Dangerous Dave's Travel Blog

Something to sink my teeth into....

2007-04-05T01:17:00.000+10:00

After Easter, I will be starting a new job... a proper job.... one which requires research on sites other than soccernet and youtube. I'm off the Lovells gravy train, my ticket has expired and Phil Packet has agreed to take my seat.

I'm starting at Taylor Wessing as an Associate in their Construction and Engineering team. Sounds fancy, I know, but I'm actually really excited about finally getting a chance to use my grey matter in the area of law I've always wanted to really have a go at. Let's hope my noggin still works!

But don't fret, I won't forget the little people who've got me to where I am today.

Where am I today? No seriously, where am I?

And who took my pants?!?!

Fritz

2007-04-05T01:05:00.000+10:00

This coming June, I'm planning to ride a motorcycle with Reg and Andy and Ant to Barcelona for the Sonar Music and Art festival and come back over the Pyrenees and through France. It will be a short two week adventure for me but getting on a bike again is something I've craved since my ride through the highlands of northern Vietnam.

And so, I give you, Fritz - my 1981 BMW R100 machine.

He's a 1000cc workhorse ready to rock and/or roll. I've bought him now so we can get to know one another better and also ride to the All Tomorrow's Parties festival in Wales at the end of April. You can see Reg's Kawasaki Zephr in the backround of this shot.

Stay tuned for more Dave and Fritz adventure stories.

Da Skrik

2007-04-05T00:58:00.000+10:00

One highlight of going to Oslo was getting to see Edvard Munch's painting The Scream (or Skrik in Norwegian). When you enter the room in the National Gallery where it hangs, it kind of reaches out to you from the wall and draws you into it's horror. When Munch wrote about the painting in his diary, he said:

"I was walking along a path with two friends—the sun was setting—suddenly the sky turned blood red—I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence—there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city—my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety—and I sensed an infinite scream passing through nature."

Sounds like most of my hangovers.

Around the corner from the Gallery was this street art on the side of a building. I don't take photos of artworks so I give you this instead.

Oslo cancelled

2007-04-04T02:11:00.000+10:00

What do you do when you miss out on tickets to a gig in London? Why, you buy tickets to the Oslo show of course!

When I didn't get tickets to the Arcade Fire show over here, I chucked a tanty, dropped my toys, stormed out of the sandpit, and then brushed myself off and arranged a trip to Oslo to see them. Well, it wasn't all that random because I also arranged to meet up with Andi, a classy broad from Saskatchewan I met when I was in Vienna at Christmas, who happens to live in Norway and also like Arcade Fire. I actually ended up getting a spare ticket to one of the London shows but still went along to the land of smelly fish to see Andi. And it was lucky because when we arrived at the venue, some very nice but very sheepish Norwegian people explained that the show had been CANCELLED along with the rest of the European tour as the lead singer had a 'sinus infection'. How un-rock is that!?!

Anyway, I still got to hang out with Andi which was a total blast, especially the walk in the park with the dumpy naked sculptures and the big stone wang!

Here's me looking all pensive about stuff, totally out of character.

The Black Keys

2007-04-04T01:58:00.000+10:00

In 2002, two boys from Arkon Ohio are mowing lawns on low rent properties, saving cash for their first tour. Back in 01, they bashed out a few tracks for a debut EP when another band didn't show for their allotted studio time.

Thank god those punks didn't show and these guys got a break! These boys rawk! Got to see them at the Shepherd Bush Empire in March and was gobsmacked the whole show.

It's amazing to hear the rich, fuzzed out, deep dish sounds they can fashion out of one guitar and a set of drums. You keep looking to side of stage to find the third member hiding behind the curtain, playing bass or a second guitar or something so you can shout "Aha! Got ya!" but no, it's just Dan fishing demons out of his geetar and Patrick belting the beejesus out of his drums.

Quality.

Burlesque baby!

2007-04-04T01:55:00.000+10:00

Princeton University defines burlesque as - a theatrical entertainment of broad and earthy humor; consists of comic skits and short turns (and sometimes striptease).

Being a man of the arts, I thought I should get along and get meself some kulcha!

Get in the ring

2007-04-04T01:30:00.000+10:00

These burlesque nights are held one Friday a month at the Bethnal Green Workingman's Club, for whom I play football on Sundays.

