Archive for ‘Travel’

October 12th, 2011

It’s time for Dodger baseball! (kinda…)

When dad visited the USA on business in 1993, my mum, sister and I were fortunate enough to head to California to meet him. When greeting us at the airport, he slapped a blue Los Angeles Dodgers baseball cap on my head and I’ve been a fan ever since.

I was seven at the time.

I’m now 26.

Can you believe it’s taken me almost two decades to see Dodger Stadium? Admittedly I haven’t had many opportunities, but it’s certainly something that was a ‘must’ this time around.

When season 2011 started back in April, I was following my Dodgers with an interest that was far more intense than usual. If they could make the playoffs, I’d be able to see them play while I was here. Sadly for me (and the city of Los Angeles), they pretty much stunk and were out of contention by mid August.

Despite this, I had to go on my pilgrimage to Dodger Stadium to gain a greater understanding and perspective of this historic American sporting venue.

Dodger Stadium is situated in Chavez Ravine, just north-east of downtown LA. For some reason I thought it was much further from the city, but was pleasantly surprised.


A hop, skip and a jump from central LA


A view of downtown LA as the road snakes its way to the upper deck

Although located in the ‘ravine’ the stadium is actually built into a hill. This is done for two reasons;

1) Earthquake-proofing
2) By designing the stadium in this way, fans can get to their seats with ease, regardless of whether they’re in a ground level field box or the upper deck nosebleeds. There are multiple entrances and car parks as the road winds around the stadium, each corresponding with a number on your game ticket. Think of the road as an ‘elevator’ that allows you to stop at your desired point.


Outside the main gates at the bottom of the hill


It’s soon obvious that you’re in Dodgertown USA


It was a turbulent year for Dodger fans and many local businesses
made their feelings on the ownership very clear


Don’t complain about MCG parking prices again

After making my way up the winding road to the upper level, I met a friend and walked through the open gates.

I usually wouldn’t be this excited about striding into an empty stadium in the off-season, but I couldn’t believe that I was at the place I’d seen on TV and in video games countless times throughout the years. It’s a fabled and iconic venue throughout all of America, not just Los Angeles.


My first ever view of Dodger Stadium will be with me forever

I moved around the upper deck like a kid on Christmas morning. We were a good half hour early for the tour, so I spent a while soaking up the atmosphere (of an empty stadium) and getting my head around the fact that I was at the home of one of my favourite sporting clubs.

My first impression was how good the cheapest seats in the stadium were. If I had the choice of paying $12 to sit here or $500 to sit in the Dugout Club, I know where I’d be. I can only imagine how lovely it would be to relax in the upper section of the stadium on a summer night as the sun sets and the Dodgers take the field. I’ll get back there one day for sure.


Ticketing prices for the season just gone

Once 10am rolled around, a couple more people had arrived, as well as our tour guide. There was a Japanese couple and young family of four from Detroit which meant a small and intimate tour group.

When handing over my $15 for a ticket, I said something along the lines of, “Man I feel dirty giving my money to Frank McCourt” (reference to team owner who has driven the club into the ground). I pulled my head in though. I didn’t want to be ‘that guy’ before the tour had even started!

We got the introductory spiel and a bit of history about the venue. Some of it I knew quite well while other parts were completely new and fascinating to me.


On top of the world

One of our first stops was the press box.

As someone who has studied journalism and worked in sports PR for a number of years, this was very interesting. Perhaps unsurprisingly, not a whole lot actually differed from most setups we have back in Australia.

There were three rows of labelled benches, a dining area at the back and adjacent areas for broadcast and scoreboard operations. It seems to be a tried and true formula at venues throughout the world.

The thing that struck me however was that it was an open-air media room. Yes, it was covered to shield from any (rare) wind or rain, but the lack of windows allowed you to get a sense of atmosphere, sound, emotion and feel for the life inside the stadium. I’d give my right arm to cover the Dodgers as a career, although you’d better take my left arm or my writing won’t be all that good.


Where Los Angeles’ baseball scribes praise or scorn the Dodgers


Anyone need someone to spend his life watching baseball?

The press box is named in honour of Vin Scully who is one of the world’s pre-eminent sports broadcasters.

Vin just called his SIXTY-SECOND SEASON of baseball and has just committed to a 63rd in 2012. He is an absolute treasure.


The room that bears the name of one of baseball’s most respected


Just making sure the lineup is right

The corridor outside the press box is adorned with images of famous Dodgers. From Jackie Robinson to Sandy Koufax and everyone in between. It’s a fantastic tribute and reminder of the guys who have made the club great.


Doing my best Kirk Gibson impression (watch the video here)

Gibson’s shot is baseball folklore.

Down 4-3 in Game 1 of the 1988 World Series, Dodger Manager Tommy Lasorda called him up to pinch hit despite a banged up hamstring, sore knee and the lingering effects of a virus.

Dodgers’ advance scout Mel Didier claimed to know Oakland’s legendary closing pitcher Dennis Eckersley inside out.

The following plaque with his immortal words is displayed in the Dodgers clubhouse in the batting cage that Gibson used to warm up before that historic blast that would give LA a 5-4 win and eventually a World Series title.


Needless to say, Gibson got his backdoor slider on the 3-2 count


That 1988 World Series crown is on display in the Dugout Club

At this point of the tour we burst out of the doors and into the brilliant sunshine on the lower level of Dodger Stadium. These were el primo seats. The ones behind home plate that mean plenty of TV time and hobnobbing with movie stars and hedge fund managers.


The only drawback is viewing the game through the net!


On the hallowed dirt of Dodger Stadium

It was amazing surreal to be at ground level. The whole experience was unbelievable, but this in particular.


Everything is under control guys


GET BROXTON OUT OF THE GAME RIGHT NOW!

For those unfamiliar with procedures and processes in baseball, the manager is responsible for making pitching changes when he sees his guy fatiguing or when he wants to exploit a match-up. Pitchers don’t live in the dugout with the rest of the team. They live in the ‘bullpen’ – a separate area elsewhere in the stadium that allows them to throw and limber up.

When the manager wants to make a switch, he gets on the phone to communicate with his pitching coach. This is the actual phone used in the Dodgers dugout.


The home bullpen; where pitchers psyche up (or shit themselves)


“Is that Hogg? Yes! Yes, I believe the manager has made the call to
the bullpen and sent his Australian prospect out to pitch the ninth!”


It takes a special breed of player to be a pitcher

Believe it or not, the above photo is the area where the relieving pitchers watch the game. It is a ramshackle room underneath the left-field grandstand that must feel like a sauna during day games. It’s somewhat difficult to believe that a room in this condition exists in the Major Leagues.


The pitchers keep a tally of their wins on the wall inside the bullpen


They also record quotes from… I don’t even want to know

While walking from the clubhouse to the bullpen I said, “This is the exact same walk that Jonathon Broxton makes each night before he gets lit up.” That comment was met with a chuckle from the tour and a smirk from the tour leader who tried her best to stifle a laugh remain diplomatic.


Jerseys of ‘retired numbers’ adorn the clubhouse wall


A source of inspiration for current players

Just outside the clubhouse door and the long line of retired numbers from legendary players is a frame with nothing in it. This is designed to remind players that anyone can eventually reach a level that would result in them being considered among the truly elite. I thought it was a nice touch and something that the players pass each and every time they take to the field.


Is it too late to launch a Major League career at 26?


‘Reflecting’ on what could have been

Today was one of my favourite days on this trip so far.

I seem to be saying that EVERY day which is obviously a fantastic situation to be in.

Although I am yet to see my Dodgers in action, just having inside access to the stadium gave me a true feeling of the ballclub, the facilities, the local geography and only increased my desire to return for some on-field action soon. I’m still pinching myself that I was sitting in the Dodger dugout earlier today and roaming the bullpen!

It’s actually quite funny when I think about it.

This would be no big deal to many locals and those in the baseball industry – just like it would be no big deal for me to walk on the MCG or sit in the press box.

But when my favourite sports and  one of my favourite teams in the world is almost 13,000km away, these experiences can be the most memorable.

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October 12th, 2011

You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave

I love California. I don’t care what the rest of you say. Sure. It’s a region that has its shortcomings, but there’s something about the Golden State that makes me happy, relaxed and at home.

In my previous post I mentioned that I only awoke when the sunlight started to stream in through the aircraft windows as we made landfall. Unfortunately, as we pierced through the clouds on the descent into LAX, the sky turned from a brilliant blue to a dreary and miserably grey.

You’ve got to be kidding me! This is Los Angeles! Where the sun perennially shines!

