until a passenger at the front inquired who he was.  The answer occuppied the driver virtually all the way to the airport.  He was obviously a fan who had done his research, for he spun off his complete lifestory: Born in 1927 of Irish immigrant parents, his real name was David Kirkpatrick. He cut his first record in 1942, The Song For The Aussie.  At this point I chipped in with the fact that he had a big hit in Britain with A Pub With No Beer.  And sure enought a few minutes later two versions of the song were blasting over the bus' loudspeakers.  This all saw us happily though to the Domestic Terminal where I disembarked.

  I was somewhat baffled by the total absence of check in desks.  Eventually I discovered that there were check in terminals.  I typed my name in and sure enough it came up with all the trips I had booked with Qantas.  I then had to click on "Adelaide" and my boarding card was printed out.  Now with a name like Adam Komorowski I can understand that it would be unlikely that more than one of us would have booked the same flights.  But what of the Joneses, Browns and Smiths?  No ID was required to be shown.  With the Boarding Card, you then had to go to the Baggage Self Check-In, swipe the boarding card, which prompted an adhesive barcoded strip to be printed out which had to be attached to the suitcase handle, and a baggage receipt form for the traveller to retain.  The case then had to be pushed onto the conveyer belt whence it disappeared into the great unknown!

  After phoning Steve Jones to let him know my arrival time (I only got his voice mail), I duly boarded the flight at Gate A11 as it stated on my boarding card, and found that we were served with luncheon on our 3 hour flight.  I was sat in the middle seat this time, and the chap in the window seat intoduced himself to me as Craig or Greg or some such name (a recently promoted geologist) and asked me if I was going home.  I explained that was not the case until next July, and that I was on a round the world trip.  This induced quite a lengthy conversation, at the end of which I had promised that I would try the South Australian speciality of a "pie floater", shared in a bottle of red wine (having already had two bottles of white of my own), and pronounced the muffins served with the luncheon as "quite nice".  My companion seemed pleased by my assessment and told me that in that case he would take his one home and give it to his wife as a present.  It was that or the bottle of body lotion he had taken from his hotel bathroom!

  Much to my amazement my suitcase arrived promptly on the carousel and I arrived in "Arrivals" in no time at all.  Of Steve there was no sign.  I had had a kind of premonition that this might happen, and with some trepidation phoned his mobile.  To my relief it was promptly answered.  I announced that I was at Adelaide Airport.  "Ah, you'll want picking up then?"  "Well, that would be very nice", I replied.  "I'll be with you in half an hour", came the reply.  I purchased a cafe latte and sat down near a Chinaman who was furiously working away on his laptop.  Eventually his wife and daughter (at least I assume that that was what they were), turned up and had an animated conversation in Chinese, which ended up with the teenaged daughter bursting into laughter.  Well it all helped pass the time.  After 25 minutes I emerged from the terminal to stand on the road outside, and sure enough Steve duly turned up in his 4x4 towing a trailer with one of his employees, Greg inside.  My case was dumped in the trailer, and I piled in.  Steve did confess that he had completely forgotten about me arriving until I had phoned, but as he was on the last day of completing a 5 month contract for a criminal lawyer, who had a $1000 a day penalty completion clause, I guess it is understandable.  Anyway he not only completed the contract on time, he also picked me up, so all's well that ends well. Further up the road Steve pulled into a bottle shop and invested in a six-pack of West End, which the three of us proceed to demolish on the way home.  The empties joined a pile of similar empty cans that were to be found on the floor.

  Eventually we reached Stockport, a connubation which boasts no pub and not a single store.  We drew into Steve's property that comprises of several acres with a dirt race track around the perimeterfor his nine year old son Matthew.

  Steve proceeded to cook dinner, the traditional Australian repast of steak, fried eggs, bacon, onion and chips.  A few beers later I retired to the most comforatable bed I had yet encountered on my trip, safely ensconsed in Southern Australia.