It was a real eye opener to see the auditorium used for such 'classy entertainment' given the downstairs bar is more like the Penthurst RSL circa 1971.

As you can see, the parties have a circus theme and most of the punters dress up. I went as a snake charmer while Karen and Rachel came as Ringmistresses, complete with whips and satin gloves. We like.

All in all, good wholesome fun with a really accepting and positive crew, which can sometimes be a rarity in London.

Friends

2007-04-04T01:19:00.000+10:00

It's amazing how many friends you can make with a snake.

My 'friend' on the far right thought I looked like Joey Tribianni from Friends and kept coming up to me all night saying 'Howyoudooin?'

Like I said, it's amazing how many friends you can make with a snake.

Carny folk

2007-04-04T01:14:00.000+10:00

Roll up! Roll up!

See Spidey Girl and The Tatooed Lady fight for burlesque supremacy!

Watch Dave make a complete arse of himself on the dancefloor (see above)!

Me and Seth

2007-04-04T01:05:00.000+10:00

Every Mav needs a Goose,

Every gunner, a wingman.

Every man needs a snake.

I have mine. His name is Sssssssssssssssettttttttttthhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Howling Bells

2007-04-03T02:39:00.000+10:00

When I was back in Sydney, I made a concerted effort to stash up on new Aussie music as that's something I really miss over here. You guys back home just don't know what a great resource JJJ is, not just for new music and news on tours etc, but also the fact that it's national and puts a lot of energy into regional shows and music.

After a few hours of R+D in HMV Pitt Street and Fish Records Newtown, I came up with a few pearler albums which I whole heartedly recommend: debuts from Goyte and Snowman, an EP from Midnight Juggernaughts, new Sarah Blasko and The Grates albums...but the one album I couldn't get out of the cd player in my hire car was the debut from Howling Bells. It's a cracker and if you don't have it, get out and buy it now.

I'll admit I've been in love with Juanita Stein for some time now and I know, someday, she will realise she is in love with me. Until then, I will pine for her attention and buy her albums and write her poetry and stalk her house (only jokes about the stalking stuff...and the poetry....they're just words that rhyme.)

Over here I had the pleasure of catching Howling Bells play their first London gig at Koko's in Camden which is my new favourite venue. They quite successfully rocked and/or rolled and I was proud of Juanita and the boys for giving it up Oz style!

Boxes

2007-03-22T03:50:00.000+11:00

I had a list of things I wanted to do and places I wanted to re-visit when I was back in Sydney this year and on the whole, I ticked most of the boxes.

Things like having a gelato at Ciccio's shop in Newtown, lunch at Il Piave (my favourite restaurant in the world) including two servings of Vanessa's amazing tiramisu, playing golf/losing golf balls with Roggie, giving the yum cha waitresses a hard time with Ricardo, getting a tiger pie at Harry's Cafe de Wheels, slapping Sarge, trying to get Georgia to like me more than Aj, trying to get Mia to remember me, meeting Mark and Maria's new son Michael, dinner at Daniella and Michael's, seeing my parents and grandparents and all the other family malarky.

No doubt I ran out of time to get it all in but I did have a decent crack at it. I'd been away from Sydney for fourteen months and not been homesick once. Being home still didn't do it for me so I guess I'm just not ready to go back.

I've got too many boxes to tick over here yet. Better crack on.

Epi besdai Poppo!

2007-03-22T03:36:00.000+11:00

A few years ago, I received a birthday card from my grandparents (with more money in it than they should have given me but you can't say no to grandparents) and the card read "Davide, Epi Besdai, Nonna e Poppo".

For those requiring a translation, Davide is my name in Italian, Nonna e Poppo are the names we use for my dad's mum and dad, and 'Epi Besdai' is one of those beautifully funny phrases that comes from the english used by first generation Italian migrants. Say it out loud. You'll get what I mean.

9 February is the birthday of both of my grandfathers. Unfortunately my mum's dad, Nonno, is no longer with us, but my dad's dad, Poppo, turned 85 this year. He's fighting fit, could fix any lawnmower no matter how out of shape it is. And as you can see from this shot, he loves his brandy.

I mean lurves it!

The Partidge Family

2007-03-22T03:32:00.000+11:00

Hello world here's a song that we're singing.....come on get happy!

A whole lot of lovin' is what we'll be bringing....we'll make you happy!