One of the cool things about Air Tahiti Nui is the cameras mounted in the plane’s nose and underbelly, allowing passengers to view live pictures from the flight on the screens mounted in each seatback. Although hardly useful on an overnight flight across the Pacific Ocean, it’s really cool when you land and taxi to the gate.

Did we take a wrong turn? That CAN’T be California.
The city the world apparently watches

After another lengthy wait at immigration I picked up a newspaper (something I do whenever landing in a new port), found my shuttle bus and was soon on my way to Long Beach where I’m staying with a friend I met while working in the Tahoe ski fields in 2005/06.

Although I spent a week in Log Angeles on that particular trip, I’d never been to Long Beach. It’s situated approximately 40 minutes south of downtown LA and as the name suggests, is right on the coast.

It really is a beautiful spot. The beach stretches for miles (again… as the name suggests) and the track is heavily used by runners, cyclists and people looking to catch some of that California sun. Sadly, it’s not advisable to swim as Long Beach is one of America’s largest ports and petroleum producers. The water looks beautiful and is a hell of a tease if you’re working up a sweat on the beach.


A bit of perspective if you’re unfamiliar with southern California

I’m staying within a stone’s throw of the beach. Literally. It’s gorgeous.


My first morning on Long Beach

I’m also within four blocks of the many shops and bars on 2nd Street.

It’s got the feel of a city without being in the hustle and bustle of central Los Angeles or Hollywood. The locals are laid back and easy going which is more that can be said for other parts of this region.

Like anywhere I travel, my first priority was to dump my gear and go exploring. Everything I could want or need was within a short walk, including the Starbucks coffee shops where I have been obtaining internet access (there are TWO of them within a five minute walk).


Starbucks is a great resource to have. I even drafted my fantasy
hockey team at 4:30am. Now THAT’S dedication.

My second priority was to organise a sim card. I could get by for a few days without mobile coverage in Tahiti, but I needed to be online while on the go for several weeks in the United States.

Amazingly, only one of the three main carriers offered a pre-paid micro sim for the iPhone and as I said while in New Zealand, I will NEVER* complain about Australian carriers again.
* I still reserve the right to do this

While I can make calls and send texts easily enough, mobile data is painstakingly slow and when you’re on the go, that’s all you really want. Maps, internet and social media. Nevertheless, it’s my only choice so I’ll have to survive for three weeks on T-Mobile. Not bad value when all is said and done; just $80 for unlimited calls and text to US numbers, unlimited text to international numbers and 2GB of data which should serve me adequately.

But I do miss you Telstra.

While she’s very kindly offered to host me, my friend Louise is busy completing her teaching course during the day, so I’ve been left to my own devices. If you know me in person and have been reading my blogs to this point, you will know that arrangement suits me down to the ground.

On the second day I decided to find my way into downtown Los Angeles and check out some familiar sights and sounds.


A surprisingly clear LA day


Grauman’s famous Chinese Theatre

Unlike the wet and dreary anomaly when I arrived, Thursday served up a flawless morning so I decided to walk from Belmont Shore to downtown Long Beach where the transit centre is.

From the naked eye, it looked about a 30 minute walk. It was actually double that. Not that I minded! (and I’ve made the trek several times since then).


Saw this sign in downtown Long Beach. You’ve been warned.

It was only 10:30am by this stage but my stomach was growling. You know those moments when you MUST have a particular food? Anyone who has seen Harold and Kumar will know what I’m talking about, but it wasn’t White Castle I craved. It was Taco Bell.

After asking a friendly local and walking six blocks out of my way, I found my breakfast. Stop judging me.


Jealous much?

Following three tacos washed down with a ‘medium’ soda (bucket), I jumped on a train headed towards Los Angeles. The ride took about an hour and although it went through some of the dodgiest suburbs, it was quite a pleasant journey and allowed me to continue getting my bearings.


Passing the iconic Staples Centre in downtown Los Angeles

I changed at central LA and boarded another train that would take me to Hollywood.

I emerged from the subway and immediately found myself peering up at the Kodak Theatre and the other notable landmarks on this particular strip.


The hustle and bustle of Hollywood Boulevard

The year was 2005 last time I ventured to California and it’s quite remarkable how well I remembered it. I don’t know whether it’s my liking for geography and travel or just part of my subconscious, but I was able to reel off streets, venues and find my way around quite comfortably without referring to my phone.

I loathed doing the whole ‘tourist’ thing, but I felt compelled to walk up and down the strip a few times to reacquaint myself with the characters (freaks) that LA brings out.


It’s a worry when a guy in a green Hulk suit is not the biggest
screw-job on the street


Obligatory tourist shot

It was good to be in the thick of it, but an hour or two was pretty much all I could take before heading out to Beverly Hills. There were a number of busses that went straight there, but it was a beautiful day and I was in no hurry so decided to walk.

It’s about a five mile trip which is no walk in the park, but with so much to see, the time and distance was whittled away in no time.


Saw this on a wall on Sunset Boulevard


And this on a car window. The man still has some support.

About halfway there I heard a commotion ahead of me on Sunset Boulevard. I heard sirens and could see LOTS of flashing lights heading towards me. Moments later the biggest police escort I have ever seen came whizzing past. Two motorbikes led the pack and I am not exaggerating in the slightest when I say that there were 25-30 police vehicles in the convoy. In the middle was a dark coloured limousine with blacked out windows. I don’t know who was inside, but they were bloody important. I tried to use the powers of Twitter to find out, but local sources had no idea either despite also seeing the convoy.


Hollywood is full of escorts, but this was probably the biggest


The limousine of the very very very very important person

Beverly Hills is a beautiful area. The houses are immaculate, the shops are stunning, the cars are sexy but the people leave you shaking your head. It probably comes as no surprise, but it really has to be seen to be believed.


Swimmin’ pools… movie stars

It’s the sort of area you’d feel embarrassed driving a $50,000 Chrysler through. Seriously. It’s pretentious, arrogant, plastic and oh so hollow. I don’t want to paint everyone with the same brush, but it’s really hard not to. If you don’t have a Range Rover, Bentley, Porsche, Mercedes or Botox, there’s really no place for you in Beverly Hills.

Naturally I checked out many of the boutiques and while horrendously overpriced, they were exquisite nonetheless. Many of them had not changed out iota in five years, but why would they really need to? People will keep dropping the cash…


Sure. I’ll take three.


The message on this Nike shirt really resonated with me

I’d had enough walking for the day so jumped on a bus back to downtown LA. In hindsight I should have got off earlier than I did, but I stayed on and got the scenic route around the fringe of the CBD and through Chinatown. It was actually good to stroll through downtown LA as last time I stayed in Hollywood and didn’t deviate from that area.


America is bonkers for Halloween. Houses decorated a month early!

Aside from that Thursday adventure, that’s all the LA travel I’ve really done so far. I’m really enjoying the downtime to be honest. I could spend another week here sleeping in, walking in the sun, surfing the net at Starbucks and strolling up and down 2nd Avenue hopping between sports bars.

That’s something I have grown to LOVE LOVE LOVE about this country. There is a sports bar on almost every corner and venues that aren’t “sports bars” per se still have wall-mounted screens showing whatever games happen to be on.

The USA is nirvana for sporting fans. No doubt about it.

One of the things I particularly love is the strange novelty of watching American sport in its actual timeslot. Usually I’m trying to follow baseball throughout the morning in Melbourne or even worse, watching NFL from 4am on a Monday (the most gut-wrenching timeslot there is). However over here, games start when they’re meant to! Of course that means a couple of hours earlier if fixtures are on the east coast, but it’s still bliss and gives you the opportunity to socialise and enjoy good food and drinks during the game.

That brings me to NFL Sunday. WOW. I could very much get used to this routine.

East coast games kicked off at 10am Pacific Time. I met some friends at a local sports bar at this time and didn’t move until after 4pm. Every single game played live on giant screens above the bar, any food you could possibly want, drink specials and table service. What more could you want?

On the way back to Belmont I stopped into a different venue to watch the Packers v Falcons game and returned home very tired, very full and VERY ready for bed. Now I know why NFL is only played once a week.

Needless to say I had a bit of a sleep-in on Monday, hit Starbucks for a couple of hours and then did a bit of shopping on 2nd. Bought some jeans from GAP and a plaid shirt from Banana Republic; a look that is apparently ‘very Long Beach’ (something that later became apparent to me).


Summer beer drinking shirt? Check.

At the register the sales assistant asked whether I could like the receipt printed, e-mailed or both. Very 21st century. I was impressed (although not as impressed/creeped out when Apple automatically e-mailed me a receipt when I purchased a product in-store with a card that was linked to my iTunes account).

