So. That was a weekend.
I'm still trying to wrap my head around it, and I'm not sure I'm going to be able to put it into proper perspective for quite some time, but let's see what I can do here.
FRIDAY: The Precursor
Off work by 4, on the road by 4:30, in possession of road soda by 4:31, into Newcastle by 7. We check into our apartment, and it's MASSIVE. ("Massive" as in we didn't know what to do with all the space. "Massive" as in I'm not sure what the designers knew what to do with it either; there was just random open space that served no discernable purpose. "Massive" as in there were a seemingly endless amount of balconies, including one that we didn't even find until the last day.) We cab it over to the other apartment that the rest of the group is staying in, get some Harry's meat pies* for dinner, watch some Rugby League for a bit, run through the rules of the Decathlon and we're off. After a short stint at one bar, we end up at Fanny's. Fanny's is a madhouse. Just one of those wild clubs where everyone is having slightly more fun than normal.** So we do as well. Sometime around 3 or 4 or 5, I head off with Yogi, who thinks it's a great idea to walk back to the apartment. Except that it takes FOREVER. So I bitch most of the way. Fortunately, we're also able to entertain ourselves by pissing off a woman in a hotel and belting -- nay, screaching -- out "Roxanne." Excellent times.
*You may remember my search for Harry's meat pies back in September. There are two locations in Sydney , but it took a trip to Newcastle for me to finally make it there. And I'd be grossly lying if I said this was the only time during the trip that I went. Grossly.
I'm still trying to wrap my head around it, and I'm not sure I'm going to be able to put it into proper perspective for quite some time, but let's see what I can do here.
FRIDAY: The Precursor
Off work by 4, on the road by 4:30, in possession of road soda by 4:31, into Newcastle by 7. We check into our apartment, and it's MASSIVE. ("Massive" as in we didn't know what to do with all the space. "Massive" as in I'm not sure what the designers knew what to do with it either; there was just random open space that served no discernable purpose. "Massive" as in there were a seemingly endless amount of balconies, including one that we didn't even find until the last day.) We cab it over to the other apartment that the rest of the group is staying in, get some Harry's meat pies* for dinner, watch some Rugby League for a bit, run through the rules of the Decathlon and we're off. After a short stint at one bar, we end up at Fanny's. Fanny's is a madhouse. Just one of those wild clubs where everyone is having slightly more fun than normal.** So we do as well. Sometime around 3 or 4 or 5, I head off with Yogi, who thinks it's a great idea to walk back to the apartment. Except that it takes FOREVER. So I bitch most of the way. Fortunately, we're also able to entertain ourselves by pissing off a woman in a hotel and belting -- nay, screaching -- out "Roxanne." Excellent times.
*You may remember my search for Harry's meat pies back in September. There are two locations in Sydney , but it took a trip to Newcastle for me to finally make it there. And I'd be grossly lying if I said this was the only time during the trip that I went. Grossly.
**If Fanny's were an amplifier, it would absolutely go to 11.
SATURDAY: The Main Event
Up by 9, and I probably could blow a 0.153 on a breathalyzer. But there's no time for surrendering myself at the local police station, because we have the Inaugural Fumblers-B Newy Decathlon! And I'm psyched. Beyond psyched. For what started out as a random brain fart with some friends had turned into a well-planned, full-day affair, with spreadsheets, timetables and everything. So let's get to it!
1. Test match pokies – For those who don't know, a "pokie" is Aussie lingo for a slot machine. So for our first event, we marched on down to the local RSL*, each claimed a seat in front of a one cent machine, placed a dollar in and held down the "Bet" button. First person to two dollars got 15 points, second person got 14 and so on. On the other end, first person to zero dollars got zero points, second person got 1 and so on. After a certain amount of time, we simply ranked anyone else still in the game. Me? With one hand on the "Bet" button and the other scarfing down one of the best bacon and egg sandwiches I've ever had,** I quickly began losing money. But after being on the verge of zeroing out and flirting with single digits, I somehow rallied and stayed in the game long enough to end up with nine points. And it wasn't lost on me that nine is my lucky number. It was going to be a good day.