Touch me...touch me...I wanna feel your body

2007-03-22T03:24:00.000+11:00

Just to make ends meet, I helped Ricardo and Gilesyboy with a modelling shoot while I was back in Sydney. I'm just that kind of guy.

If you look closely, you can see I'm channelling Melissa Tkautz...."Do it! Read my lips..."

Ris

2007-03-22T03:19:00.000+11:00

I've checked. This is the first time Marissa has appeared in my blog. There are reasons for that which for the most part, thankfully, are behind us both now.

This is one of the best photos I've ever taken of Ris (probably helped by the fact that my head is only half in it). She'll disagree and say she looks fat or ugly but it's my blog so bad luck!

I guess if you you're going to make an entrance, it may as well be a grand one. Nice one Rissi Rissi.

Sarge-at-Arms and Sir Dangerous ride again!

2007-03-22T03:13:00.000+11:00

You may remember Sarge and I from such previous episodes as "Dude, where's my 1981 Volkswagon Campervan?" and "Sarge and Dave's Totally Excellent Adventure except when all their bags were stolen by Spanish crackheads".

Well here we are again, reunited and as you can see, still very much in love.

Father of the Bump

2007-03-22T03:08:00.000+11:00

No! Not me! Mr Aj Buddayah Petracca on the left there.

Honestly, is it just me or should some government department be notified.

Relax Dave, someone's just spiked his drink with Wizz Fizz.

The bump

2007-03-22T03:03:00.000+11:00

While I was overseas, Aj and Rita decided to finally get jiggy wit it and produce an heir to the Buddayah Empire.

Here's the result - a bump.

Frankly my gut looks like that after 9 pints of bitter and two kebabs on the way home from watching football but apparently Rita's bump kicks, in a nice way.

I'm in love - Part 2

2007-03-22T02:55:00.000+11:00

Mia Movizio.

Another goddaughter, another goddess.

She's sharp as a tack and happy as Larry. Who is this Larry guy? And why is he always happy?

I digress.

Ah Mia....

I'm in love - Part 1

2007-03-22T02:51:00.000+11:00

It's true, I'm in love with my goddaughter Georgia.

Ok, she has some attention issues i.e. she must have your attention NOW UNCLE DAVE but hey, in my experience all women operate from this platform it's just that at a later age they are less direct about it.

She also has a perchant for getting naked reguarly. As her 'spiritual guide', I'll have to work on that one.

Uncle Dave missed you Georgia. Don't grow up too quick kiddo.

Great genes

2007-03-22T02:45:00.000+11:00

Growing up in an Italian family means you keep in contact with all sorts of extended family members. Everyone sends a wedding invite to that geriatric couple who lent milk to your great grandmother's sister in law during the depression, right?

Well I love my extended family. I especially love Julie, my mum's mum's sister's daughter, which I think technically makes us second cousins, once removed.

To hell with the semantics, just look at that gorgeous cousin of mine. Steady on boys, she's taken. And no, it's not THAT type of family.

My photographer

2007-03-22T02:37:00.000+11:00

There is a very good reason why I don't have any good photos of Bel and Matt's wedding.

May I introduce you to my photographer - Mark The Jacketless Sirloin Wonder Yacht Skipper Rogers.

This man has two children.

I fear for their future.

The real reason I came home

2007-03-22T02:22:00.000+11:00

On 3 February 2007, my baby sister Belinda shrugged off that mantle and married her sweetheart Matthew. I was honoured to be at their wedding which (much to Belinda's relief) all went to plan.

But even more special than attending their wedding was the time I got to spend with Belinda and Matt both before and after their big day. I'd met Matt before, plenty of times, I mean the bloke was ALWAYS over at my parent's house visiting Bel. But to be honest, I didn't really know him. To me, he was always a 'nice guy' who was 'good to my sister' and that was 'all that was important'. But during my trip home Matt and I became much closer, close enough to be proper brothers-in-law and that helped me understand why my little sister loves him enough to marry him. I can only put it this way - in Matt, I see all the best qualities I see in my dad and that's why it makes perfect sense that Belinda loves him.

And as for Belinda, my little sis, what a gift it was to see her all grown up into a beautiful, confident woman and now........wife.

Wow.

Once upon a time....

2007-03-22T02:18:00.000+11:00

....I was a good looking lad. No, stop laughing, it's true. I had a healthy head of hair, a wardrobe of clothes in the style of the day, women fought for my attention.