So it’s Tuesday evening and I can’t believe I’ve already been here a week. Today I ventured out to Chavez Ravine to fulfil one of the goals of this trip… visit Dodger Stadium! While it’s not anywhere near as good as seeing my beloved Dodgers in post-season action, it’s all I could manage at this stage. The tour was amazing and will be covered in a separate entry.

I was heading home from the Rose Bowl on Saturday night and drove past the turnoff to Dodger Stadium. It took every ounce of strength in my body not to yank the wheel to the right and see it right away, so I was positively giddy ahead of this morning’s tour.

Saturday night was amazing by the way. I’ve deliberately omitted details from this entry, purely because like Dodger Stadium, the football game it deserves a write-up of its own. I’ll try to get cracking on that one tonight.

Until then…


Loving life in LA
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October 11th, 2011

Three days in Tahitian paradise

The original plan was to remain in New Zealand for all six weeks of the Rugby World Cup. A feast of elite sport. What more could a guy want?

Then it hit me. Once the pool stage concluded, matches would only be played on weekends from the quarter finals, right through until the glittering showpiece on October 23. While I love the land of the long white cloud, it was a hell of a long time to remain there with no midweek rugby and little to do (not to mention imposing myself on our lovely hosts for another few weeks).

Several months ago I approached a travel agent that I know and asked him to find the cheapest fare from Auckland to Los Angeles, thinking I’d head across the Pacific for some sun and American sports before returning for the Rugby World Cup Final. The best fare he found was with Air Tahiti Nui. As soon as he said that, cogs started turning inside my head. “Do you think you could extend my layover in Papeete from three hours to three days?” I queried.

Boom. I was going to Tahiti.


My chariot, named ‘Bora Bora’ (sadly I wasn’t going there, this time)

It’s not the sort of place you’d really go to in normal circumstances. It’s extremely isolated (4000km from Auckland and 6600km from Los Angeles) and is a destination that you would probably plan a stand-alone trip around rather than simply ‘popping in.’ Thankfully my circumstances and travel schedule allowed me to do just this for no extra cost than my ticket to the US.

Flight time from New Zealand is a mere five hours and it was an absolute breeze. Unlike most airlines that have a 3-4-3 seating configuration, this one was 2-4-2 which meant no middle seats on either side and more room to move. After receiving a tiare flower and a beaming smile upon boarding, I quickly learned that despite being seated in the very back row, there was nobody next to me which meant glorious leg room and a relaxing flight to Papeete.

We landed in paradise late on Saturday night and were greeted at the airport by Polynesian singers and dancers. The cheery strumming of the ukulele made the painfully slow immigration queue somewhat bearable. It’s somewhat expected with smaller destinations like Tahiti, but the processing inefficiencies were glaring. I was one of the last off the plane however and the tracksuit pants I was wearing in 27 degree humidity didn’t make it any more bearable!


All visitors receive a local welcome at Faaa International Airport

Originally I’d planned to go ‘all out’ and spend my three days at the Radisson Resort. However after giving it some thought, I wanted my Tahitian experience to be genuine and not confined to the walls and swimming pool of a (stunning) resort. Additionally, most of the luxury hotels are located quite some distance out of town and since I was only there for a brief time, I wanted to be in the thick of it.

I’ve been a member of the international Couch Surfing project for some time, but never actually participated. For those who are unfamiliar with the concept, Couch Surfing is an initiative whereby travelers can request to stay with locals when they’re on the road. Not only is it designed to eliminate accommodation costs, but it also seeks to provide people with unique cultural experiences, local knowledge and new friendships throughout the world.

I got in touch with a woman by the name of Lenaik who lives in Papeete with her son, daughter, mother and father. She was more than happy to host me and even collected me from the airport. The Couch Surfing ethos was immediately evident when she took me on a brief tour of the city before we’d even gone home!

‘Home’ was nestled about 1km inland just outside of the Tahitian capital Papeete. After arriving and settling in, I hit the hay for what was going to be a busy few days of island exploration.


Looking up at the house from the street below


The reverse view from the balcony


Looking back towards the ocean

Sunday morning was certainly an interesting and unconventional start.

As Lenaik’s father is ill and confined to bed for most of the time, they were not able to attend worship as a family. Therefore, the priest made a house call early in the morning. Although I didn’t understand a word of French, it was engrossing to listen to the reading, singing and blessing. Tahiti is a very spiritual place and it was a great cultural experience on my first morning.

Shortly thereafter I took off to explore the local market which sold almost everything. As mentioned in a previous blog post, I aim to go to more markets and buy more fresh produce when I return to Australia and this only served as another great reminder! The sights, sounds and colours of a foreign marketplace are a fantastic experience and I urge you all to check them out if given the chance.


Nice catch, but I can’t help but think they look better in the ocean!


That equates to just $1.15 a bunch for those of you playing at home


Local vendors looking for business

After leaving the markets I explored Papeete on foot. The city’s population is just 26,000 but it seemed like a LOT more. I imagine that illusion is created by cramming almost all of those people into a few square kilometres in Tahiti’s most inhabited area; not to mention other tourists roaming the streets.


Out and about in Papeete

One of the pre-conceptions I had about Tahiti was that it was all white sand, coconuts and beaches. Boy was I wrong.

Papeete itself is a shipping port. There is not a beach within miles of the capital and even then, they consist mainly of rocks mainly rocks rather than sand. To get the pristine postcard imagery, you need to spread your wings and get to nearby islands such as Moorea or even better (but infinitely more expensive), Bora Bora in the Society Islands archipelago which is popular among honeymooners and the super rich (and quite often, both).


The Papeete foreshore

On Sunday afternoon I decided to hit the coast and just walk. I had no idea where I was going, but isn’t that half the fun of travel?

After getting past the outskirts of Papeete it soon became evident that there were people living in abject poverty (although this did not come as a surprise). There were homeless people fishing, cooking on fires and seeking shelter near the water as well as families living in corrugated iron huts near the airport.


And Darryl Kerrigan reckons HE lived close to the airport…


Living in poverty, but still boasting a backyard lagoon for the kids!

After walking and taking in the scenery for several hours I decided to head back to Papeete via the inland route. I was walking down the side of the freeway and noticed a gathering of people up on a ridge on the other side of the road. I crossed the highway, clambered up a hill and found myself in the middle of a pétanque tournament.

For those that don’t know, pétanque is a French game that is similar to lawn bowls. You hold a metal ‘boule’ with an overhand grip and toss it down the rink towards the jack.


A stunning afternoon in the sun at the ‘Boulodrome’

I was the only westerner in the area. I was surrounded by hundreds of Tahitians playing their games, drinking beer, singing and enjoying their weekend in the sun. They looked at me like I was from another planet, but were happy with my presence and carried on, some even trying to communicate with me in broken English. It was a fantastic experience and one of the random things that you can encounter when heading off the beaten track.


The situation looked pretty grim for these guys


Plenty of rinks were in action

Once arriving back in Papeete I found a local bar for a late lunch and cold beer. It just so happened that the NY Jets game was also on TV, so I watched a bit of it with a couple from New York before it became evident we were going to be destroyed by Baltimore.


The fresh seafood salad was absolutely amazing


Accidentally paid A$8.46 for a drink earlier in the day! Maths fail.


I will miss enjoying my breakfast out of a coconut


A stunning public access beach football arena in the heart of town


I quickly became addicted to Rotui canned juice. Amazing stuff!

Most of Monday was spent relaxing, hanging out in Papeete and catching up on news (my house had wireless that I could tap into via my phone). I also spent a great deal of time planning what I’d do on my final day in Tahiti.

It seemed criminal that I’d been there for 48 hours and not even dipped a toe in the water. As I said however, the beaches are well out of town and since I didn’t have a car or the time to spend a few days on an adjacent island, my options were limited.

Ever since deciding to visit Tahiti, I was absolutely desperate to see Teahupoo. Just the name itself strikes fear and awe into the hearts of surfers around the world. It’s widely renowned as one of the globe’s fiercest surf breaks and is situated at the southern tip of Tahiti. I’d come this far. I HAD to see it.

I decided that the best course of action would be to hire a car on Wednesday. Not only would it allow me the opportunity to explore the island in total freedom and with unlimited flexibility, but it would also allow me to get to the airport with ease later that night for my departing flight.


Every in Tahiti is le French. Right down to le hire car.

It was only when I sat in the car and began to pull out of the driveway that I realised,  ”Okayyyyyy, shit’s about to get real. You all drive on the right side of the road here…”

I’d noticed it all week, but it’s a different matter when you’re at the controls of a left-hand drive vehicle on the right-hand side of the road for the first time! Fortunately since I’m a male, I’m blessed with the genes that allow you to drive a car in all circumstances without panic or stress, so I was fine! (tongue might or might not be firmly in cheek right now…)

I left before 8am and decided to circumnavigate the island in an anti-clockwise direction starting from Papeete (in the north-western corner) and simply stop at my leisure. Here is a map for your reference.