*Don't worry about what this stands for. All you have to know is that an RSL generally caters to old people, has cheap food and drinks and, yes, offers multiple forms of gambling (i.e., pokies, sports book, keno, etc.). Although no table games. Needless to say, we spent much of our day here.
SATURDAY: The Main Event
Up by 9, and I probably could blow a 0.153 on a breathalyzer. But there's no time for surrendering myself at the local police station, because we have the Inaugural Fumblers-B Newy Decathlon! And I'm psyched. Beyond psyched. For what started out as a random brain fart with some friends had turned into a well-planned, full-day affair, with spreadsheets, timetables and everything. So let's get to it!
1. Test match pokies – For those who don't know, a "pokie" is Aussie lingo for a slot machine. So for our first event, we marched on down to the local RSL*, each claimed a seat in front of a one cent machine, placed a dollar in and held down the "Bet" button. First person to two dollars got 15 points, second person got 14 and so on. On the other end, first person to zero dollars got zero points, second person got 1 and so on. After a certain amount of time, we simply ranked anyone else still in the game. Me? With one hand on the "Bet" button and the other scarfing down one of the best bacon and egg sandwiches I've ever had,** I quickly began losing money. But after being on the verge of zeroing out and flirting with single digits, I somehow rallied and stayed in the game long enough to end up with nine points. And it wasn't lost on me that nine is my lucky number. It was going to be a good day.*Don't worry about what this stands for. All you have to know is that an RSL generally caters to old people, has cheap food and drinks and, yes, offers multiple forms of gambling (i.e., pokies, sports book, keno, etc.). Although no table games. Needless to say, we spent much of our day here.
**I'm not sure exactly where it would rank, but I can promise you that even if it's second, it's far, far, FAR away from Bui's.
2. Go-karting – The competition here was simple enough, as the track we went to recorded everyone's fastest lap times. So although most of us were probably still over the legal limit to drive, we ran around in circles like maniacs for about 15 minutes. Unfortunately, with the track being wet due to some rain the night before (at least this was our excuse), people were constantly spinning out and I'm not sure we ever had a clean lap. Regardless, we finished, got our results and I finished with ten points. Looking respectable so far!
3. Mini golf – A hundred feet away from go-karting sat mini golf. So that was an easy transition. We split up into four groups and played through one of the most shocking courses ever. It was like the dude who designed the course ran out of ideas after four holes and just repeated every hole from there on out. And I'm pretty sure the artificial turf hadn't been replaced since Gough Whitlam was in office.* But we battled through the conditions, and as I put together a nice string of 2s on the front nine, I began to set my sights on taking this event. For as the undisputed pitch and putt champion of the world, I should be able to take down a bunch of hungover yokels, right? And shortly thereafter, I fell apart on a hole, finished with an 8, thus ruining any chances I had. Although I still ended up with a respectable ten on the event, thus giving me 29 of a possible 45 in the first three events. Not horrible.
*Obscure reference to Australian-culture-that-zero-people-in-America-will-get alert!
I should also note that it was somewhere in here, in transit to our next event, that Maz and I began to scream at anyone from the car window, "GO THE KNIGHTS!" The Nights, of course (or not "of course" at all, no one in the US would know this), being the Rugby League team from Newcastle. Strangely, not one person reacted to this and instead gave us the most bewildered stares ever. Even the people working at Energy Australia Stadium, home of the Knights and the location of the go-karting and mini golf, didn't seem to care.
Quick break for lunch back at the RSL. Noodles with dodgy chicken and satay sauce. (Fortunately, the chicken looked dodgier than it tasted and never came back to haunt me. Yet.)
4. RSLten30 – Pretty simple rules, actually. You have $10 to gamble in any way you'd like over the course of 30 minutes. At the end of the half hour, everyone's ranked based on how much money they have. At this point, I had developed quite the nasty headache, so I just plopped down at an automated blackjack game and lost myself in it for 25 minutes. Betting only $1 hands, I was up by $7 or $8 at one point and then came back to Earth, finishing with $5.50. This would turn out to be enough money to finish fourth in the group and get 12 points. (Yes, that's right -- I lost $4.50 and finished fourth! In fact, I'd say three or four people had lost all their money within about three minutes. And at the end of the half hour, eight of us had lost all their money, thus netting them all zero points! The lesson, as always? Don't gamble.)