It's all different now though....my wardrobe needs updating.

Gilesyboy!

2007-03-22T02:15:00.000+11:00

Ladies and gents, I give you the one, the only, Andrew Giles OBE (awarded for selfless research into Brazilian supermodel mating patterns).

His future's so bright....he's gotta wear shades.

Girls, please form an orderly line.

Little Creatures

2007-03-22T02:10:00.000+11:00

Apparently my taste buds had forgotten just how good Aussie beer can taste.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm..........................Little Creatures Pale Ale.

The Way of the Intercepting Fist

2007-03-22T02:07:00.000+11:00

Proof Ricardo would have taken that barman down...taken him down to Chinatown!

Put him in a body bag Johnny!

Gratuitous shot of Sydney

2007-03-22T01:43:00.000+11:00

Good old Sydney town made an proper Justin Timberlake attempt to 'bring sexy back' when I returned to those fair shores in January. It was easy to forget the cold and wind I'd left behind in London when Bennelong Point turns on a glorious afternoon like this.

Ricardo had an interesting conversation with the barman over regarding the availability of a lychee caipiroska....it almost came to blows....almost.

I'm coming back baby, you know it!

2007-01-19T03:13:00.000+11:00

As you read this (hurried) update of my travel blog, I'm on a big thing with wings coming home to Sydney for three weeks of Dangerousness.

So for those of you in Sydney, take a moment now to sit in a quiet place, close your eyes, clear your mind and ask yourself this simple question:

"Am I ready?"

Well?

Are you?

Camsterdamage

2007-01-19T03:08:00.000+11:00

Two men. Four days. Three space cakes. Endless giggles.

This is the only photo of Kenny and I together during our recent trip to Amsterdam. We just kind of forgot to get that sorted until we were at the train station about to head back to the airport for our return flight. Can't understand why.

Must have been the presence of greatness Kenny.

De Dam

2007-01-19T02:59:00.000+11:00

This was my second trip to Amsterdam having spent Easter 06 with Frank and Miki. Cam and I stayed with Miki this time but Frank was in Oz.

Ha ha. Frank...Oz....Frank Oz.....like the Muppets guy.....oh you don't know funny from nothing!

Ouch...

2007-01-19T02:55:00.000+11:00

...the aftermath.....

...good party....

...big mess....

Welcome 2007.

My downstairs neighbours

2007-01-19T02:41:00.000+11:00

Neighbours....everybody needs mashed neighbours!

Libs and Lolli

2007-01-19T02:05:00.000+11:00

Every NYE party needs talent.

Guns show

2007-01-19T02:02:00.000+11:00

Got yer tix?

Two Live Crew

2007-01-19T02:00:00.000+11:00

Ant and Muzz.

A force to be reckoned with, I reckon.

Last moments of 2006

2007-01-19T01:57:00.000+11:00

She was a good, good year but she had to go and I was given the honour of counting her out.

10, 9, 8, 7.......what was I up to?...

Did someone say partay?!?!

2007-01-19T01:54:00.000+11:00

The flat in full flight....

I don't recognise any of the people in this shot!

What are all y'all doin in my flat?!?!?

Dangerous Dave deep in....

2007-01-19T01:51:00.000+11:00

er.....conversation....

The happy trio

2007-01-19T01:49:00.000+11:00

Me, Libby and Mel ready to rock and/or rock for the NYE party.

No. It wasn't fancy dress! What gave you that idea?!?

My new flat

2007-01-19T01:44:00.000+11:00

At the end of September, I moved into a very cool flat in Stoke Newington with two English roses, Mel and Libby. It's a split level warehouse conversion so it's open plan downstairs with the three attic bedrooms upstairs. Here's a pic of the flat set up for our NYE party i.e. pre-destruction!

Let's just call it the light store

2007-01-19T01:39:00.000+11:00

Go on. Pronounce the name of this shop. Go on. Do it do it!

Kulcha

2007-01-19T01:36:00.000+11:00

But it wasn't all booze and Vienna by night, we did go see a wonderful orchestral performance on Christmas Eve which was all thanks to Rach's effort and organisation.

Thanks Rach. x

Beer scooter

2007-01-19T01:34:00.000+11:00

Phil caught the beer scooter home one night, taking up his usual spot in the babyseat.

The early starters

2007-01-19T01:27:00.000+11:00

Rach, Charlotte, Phil and I got things off to a rolling start....