Not long out of the capital I came across my first beach. I had to stop for a swim. You have no idea how joyous this was for me!


Invigorating

The west coast of Tahiti is known for its surf, although as you can see in the photo, the shoreline is serenely protected by reefs further out to sea. It’s not until you squint and look to the horizon that you can catch a glimpse of the waves that make this island one of the most desirable locations on the planet for surfers.


Most surfing locations require a boat ride to reach the break

I stopped numerous times to take in the jaw-dropping scenery, but I was keen to push to Teahupoo on with earnest. The closer I got, the more excited I became.

I stopped at a marina just outside the township and did my best to speak a combination of broken English/French to a woman in the office. Somehow I was able to communicate that I wanted to take a boat out to the surf break. She spoke to a local fisherman who told me to keep driving as far as I could and one of the guys there would be able to take me.

I jumped back in the car and several minutes later was arriving at surfing nirvana. Mighty Teahupoo.


The furthest point that you’re able to travel by far to the south

Directly behind me in this photo is a pedestrian bridge that crosses a small inlet. You then reach a peninsula with a handful of houses – all inhabited by surfers from all over the world; some professional, but most of them bums who spend their lives and money chasing waves (and who could blame them?)

I met a big Polynesian guy who was clearly the friend of the man I’d previously spoken to at the marina. He took me to the beach where we waited for his French buddy. He actually spoke very good English and we spent a while chatting about the break and the geography of the area.


The view from Teahupoo’s beach looking towards the famous break


Not a good idea to frolic in the shallows though. These little bastards
can kill you in a matter of hours.

After some brief price negotiation we jumped in the boat and headed towards the reef. The Polynesian guy had initially suggested 1500 Francs (A$17) but his mate wanted 2000. Whatever. I was in no real mood to haggle over a mere A$5.


My French buddies and I head for the reef

The guys were surprised that I wanted to go out on such a “bad” day, but understood I was only in town for the day. There was not a single surfer in the water due to the onshore winds and messy waves. I was dumbstruck. It was like when I worked a ski season at Heavenly in California/Nevada in 2005/06 and the locals complained that they “only” had six metres of snow. When you’re blessed with one of the world’s best locations, your standards rapidly increase.


Yeah. Absolutely shocking conditions, right?


The stunning view back to the coast with the heaving surf

The 2011 Billabond Pro was held at Teahupoo in August and the waves were utterly insane. Here’s a taste and a good perspective of the power Teahupoo can produce on its day: video. Bear in mind that a sharp reef lies just a few feet below the water and will chew you up in the event of a wipeout. I recently had a friend tell me that he’s less apprehensive about surfing 15 foot waves at Mavericks off the Californian coast than he is at the prospect of hitting the reef at Teahupoo in much smaller conditions.


I could not have been happier or more relaxed

We were bobbing around in a spot between the reef that gave us a great view of both breaks. Although I didn’t have a board (or the skills) to surf the wave itself, I absolutely had to get in the water.


In the water at Teahupoo. It was so thrillingly surreal!

Of all the great travel experiences I’ve had, this rates well up there. Although not a “great” day according to the locals, it was just amazing to get into the water and see one of the world’s best surf spots first hand. I was bouncing around full of energy and life. This is what travel is all about!


An unforgettable day


Retirement location anyone?

I jumped in the car and after grabbing a quick bite at a local cafe, continued my drive around the island.

Upon arriving at Taravao I headed inland to climb up to the plateau for the stunning views. I’d been told that when driving up into the mountains, Tahiti will completely change appearance. The water and surf vanishes and is replaced by trees and cows. You wouldn’t have a clue that you were in the middle of paradise. If not for the heat, humidity (and LUSH LUSH greenery), you could well be in Australian farmland – and this was just 10 minutes from the coast.


Ok. Where did the water go?


The climb was well worth it (looking north up the western coast)


Immaculate scenery wherever you turn


Looking north across the island

Refer back to the map I posted earlier for a moment. See the narrow piece of land at Taravao that joins the two large portions of the island? That can be seen in the image above. Hopefully that should provide some geographic perspective.

I continued on my merry way and started to trek up the eastern coast. It was a lot more lush and serene than the western side of the island and there was no surf as far as I could tell.

Tahiti is a very, very small island. I was able to drive around it in less than a day but you could do it in a couple of hours if you were in a hurry. But not many people are in a hurry in this part of the world though, and with very good reason.

Shortly before arriving back in Papeete there was a series of waterfalls slightly inland. It was a beautiful hike through the forest that took you to the base of these monsters.


Another beautifully diverse piece of Tahiti


Signs warned people against swimming, but how could you not?

I arrived back in Papeete in the early evening and returned ‘home’ to thank my hosts before packing my bags and heading back to Faaa International Airport. I planned to arrive SUPER early (five hours before my flight) to check in first and get a prime seat with leg room for the eight hours it would take to get to Los Angeles. Unfortunately, everyone else seemed to have that idea. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I got to the queue and there were already 50 people in front of me!

I guess that’s what happens in a small place like Tahiti where there are only a handful of international flights each week and departing guests really don’t have anything else to do but head for the airport.

I stood in line getting frustrated at the fact I’d tried to be so smart and it had not paid off. Then a Calvin Harris song started booming through my headphones.

I don’t want to be one of “those people” who find life-altering messages in every bloody piece of music ever written, but I couldn’t help but smile when I heard this.

Here’s the song and the vibrantly upbeat chorus kicks in at 1:32… “These are the good times in your life, so put on a smile and it’ll be all right.”

Why was I annoyed? I was in TAHITI about to board a flight to LOS ANGELES! I’m 26, traveling the world and shouldn’t have a care in the world. It’s funny how music can bring you back to earth and be a source of relaxation.

After checking in, I quickly cleared immigration and found a seat in the lounge. The departure lounge at Faaa is set up beautifully. There are plenty of seats and tables inside, but also some lounge chairs on an outside deck which was perfect on a humid night.


Best departure lounge I’ve ever been in!

Are you ready for a radical theory? Jetlag is a myth. Bunkum. Bullshit. Made up.

If you manage your body right, the effects will be nil (or minimal). Several hours before departing, set your watch for the current time at your destination and live as if you were there. In my case, it was 2am in Los Angeles when I was killing time at the airport. My plan? Get drunk and sleep. It was the best move ever.

In the two hours before boarding I tallied a modest two beers and three glasses of whiskey on the rocks. Provided you can hold your liquor and not act like an idiot, this works wonders. I was asleep just minutes after take-off and didn’t wake until the sun streamed through the windows when we were 30 minutes off the Californian coast. I even missed meal service and don’t remember stirring for seven hours.

Genius. I was able to start my first day in LA rested, relaxed and full of energy.


Ready to roll

Stay tuned for the start of my American blogs in the next day or two. I’m trying to catch up as quickly as I can, but there’s far too much to do here!

Thank you Tahiti for a magnificent three days. I’d dearly love to return again to explore the outer archipelagos, but it was such a treat to get a taste of French Polynesia as I hopped from New Zealand to the United States. A beautiful land with beautiful people. I highly recommend going if you ever get the chance. I was just happy to leave my footprint.

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October 8th, 2011

Farewell to New Zealand… for now

First and foremost, I apologise for the delay between updates! As you’ll read throughout the ensuing entries, it’s been a hectic week of travel but I’ve loved every single minute.

Sitting in Auckland last Friday, it was difficult to comprehend that I only had two games remaining before heading off. When you spend more than 12 months preparing for a trip, the weeks disappear in the blink of an eye when you’re actually on the road. It’s sad, but it also goes to show how much fun I’m having.

That night we ventured back to North Harbour stadium (a third such occasion for me) to see South Africa take on Samoa. It was the first time the Springboks had seen Auckland throughout their campaign and I was really looking forward to watching them play. I’ve seen them countless times on TV and most of their superstars throughout the Super Rugby competition, however I’d never seen the national team live which is something that I was pleased to rectify.


The national anthems ring out at North Harbour


Another stirring Samoan performance of the Siva Tau

The game itself was a very entertaining contest. Despite being all but eliminated from the World Cup, Samoa sought to turn it on for their fans one last time and took it right up to the Boks. The boring, predictable South Africans tried to play their boring, predictable (but effective) kicking game much to the chagrin of the crowd (be sure to check out this Facebook page if you want a chuckle).