This concluded the day portion of the Decathlon and we headed back to the apartments. The weak slept, and ended up receiving some serious points deductions for showing up for the next event late. The strong drank. We reconvened in the late afternoon and kicked off the festivities with the cricket presentations. I could go into detail here, but let's face it: for all you in the US, no one cares about that. (In fact, I doubt anyone has made it this far.) Suffice it to say people were honored, people were made fun of and people were forced to drink.
And I'm going to finish Volume 1 here, mostly because I'd like to post something on the trip this week. And with a four day work week (thank yoooouuuu Anzac Day!), this is my last chance. Because Friday will be consumed with shovelling Anzac Biscuits down my throat and playing Two-up. So here you are. The thrilling conclusion to come early next week.
2. Go-karting – The competition here was simple enough, as the track we went to recorded everyone's fastest lap times. So although most of us were probably still over the legal limit to drive, we ran around in circles like maniacs for about 15 minutes. Unfortunately, with the track being wet due to some rain the night before (at least this was our excuse), people were constantly spinning out and I'm not sure we ever had a clean lap. Regardless, we finished, got our results and I finished with ten points. Looking respectable so far!
3. Mini golf – A hundred feet away from go-karting sat mini golf. So that was an easy transition. We split up into four groups and played through one of the most shocking courses ever. It was like the dude who designed the course ran out of ideas after four holes and just repeated every hole from there on out. And I'm pretty sure the artificial turf hadn't been replaced since Gough Whitlam was in office.* But we battled through the conditions, and as I put together a nice string of 2s on the front nine, I began to set my sights on taking this event. For as the undisputed pitch and putt champion of the world, I should be able to take down a bunch of hungover yokels, right? And shortly thereafter, I fell apart on a hole, finished with an 8, thus ruining any chances I had. Although I still ended up with a respectable ten on the event, thus giving me 29 of a possible 45 in the first three events. Not horrible.*Obscure reference to Australian-culture-that-zero-people-in-America-will-get alert!
I should also note that it was somewhere in here, in transit to our next event, that Maz and I began to scream at anyone from the car window, "GO THE KNIGHTS!" The Nights, of course (or not "of course" at all, no one in the US would know this), being the Rugby League team from Newcastle. Strangely, not one person reacted to this and instead gave us the most bewildered stares ever. Even the people working at Energy Australia Stadium, home of the Knights and the location of the go-karting and mini golf, didn't seem to care.
Quick break for lunch back at the RSL. Noodles with dodgy chicken and satay sauce. (Fortunately, the chicken looked dodgier than it tasted and never came back to haunt me. Yet.)
4. RSLten30 – Pretty simple rules, actually. You have $10 to gamble in any way you'd like over the course of 30 minutes. At the end of the half hour, everyone's ranked based on how much money they have. At this point, I had developed quite the nasty headache, so I just plopped down at an automated blackjack game and lost myself in it for 25 minutes. Betting only $1 hands, I was up by $7 or $8 at one point and then came back to Earth, finishing with $5.50. This would turn out to be enough money to finish fourth in the group and get 12 points. (Yes, that's right -- I lost $4.50 and finished fourth! In fact, I'd say three or four people had lost all their money within about three minutes. And at the end of the half hour, eight of us had lost all their money, thus netting them all zero points! The lesson, as always? Don't gamble.)
This concluded the day portion of the Decathlon and we headed back to the apartments. The weak slept, and ended up receiving some serious points deductions for showing up for the next event late. The strong drank. We reconvened in the late afternoon and kicked off the festivities with the cricket presentations. I could go into detail here, but let's face it: for all you in the US, no one cares about that. (In fact, I doubt anyone has made it this far.) Suffice it to say people were honored, people were made fun of and people were forced to drink.
And I'm going to finish Volume 1 here, mostly because I'd like to post something on the trip this week. And with a four day work week (thank yoooouuuu Anzac Day!), this is my last chance. Because Friday will be consumed with shovelling Anzac Biscuits down my throat and playing Two-up. So here you are. The thrilling conclusion to come early next week.