Xmas in Vienna

2007-01-19T01:19:00.000+11:00

This was my second Christmas away from home and nothing can replace the warmth and security of family. However, the Orphan's Christmas we put together in Vienna this year went some way to replacing the craziness family can often provide.

My week in Vienna was made up of two very different approaches - the first few days were spent with my lovely newlywed friends Barbara and Andreas who looked after me and graciously gave me some of their time at this busy time of year.....then the loony crew arrived, a manic motley group of party animals from Newcastle, Sydney, Gold Coast, London, Paris, Calgary and even Starvanger in Norway!

It was on for young and old. Every night. My kidneys hurt just thinking about it!

Let's start with a nice photo - Barbara and I at the Xmas Night Market at the Schonbrunn, drinking eggy mulled wine.

Clubbing Claus

2007-01-19T01:17:00.000+11:00

Remember Kenny....see?.....it never stops!

This is Santa in Inferno nightclub in Clapham.

Classy.

Sexy Santas

2007-01-19T01:15:00.000+11:00

Mummy, I can have one of these Santas for Xmas?

Please?

Santas on patrol

2007-01-19T01:10:00.000+11:00

Watch out international troublemakers!

Santa Pub Crawl

2007-01-19T01:02:00.000+11:00

Continuing the 'I'll do anything/drink anytime for charity' theme, along came the Santa Pub Crawl in London to raise money for the Red Cross.

Take 150 odd people, (mostly Aussies, Kiwis and Saffas) add cheap felt Santa suits from Woolworths and mix well with copious alcohol....

The pics tell the rest of the story....

International sign for distress

2007-01-19T00:59:00.000+11:00

Apparently this is how I look when dance.

Must get that looked into.

World Domination Collective

2007-01-19T00:56:00.000+11:00

The whole Oxjam gig could not have happened without the help and support of my fellow world domination collective brethren - Ant, Reg and Andy.

Werd up lads.

Oxjam

2007-01-19T00:45:00.000+11:00

During a boring lull in my highflying paralegal job here in London, I had a conversation with my friend Alison about Oxfam running a promotion to help people put on live music gigs to raise money for the charity.

Out of that little talk came big plans to put organise and promote such a gig, something I've always wanted to try my hand at. Through friends of friends, I booked three bands - Havana Guns, Flowstate and Straight Line Fusion, as well as the ubiquitous Tony Aztek to spin tracks between sets and finish the night.

Just quietly, the night was a complete success and perhaps the most fun I've had in London.

Even more quietly, the subplot to me putting the gig on was to try to land Zoe, the lead singer for the Havana Guns (see photo), but that little plan kind of fell away when I met her fiance at the gig. Boo.

Packet in full flight!

2007-01-19T00:40:00.000+11:00

Somebody shtop him!

Kenny!

2007-01-19T00:36:00.000+11:00

Ladies and Gentlemens,

I introduce you to Mr Cameron Kenny Kenoir Goose Stuart Esq.

That's him on the right. He'll be back for more. It never stops for Kenoir.

Cookie!

2007-01-19T00:33:00.000+11:00

Something a little whiffy Cookie?

Don't worry, I still rove you. x

Boys in the (Clapham Junction) hood

2007-01-19T00:30:00.000+11:00

You wanna piece o' dis?!?!?

Well do ya, punk!?

AFL at the Oval

2007-01-19T00:26:00.000+11:00

Aussie Rules came to London town in October 2006, with the Geelong Cats playing the Port Adelaide Power for...well for nothing...it was just an excuse for an international pissup, as the following photos will exhibit...

Calabrese cool

2007-01-18T23:29:00.000+11:00

Rita is on her way to pop stardom.

Alessandro floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee.

Look out world. It's a calo-revolution.

Calabria October 06

2007-01-18T23:23:00.000+11:00

This was the second trip I made to the mother of motherlands this year, this time with Mum in attendance which made for much easier calabrese interpretation....sort of.

Here's me with the cousins, from left: Francesca, Pasqualino, Pasquale, Me, Rita, Giuseppe, Pasquale, Mariella and Alessandro....I think I got that right?

Mum in London

2007-01-18T23:16:00.000+11:00

After finding my feet again in London, I had the pleasure of a visit from Mum.

Needless to say I ate better that week than I had for months. We did Bath, Windsor Castle, Stonehenge, Mum did most of the other stuff in the rain....