Although not crowd pleasing, I’ll be the first to admit that I’m completely in awe of the respective boots of Morne and Francois Steyn. These guys will kill you in multiples of three if you give them the chance, so I was thrilled to see these guys play live for the first time. They put on a first half show, confidently arrogantly attempting shots from well inside their own half, aided by a strong breeze. It was one-way traffic but South Africa only had a 13-0 lead to show for their domination.


Morne Steyn adds another three

To Samoa’s credit, they came out and forced the issue in the second stanza. It was great for the fans and great for the game, despite what the increasingly disgruntled South African fans thought. Although prevailing 13-5 (yep, a scoreless second half from one of the World Cup favourites), the game could have gone either way. There were plenty of questionable refereeing decisions against Samoa and most of the post-game media was weighted heavily in their favour. Captain Eliota Sapolu Fuimaono took it one step further and lashed out on Twitter, earning him a ban after he failed to show up to the disciplinary hearing (new hearing scheduled for October 15).

I wasn’t impressed by South Africa in the slightest. As I write this, it’s a little over 24 hours until they square off against the for the right to (probably) face New Zealand in the semi-final. I’m going on record now to say that Australia will win and win comfortably. If we can limit penalties (something we’ve admittedly not done well) and keep the ball in hand, I can’t see how the Boks will win. I dearly hope this is not misguided optimism, but I’m confident the Wallabies will last at least one more week.


Bryan Habana down for the count as injuries start to hit the Boks

The following night we ventured back to Eden Park for the salivating clash between England and Scotland. Argentina’s narrow victory in Wellington the week prior was the shot in the arm this game desperately needed as it set up a delightful scenario whereby the Scots had to win by at least eight points to stay alive (and put their arch rival on the next flight to Heathrow).

We had superb Level 1 seats this time around, situated undercover which was just as well as the heavens had once again opened up.

We were positioned just in front of the plush corporate areas where the name tags on each seat usually started with “Lady” or “Baron.” As much as I looked, I wasn’t able to spot any embarrassing members of the Royal Family acting like idiots. He was out on the field.


Lucky beneficiary of plush seats among the prawn sandwich brigade

The singing of the national anthems was on a level that I’d never experienced before. It was goosebump-inducing – even though I have no strong loyalty to either side (but was heavily in the Scottish corner on the night). If you know fans from both sides, you will know they are renowned for creating vibrant and loud atmospheres in sporting venues worldwide. God Save The Queen and Flower Of Scotland were just AMAZING and it set the scene for a great game.


Taking in the scenery at Eden Park

Scotland was switched on from kick-off and started to slot penalties from all over the field.

As the Scots grew their lead three points at a time, English supporters around Eden Park turned to a quivering pile of nerves. They were biting nails, yelling in frustration at their own players and cowering in their seats, scarcely able to watch what was unfolding.

But the thing about northern hemisphere rugby is that more often than not, it’s a slug fest. All it takes is a try to completely break the game open.


One of the best and one of the worst playing strips at the World Cup

The game itself reminded me a lot of Australia vs Ireland, although I enjoyed this one much more as my emotional investment was minimal! It also helped that Johnny Wilkinson couldn’t hit the side of a barn door. The Scots (and the neutrals) loved the associated schadenfreude!

England got their act together however and not only got inside the margin required to top their pool, but won the game outright which was quite undeserved in my humble opinion. Scotland were brave, but were probably 10 minutes shy of causing a huge upset and one of their greatest ever results.


Boooooooo, hissssss! Johnny’s gonna miss, Johnny’s gonna miss!

So that’s it! Where did the pool stage disappear so quickly? It honestly seems like mere days ago when we were on our way to Eden Park for the RWC opening clash between New Zealand and Tonga. Some three weeks and 10+ games later, we’re done (well… I’ll be back for the Final!)

I’d like to take this opportunity to thank everyone in New Zealand for being such accommodating hosts.

You’ll be hard pressed to find more a welcoming group of people than Kiwis and they have so far done their country proud. From the biggest cities to the smallest towns, the country had rugby fever and it was great to see.

The volunteers are also doing a magnificent job in what can often be a tedious and thankless task. Some luck out and get jobs on the field of play, others are posted 1km from the stadium in the rain telling patrons which way to walk to their gate (and always with a smile on their face). I know they will receive the plaudits they deserve from the RWC brass in the coming weeks, but I just wanted to say thanks for playing such a pivotal role in helping international guests such as myself get the most out of New Zealand.

I look forward to returning for the Final for a one-day curtain call on October 23!

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September 25th, 2011

Samoan Sunday

Today was one of the more leisurely Sunday mornings I’ve had in some time; a long sleep-in followed by a trip to the bountiful Clevedon Farmers’ Market.

I honestly couldn’t tell you the last time I went to a market which is crazy considering how much I love fresh food. Usually I’m too lazy to rise on the good side of 10am and subsequently miss all of the action. I must seek to change that upon my return seeing as Melbourne is blessed with some of the country’s best markets!

I could have stayed there grazing all morning. Bacon and egg rolls with home made sauces, venison sausage, fresh pastries, smoked meats, seafood, organic fruit juices, and more South American desserts than you could poke a Churro at. Amaaaazing!

We also stopped at Puriri Hills winery for a brief tasting session on the way back. The woman who owns it has the most breathtaking homestead overlooking the 100-acre property and vineyard. If you’re ever in the area, definitely check it out.


Very impressed with the benchtop iPad that allowed you to browse
vintages and register for the Puriri wine mailing list

We headed home for a brief stop before making our way towards Eden Park for the much-hyped Pacific Islands clash between Samoa and Fiji.

The game had been long sold out and promised to be an explosive show of raw power and explosive pace from two nations of rugby purists. Sadly the incessant rain dampened our expectation for high-speed running rugby, but I looked forward to the clash nonetheless.


Evidence of a sellout was clear the moment we arrived at the gate

The highlight of the match for mine was seeing the two teams perform their traditional pre-game war dance simultaneously. Unlike the respect that is paid to the Haka (where opposing teams wait before performing their ritual), the Fijians immediately responded to the Samoans and the crowd went BALLISTIC! It was a truly amazing spectacle to witness.

Sadly for Fiji, that’s about as fired up as they got all day. They were clearly overmatched by a bigger, faster and more skilled Samoan rival, going down 27-7.


A surprisingly good view despite the height and distance

Although the game itself was never much of a contest, today’s result helped set the scene for later in the week (as did Argentina’s exciting win over Scotland).

My remaining games are:

South Africa vs Samoa (the Samoans have to win to be a chance of pipping Wales to a berth in the Quarter Finals) and;
England vs Scotland (the Scots must win and hope Argentina suffers a monumental defeat to Georgia a day later)

The worst case scenario is that both pools would have been decided by now and there’s nothing worse than dead rubbers. Thankfully that’s not how it played out.

The Springboks game looms as a genuinely feisty clash and while I think Scotland have Buckley’s chance of qualifying, at least they play the day before Argentina so must treat it as a ‘live’ fixture. Hopefully this means two cracking games to round out my time before boarding a plane for Tahiti next Sunday afternoon.

I will be back for the Final however.

In last week’s post I discussed how the Wallabies have all but ruined their World Cup campaign by losing to Ireland. While I still think they blew a huge opportunity, I’m not quite prepared to write them off just yet. It will require unprecedented vanquishing of southern hemisphere foes, but it can be done.

I’d dearly love to see us there on October 23, but will appreciate the opportunity regardless of who takes to the field in search of rugby’s greatest prize.

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September 25th, 2011

A capital day in Wellington

It was a long week following Australia’s shock defeat to Ireland. That’s why Friday couldn’t come soon enough as it was time for swift and decisive redemption.

I jumped on a plane just prior to 9am and was quickly winging my way south. The flight itself is barely 45 minutes. Once you’re up, you pretty much begin the descent. For my Australian friends, it’s probably the equivalent of the Melbourne to Canberra run. Amazingly, the plane was only a third full which was a rare luxury.

I’d heard of Air New Zealand’s unique safety video before, but I’d never remembered to check it out on YouTube, so the first time I saw it was during the pre-flight briefing. Thankfully there was nobody around to hear me chuckling like a fool, but this is how to turn something mundane and boring into something engaging and enjoyable. A huge tip of the cap to Air NZ and the All Blacks!

After a week of garbage weather in Auckland, I looked forlornly at the sunshine and blue sky as I departed. Thankfully Wellington turned on an equally immaculate day!

The last time I found myself in Wellington was 2000 at the tail-end of a school hockey tour. I was only in Year 9 and remember it fondly as I scored just my second goal for the Carey 1st XI (a sliding reverse-stick nudge under the approaching & sliding goalie’s pads from the top of the circle for those who care…)

Needless to say, the city has changed dramatically since then. Everyone I’ve spoken to says it reminds them a bit of Melbourne. While nowhere near the size, I can see where they’re coming from. Situated on the water, Wellington is full of trendy little bars, cafes and restaurants which I haven’t seen a great abundance of in Auckland. I love both cities, but I just found more ‘charm’ and life in the New Zealand capital.


The beautiful descent into Wellington


The ‘Beehive’ – New Zealand’s parliament

After checking in, I explored the city by foot for most of the afternoon.

There were plenty of Australian fans out and about; made painfully obvious by flag capes, southern cross tattoos, gold bucket hats, thongs, the use of garish face paint and other equally-bogan traits.

I love my country and will support the Wallabies as parochially as I can, but you need to draw a line somewhere and many of our travelling fans are an embarrassment. Believe it or not, it’s possible to support your country without being an obnoxious wanker, oi oi oi! Let’s leave it there…


My gold obsession begins and ceases with a jersey!

Funnily enough, I love the life, vivacity and colour of OTHER competing nations. I just get a little sick in the stomach when I see morons parading around with green and gold wigs. Double standards? Probably. But that’s just the way it is. I can’t explain it. Here are a few of the sprightly Americans I ran in to…

I really appreciated my first opportunity to visit Westpac Stadium (or Wellington Regional Stadium as it’s known for the duration of the World Cup – or the ‘Cake Tin’ as it’s affectionately dubbed by Kiwis!) It’s conveniently located on the waterfront a short walk from the centre of town, although being dockside, it has the same chaotic bottleneck problems that Etihad Stadium does upon exiting.


With a capacity of 36,000 if was to be the scene of Australia’s rebound match.

With all due respect to the United States, there was no way they were ever going to be competitive. While nobody of note would dare utter such sentiment on public record, it’s safe to say the game would be little more than an 80-minute training drill and hopefully an avenue by which to take out some of the frustration inflicted by Ireland the previous weekend.


No mucking around from skipper Rocky Elsom


Kurtley Beale thoroughly unimpressed with one of his team mates…


Michael Bolton, or American Captain Todd Clever?


Will Genia captained the Wallabies for the first time


Advance Australia Fair

Aside from a sluggish start, poor kicking and some unfortunate injuries in the dying minutes, the match went pretty much to script for the Wallabies.

Quick ball movement and superior conditioning proved too much for the Eagles who succumbed 67-5. Funnily enough, the Americans scored the first World Cup try that has been notched against Australia since the penultimate game of the group stage of the 2007 tournament (Australia since beat Canada and Italy and lost to England and Ireland without conceding a try).


One of my favourite action shots so far; Wallabies in motion

Adam Ashley-Cooper played a stormer of a game, bagging a hat-trick and continuing to find opportunities to put his team mates through. Will Genia was his usual rock-solid self at scrum-half in his debut as skipper and the pack won the battle of the forwards; unlike last weekend’s nightmare at Eden Park.

A HUGE concern for Australia however is goal kicking. Kurtley Beale and Quade Cooper have been nothing short of abysmal off the tee throughout the tournament and with James O’Connor in and out of the team, the Wallabies have no dependable option. Well… that was until Berrick Barnes emerged early in the second half.

After missing the latter stages of the Super Rugby season with concussion, this was his first run at international level after working his way through local grades. Without over-analysing his performance, Barnes was brilliant and staked his claim to be installed in Australia’s starting fifteen.

Not only did he drill four of five conversions (none were ‘gimmes’ either as far as I recall), but he injected some life and spark into a Wallaby backline that has been crying out for a steady hand.

Hopefully he gets an opportunity to impress against Russia and force his way into the lineup – perhaps sadly at the expense of one of his injured team mates.


Not a bad seat in the house

I planned to head out after the game but a lingering virus had me feeling like absolute rubbish. Liz and I both picked up colds the week before and since we were on the road together, it made it near impossible to shake. I’d like to be noble and say I made the valiant decision for my health, but truth be told I could barely utter a sentence without coughing up a lung (which was not a good look after a teen had died of the meningococcal virus the day before and another case has since emerged tonight.)

I settled for a quick beer with @shane_harmon and hit the hay for an “early” one just after midnight.

On Saturday morning I decided that enough was enough. If you know me well, you will know that I need to be near death to break from my stubbornness and see a doctor. While not quite at that point, I just wanted to get healthy to continue enjoying this holiday. No matter where you go or what you do in the world, it’s compromised if you feel rubbish.

So after 90 minutes of waiting, a five minute consultation and a $100 bill (knew I bought travel insurance for a reason), I emerged with a chest/sinus infection diagnosis and a script to grab some antibiotics. Twenty-four hours later I’m feeling better, but still frustrated that I was struck down and feeling terrible for the last few days.

It turned out that the medical centre was just a couple of blocks from The Basin. Since I’d never seen it, I made sure to circumnavigate the ground on my walk back to town.

It’s a very picturesque little stadium and I can only imagine how nice it would be to lie on the grassy banks and watch cricket on a summer’s day. A lot can be said about ‘fan-friendly’ venues like these. While I make no secret of the fact I’ve rapidly fallen out of love with cricket, I might well attend matches where I can sprawl on the grass, bat a tennis ball around or enjoy a few drinks without being confined to a rock-hard plastic chair.

The original plan was to return to Auckland by 5pm on Saturday afternoon and go straight from the airport to Eden Park to see New Zealand take on France.

Still feeling rubbish, I donated my ticket to Liz’s cousin’s husband who has been so graciously putting us up while in Auckland. I probably could have gone, but 1) It was essentially a dead rubber and; 2) The guys were keen to head out after the game, which I was not.

So rather than go and see the All Blacks at Eden Park, I went home and was asleep on the couch before the Haka had even been performed.

Good decision!

Love Wellington.

Love the Wallabies on the rebound.

Love the fact that I am getting healthy.

Love the fact that I have four free days ahead.

Ciao for now.

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September 23rd, 2011

A lazy afternoon at Auckland Airport

Since I was a little tacker I’ve always had a fascination in aircraft. I don’t think you can ever be too old to appreciate the awesome power and grace of a plane as it lifts off or touches down.

One of my unusual hobbies is aviation photography. Since buying myself my first DLSR earlier this year (a Nikon D7000), I’ve enjoyed experimenting and seeing what kind of shots I can get.

Obviously Melbourne is my usual haunt, so I appreciated the opportunity to get out to Auckland Airport and explore a new location (although sadly the weather was rubbish for shooting).

Since it’s located on the water, there are few accessible vantage points. The main (and easiest) spot was a car park adjacent to the bridge leading into the airport grounds. I parked there on Thursday afternoon to watch and shoot the afternoon traffic. Here’s some of what I managed to get:

The suburb that I’m staying in is underneath the eastbound approach path and this Emirates A380 ex Dubai-Brisbane swings by every day at exactly the same time. I arrived at the airport prior to its arrival, only to see that air traffic control had changed configuration so all incoming aircraft landed from the west (which is on the water and inaccessible). Not happy! Nevertheless, I got a fantastic side-on view as it taxied to the terminal. ATC reverted back to the eastbound approach path later in the afternoon which was strange, because there was barely a breath of wind.

This is the exact same flight that I’ll be boarding next Sunday en route to Tahiti and eventually Los Angeles.

An airline that you won’t see in Melbourne which I find part of the charm of visiting foreign airports.

Another fresh sighting. Based in Chile, LAN mainly services the Americas but also swings through Auckland and Sydney.

A local bird takes flight.

One of Air New Zealand’s smaller ‘Link’ planes

Off to Singapore.

Jetstar. Probably three hours late and heading in the wrong direction.

Malaysian Air takes to the sky.

One of the Qantas planes with Wallabies livery descends.

If you drive across the bridge and into the grounds of Auckland Airport you can turn off the main road and into a car park adjacent to the DHL building. This is next to the maintenance yard where you can get up close and personal to beasts like this. I love the A380, but there’s something awesome about a 747.

Another one you’ll never see in Melbourne.

I’ve got a few days off this week, so I’ll try and get back on a better day for the A380 landing, but failing that I hope to check out LAX in the coming weeks.

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September 20th, 2011

Fun and games in rainy Hawkes Bay

There was barely enough time to digest Australia’s calamitous weekend result before we were on the road again. This time it was straight down the eastern coast to a region called Hawkes Bay.


These mountains were capped with snow on the return trip


Beautiful Hawkes Bay – despite the lack of sand

While predominantly making the trip to see France vs Canada in Napier, we also planned to hit up one of the area’s most renowned wineries; Craggy Range.

I wouldn’t be the slightest bit surprised if the Fédération Française de Rugby had actually demanded a game in Napier so their traveling fans could indulge in wine, cheese and rugby. It was basically a home game for le French!

All we saw on the drive south were motor homes and hire cars with French flags draped across the back windows. It was a great atmosphere and only enhanced the sentiments that I expressed in week one; that the French brought most colour and life to this World Cup.

Sadly the weather didn’t come to the party as it rained persistently throughout the afternoon and well into the game. While pretty miserable to begin with, once you were wet there was not much that could be done but make the best of it!


Oooooohhhhh Canadaaaaaa!

Thankfully the game itself was enjoyable and far more high scoring than the weather otherwise suggested. Canada stuck with the French until the 60th minute when like they did against Japan, the Europeans put the game beyond doubt with a late scoring burst.

And again… as I said… the French are a LOT of fun…


A wet and wild Napier night


Making friends in the crowd


Rocking out with their cocks out

After the game we got warm, dry and decided to head downstairs to have ‘a couple of beers.’

As so often happens, a couple turned into a couple more and soon it became a big night on the town.

We hopped between a couple of bars before settling on an Irish joint that was absolutely jumping.

How common is a sign like this? We couldn’t believe that bars were allowed to set such a policy, but it was par for the course throughout Napier, so clearly they’re not too big on RSA down here!


Double trouble

As the clock neared 3am we heard some cheers from the front of the bar. Lo and behold, a scrum of French players appeared! I was gobsmacked. They were decked out in the full team tracksuit too – nobody was incognito here. They mingled with fans, enjoyed a drink and led chanting and a rousing rendition of La Marseillaise. It was so damn refreshing in the modern era of robot sportsmen. I understand why most clubs/teams set stringent policies, but there was something special about a group of world-class athletes heading out to see their fans after an important win.

Would they have done the same thing for a World Cup in France? Probably not. But I enjoyed it (along with hundreds of delirious French fans).


Pictured with French #2, William Servet

After a modest Monday sleep-in we headed for Craggy Range which is situated just half an hour south-east of Napier. The winery is tucked into a little valley in the giant shadow of the Range itself.


A setting almost as good as the food and wine


The beautiful Craggy Range

I posted a link to the menu in my previous post, but you really had to see it to believe it.

Allow me to walk you through culinary heaven…


Poached rose veal, tuna mayonnaise, micro salad & fried shallot.


Pepper crusted beef fillet, béarnaise, red wine jus & Terrôir fried
potatoes and on the other side it’s spiced ‘Firstlight’ venison shortloin,
‘Terrôir Garden’ Jerusalem artichokes, mushrooms & cassis prunes.


Crab apple tarte tatin with vanilla bean ice cream & cinnamon sugar.

Result? Nirvana. I was on driving duty so only had a couple of wines, but boy did I enjoy them!

We had a quick look at the cellar door and tasted a few more drops before hitting the road. It’s too expensive to ship cases back home, but they have an Australian distributor so I will look into it upon my return!


These come highly recommended

I absolutely hit the wall that night. Had a ‘nap’ at 7pm and woke at 2am before going back to sleep for a mammoth 12-hour session. I honestly can’t remember the last time I’ve done that, but I needed to re-charge the batteries.

Most of Tuesday was spent on the road as we headed back to Auckland with a few brief stops on the way. I remember seeing towns such as Taupo, Hamilton and Rotorua as a youngster either travelling with my family or a school group, but it was nice to re-visit over a decade later.

We left Napier with three bars of fuel illuminated and the console started beeping just over 30k’s from Taupo and safety. I was confident the entire way and was even keen to see how far we could get……


There’s a Seinfeld scene for every occasion

Tomorrow morning we hit the road to Whangarei. This week has been nothing but travel, travel, travel.

I’m actually looking forward to heading up there as I’ve never been north of Auckland. While the Tonga vs Japan game itself it largely irrelevant in the grand scheme of things, it’s all about the journey, right?

The travel doesn’t stop there however. Thankfully on Friday I’ll be airborne on the way to Wellington to see Australia take on the USA. If the Wallabies don’t pound them into oblivion then I might as well go home now. Not only will it be a good way to relieve some of the Irish frustration, but we still need to accumulate as many points as possible in case Italy can shock Ireland and place our qualification in jeopardy.

Sorry America. But you’re going to cop a pounding. And I’m going to enjoy it.

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September 18th, 2011

The night the Wallabies probably surrendered the Cup

Where to begin? How can I possibly summarise the events (or non-events) of tonight?

I’ve sat here nursing a glass of vodka for half an hour trying to think of how to attack this piece. There’s only one way…

Australia was awful. That’s it. There are no two ways about it.


Just before things got ugly

Ireland is a strong rugby side but with all due respect, the current Australian unit should have them comfortably covered.

Tonight’s match was the showpiece of Pool C with the winner all but certain to top the group. It’s the game Australia could not afford to lose, and did.

The repercussions of Saturday night’s shock loss are damning. Rather than a potential QF and SF against Wales/Samoa and England, Australia must now conquer the might of the southern hemisphere. The South Africans will more than likely be waiting in the quarter finals with the tournament-favourite All Blacks on deck for whoever escapes from that dogged scrap.

Many philosophical fans have raised the “You have to beat everyone at some stage” argument, but I don’t buy it. Here’s why:

1) You DON’T have to face everyone. Beat Ireland and Australia avoids one of New Zealand or South Africa – the two biggest threats.
2) Even if the Wallabies must face these teams, successive matches will kill them.

Do you really think a team can emerge from a scrap with the Springboks and defeat the All Blacks on home turf in a World Cup semi the following week? Nothing is impossible in sport, but Australia’s path was made a whole lot harder tonight.

The Wallabies were $3 to win the World Cup prior to the game. Afterwards? $7. Boom. Game over man.

I’m still trying to put my finger on what the hell happened.

To be 100% clear and up-front, Ireland absolutely deserved their win. They were more tenacious, skilled, tactical and willing in tonight’s battle. Australia lacked desire and polish. It was embarrassing at times. The Wallabies are a much better side than they showed, but the World Cup is not the time to have an off night. You just can’t afford that at this level.

Robbie Deans will rightly have questions asked in regard to his unwillingness to pick a backup #7 to replace the injured David Pocock. The Wallabies were exposed brutally at the breakdown. Ireland to their credit seized upon this and used Australia’s weakness as a foundation upon which to construct a historic win. Deans will also be grilled over his lack of a ‘Plan B.’ We saw it against Samoa and we saw it again tonight. Australia is a brilliant side when firing on all cylinders, but what happens when the chips are down? A nation asks you Robbie…

Where to from here?

A week of soul searching and then off to Wellington and Nelson for ‘tune-up matches’ against the USA and Russia. I’m not intending to be disrespectful, but if Australia doesn’t post cricket scores against these nations then I’ll pay for their return plane tickets myself.

The World Cup is not over (statistically speaking), but the road has gone from ‘managable’ to ‘pushing shit uphill” (technically speaking). I’ve been following sport long enough to know that anything can happen, but we blew a golden opportunity tonight. Win – top the group – avoid the big guns. Now we’ve got rejuvenated South African and New Zealand teams on deck. Shit just got real.


A huge turnout of 50 Irish fans and 55,000 Irish-supporting Kiwis

Result aside, tonight’s ‘experience’ was a lot of fun (but admittedly it’s near impossible for me to look beyond the result at the moment).

After a big day on the road yesterday we took it easy and only made our way towards the city around 5pm. The hire car in our possession this week makes matters a whole lot easier.

We parked a few blocks away from the stadium and set off on foot (think East Melbourne or Richmond for my fellow Melburnians).

The biggest difference between Auckland and Melbourne is that the former is not as adept as staging events. We hit the main street adjacent to Eden Park and you couldn’t get a drink ANYWHERE, but it wasn’t through a lack of bars! The handful of drinking establishments were brimming to capacity with queues of 30 snaking along the street in the driving rain.

Of course I don’t expect capacities to magically expand, but I don’t believe these venues were anywhere near ready for the onslaught of foot traffic and thirsty mouths moving through the area.

After a 20 minute wait we had to settle for a small tapas place (which was nice), but the original plan was to meet some friends in a bar and head to the game. Nevertheless – a bottle of wine, three Stellas and a new friendship with the elderly Auckland couple that we table-shared with later, and we were on our way.


The Wallabies weren’t even straight from the very beginning

Unlike our fortunate position on opening night, our seats were in the nosebleeds at the top of Eden Park’s scaffolding seating! Each end of the stadium has a significant area of temporary seating erected for the World Cup and requires quite a climb…


Resisted the urge to throw myself off at full time

Despite being a mile away from the action, the endzone view is actually quite good. It allows you to see the lines the players run and catch a glimpse of any holes that open up in the line (which were few and far between tonight).

The thing that struck me most was the sheer amount of support for Ireland. I’m not exaggerating in saying that 75-80% of Eden Park was green. Of that number, I estimate that just 10% would have been traveling Irish supporters. The other 90% comprised of devout New Zealanders supporting anyone who squared off against Australia.

I understand the logic on face value and admit to doing the same from time to time, but I don’t think most of them fully grasped the situation. An Irish win would place Australia on the same side of the draw as the All Blacks and while the Wallabies looked anything but formidable tonight, no Kiwi would want to face the Wallabies prior to the Final. Nevertheless, they were happy to scream for the Irish and celebrated long into the night with the win. Good on them, but I don’t think they could see past their rivalry for the greater good.

I got talking to a friendly group of locals who sat adjacent to me. While the Aussie/Kiwi banter inevitably arose, they were a load of fun and made an otherwise depressing night bearable.

As the full time whistle sounded around Eden Park, they looked at me sitting forlornly in my seat and said “Hey Aussie, I think you need a beer” and offered me their last can of Heineken. Don’t listen to anyone who says that all New Zealanders are bad!


Lambs to the slaughter

Some four hours after the game I’m still sitting here wondering what the hell happened. Did we take Ireland too lightly? Surely not. I simply think it was a matter of not being able to match the desire of our opponents on the night. That’s sport. That’s why we follow this magnificent caper. But from an Australian perspective, it’s simply not good enough.

I’ve been here since September 8 and will be here until October 24. I can accept the peaks and troughs, but what of the army of Australians who flew over for the weekend? This game was scheduled over a year ago, was clearly the pick of the group and from what I’ve heard, inbound planes throughout Saturday were full of green and gold. I’d be mightily pissed if I’d dropped well over a grand on a big weekend in Auckland to see my national team lay an egg on the world stage. Again, that’s the risk you take, but that’s not even close to what the traveling fans deserved.

Anyway.

Tomorrow we’re on the road again – this time to Napier. It’s pretty much situated at the same latitude as New Plymouth, but down along the south-eastern coast. I’ve done the drive on numerous occasions and will never tire of the scenery. Taupo is magical and I look forward to re-visiting an area I haven’t seen for close to a decade.

France vs Canada kicks off on Sunday night and while it’s likely to be a one-sided game, the Canucks showed enough against Tonga to give me confidence that they can stick around for a while. At the very least, hopefully the town is going off like New Plymouth was!

Regardless, Monday’s lunch is something we’ve been looking forward to for a while. If you’ve ever enjoyed wine from the Hawkes Bay region, chances are you’ve wrapped your lips around a drop of Craggy Range. Check out the lunch menu, get jealous and remember it when you’re starting to get hungry on Monday morning. We’ll be there.

I’ll report back on my return. Until then, stay gold, move forward with blind faith and drink up.

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September 17th, 2011

Vodka and Eagles and Bears, Oh My!

The sun hadn’t even peeked out from beyond the eastern horizon on Wednesday morning and we were already up and on our way. Destination? The fine region of Taranaki.

Situated in the south-eastern corner of the North Island, Taranaki is home to New Plymouth which was slated to host three Rugby World Cup games.

When first reviewing the RWC schedule in mid 2010, Russia vs USA actually leapt off the page. Aside from the obvious ‘big ticket’ games such as Australia vs Ireland and New Zealand vs France, the ‘Cold War Clash’ was exciting for so many reasons. It was Russia’s debut on the biggest stage, Melbourne Rebels player Adam Byrnes had been selected by the Bears, it allowed us to explore a new region of NZ and it actually loomed to be a closely fought contest!

The drive south took us through Hamilton which was gearing up to host a big World Cup game of its own. The town was hosting the All Blacks on Friday night and there was a heightened sense of excitement as we stopped for breakfast.

The road out of Hamilton took us past Waikato Stadium where a large bus was stopped in a car park. Recognising this as an official team bus we pulled over for a look and lo and behold, the All Blacks were completing a training session! Conditions were nasty again, so they were doing running and passing drills behind closed doors in a sports arena adjacent to the stadium. We hung around for a peek before security spied us and asked us to move on.

Some three hours later (after driving through some very picturesque scenery) we pulled into New Plymouth.

I saw this sign on the side of a barn and had to stop. We trespassed through a paddock and evaded sheep to get the shot. Totally worth it!

Sadly the Taranaki weather was miserable for most of our stay. There’s a mountain just out of town with spectacular snow-capped peaks, but it was shrouded in cloud for the duration! Unfortunate, but it couldn’t be helped and the locals did what they could to make the weather a moot point.

While not large by any means, the main street of New Plymouth was bustling with activity. Local businesses had also come to the party, decorating their storefronts in the colours of Russia, USA, Wales and Namibia; the five nations that were playing World Cup games in Taranaki. Take a bow New Plymouth. We couldn’t have been made to feel any more welcome and ‘in the mood’ for rugby!

Prior to Thursday’s game we were fortunate enough to catch up with Melbourne’s own Adam Byrnes.

The only ‘non-Russian’ selected in the team, Adam is eligible by way of the fact that he has Russian grandparents. We met for a coffee at the Russian team hotel and had a chat about his experience. He’s also the only player on the team who doesn’t speak Russian but has picked up key phrases and signals for communicating on the field. This is Russia’s first ever World Cup appearance so it was pretty special for him to be in the inaugural team and we were delighted to be able to share the experience. Because he’s such a great bloke, he even kitted us out in Russian team gear. Champion!

After a drive down the coast and some more exploration, we returned to town and prepared for the game.

The life, colour and vibrancy throughout New Plymouth blew us away. It was a giant party and everyone was invited! There were Russians, Americans, New Zealanders and everyone else in between masquerading as Russians or Americans.

Although scrappy at times, the game itself was closely fought and great fun to watch. A lot can be said about watching matches between ‘second tier’ teams. While we all love seeing the world-class players of New Zealand, Australia, South Africa etc. do their thing, it’s so refreshing and uplifting to see these smaller (and equally as hungry) teams battle it out to make their presence felt on the world stage.

Sadly for Russia they weren’t able to match the United States on the night. It was a valiant debut and I look forward to seeing what they can muster against Italy, Ireland and Australia – although this was probably their only winnable game.

Fellow Melbourne Rebels fans Gav and Stu were coming to New Zealand for Australia’s clash with Ireland on Saturday night but it didn’t take much arm-twisting to alter their itinerary to include this game upon hearing Adam had been selected. After a brief transit delay, the lads arrived with bells on.

Adam started the game on the bench but was brought on early in the second half.

It was actually quite amusing to hear the pre-game team introductions;

Names like… Sergey, Vadislav, Ivan, Vyacheslav, Yury, and then…. Adam Byrnes. Ha!

Despite being DRENCHED by torrential rain at half time, it was a thoroughly enjoyable experience.

We walked back into town, cleaned ourselves up and put our party shoes on. Although there were only three or four main pubs/bars, all of them were heaving. A minor hiccup was averted by managing to talk my way inside with an Australian license (meant to have passport ID) but then it was on like Donkey Kong.

After arriving, someone walked up to me and said, “Excuse me… but I think I follow you on Twitter!” A couple of questions later and it was verified. What a small, small, small world! It totally blew my mind. I also caught up with Taranaki Rugby’s Commercial Manager, Geoff Hitchcock, who I also know through Twitter. It truly is a magnificent medium for reaching out and making new connections.

Our night ended at Subway for a cheeky chicken fillet around 4am where we crossed paths with big Wellington Hurricanes lock Jason Eaton. A good way to end the night!

Goodness knows how we managed to get up and about on Friday morning, but we did – even if the drive back north was full of peaks, troughs, twists and turns! Extremely beautiful countryside but not all that fun after only a couple of hours in bed.

Not long into the trip we passed a local rugby club. While not appearing much on the surface, I absolutely loved the country charm of the quaint little field nestled into a valley near the sea. It’s stopping to appreciate small things like this which make travel so worthwhile.

It also wouldn’t be a trip to New Zealand without sheep, ‘fush and chups’ and a stop at the small a small town famous for a Kiwi soft drink, right?

So now we’re back in Auckland and preparing for Saturday night’s monster clash between Australia and Ireland. The winner of this match should top the pool, so there’s all to play for. I fancy the Wallabies to get it done, but it might be a little closer than most expect when taking injuries and some potential weather into consideration. I just know that whatever the outcome, Auckland will be gold tonight.

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