But this is my favourite shot, in the sun, at Portobello Road market.

Love you Mum. x

Working my way 'home'

2007-01-18T23:10:00.000+11:00

The last two weeks of August were spent working my way back to London via Barcelona, Zaragoza (where Wolfgang got towed and it cost me over 200 euros to get him back - thanks, just what I needed!), Pamploma (no bulls in town that day), San Sebastian, Bordeaux, La Rochelle, Mont Sant Michele and then to Dieppe to catch a ferry back to the Old Dart.

I've skipped plenty of detail in getting us to this point but as I write this, I am one day away from flying home for three weeks where I guess I will compile a few more photos for this blog thingy so I'm playing a losing game of catch up.

Suffice to say, that summer was the trip of my lifetime, so far....

King of Palma

2007-01-18T23:06:00.000+11:00

Truth be known, I was already broke when those soulless punks stole all my gear out of the van in Lloret de Mar. Budgeting has never been my strength, unless you count breaking a budget as a strength.

So, part of me said I should hightail it back to London and get work again and start paying my Everest of debt off...but then the rest of me said there was no way I'd be ending my trip on that sour note.

And so it was to Palma I went to catch up with Ris and Colleen and the rest of the deckcrew crew.

As you can see, I was crowned King of the Island. No really.

Wolfgang in Roses

2007-01-18T23:02:00.000+11:00

A match made in heaven.

Miss you big man.

Stuff happens

2007-01-18T22:55:00.000+11:00

After getting fully hectical in Cannes with the Swedes and some daughters of Venezuelan oil barons (seriously), we needed to chill out and if you are ever looking for somewhere to do that, can I humbly recommend Roses on the Costa Brava about 150km north from Barca. There's nothing particularly special there, just a small town a beautiful beach (if you know which one to look for) . Somehow, I found peace there, real peace.

You might recall that Sarge and I had all our belongings stolen in Spain.

As you can see from the photo, we got over it.

Me and Puss

2007-01-18T22:50:00.000+11:00

I had fun in Cannes but most of all I had a ball with Paulina.

Thanks Puss. Keep watching McLeod's Daughters kiddo.

Cannes we do it? Yes we Cannes.

2007-01-18T22:29:00.000+11:00

So, Italy gave us Bari, Napoli, Sorrento, Pompeii, Roma, Siena, Firenze and Cinqueterre....all nice in their own way but it was time for some gallic contribution to this summer of love and what better place than Cannes. I mean it is the place for the rich and famous and after my guest spot on the Today Show during the World Cup, the phone was ringing hot with offers to dj at this party or perform on that yacht. It's tough at the top.

When we arrived in Cannes (via a 1982 VW Campervan lap record around the grand prix circuit in Monaco), Sarge and I planned to stay for just two days. We were very close to being broke, having spent more on than expected on having a good time across Europe. But that plan changed the first day we spent at the beach with four Swedish beauties, one of which Sarge set his sights on.....so a week later we left Cannes amazingly broke, but very, very richer for the experience (as you can see from Sarge's expression).

Vaticano then dash to the coast

2007-01-18T21:49:00.000+11:00

I have to admit that I didn't really enjoy my first trip to the eternal city. Maybe it was the constant, stifling heat. Maybe it was the constant, stiflingly stupid American and German tourist. Maybe I was just having a tough time in the sandpit. Whatever the reason, I think I need a return leg to work it out but one place I did love and was completely in awe of was the Vatican. My god......and yours too. Regardless of what you think of organised religion (my jury is still out), to see such beauty created in devotion to it really took my breath away. St Peter's Square is bigger than you can imagine, St Paul's Basilica swallows you and forces you to revere, to think that Michaelangelo sculpted La Pieta in his early twenties is mind boggling....

Despite that beauty, the heat did eventually get the better of us so Wolfgang whisked us Sydney boys out to the coast, first to a sleepy little holiday town called Follonica where we met Nicola, a nice bloke from Firenze who was about to move to Chipping Norton (?!?!?). From there we did some interior work through Siena and Firenze (including a town fete which for some reason had a bad with go-go girls....something for the dad's to do I guess).....but the heatwave got us again so it was west again to the coast, this time to Cinqueterre - now there is a part of the world created by someone's god.

One anecdote from Cinqueterre - after winding Wolfgang through the tight roads leading down from the hills to the small towns which make up this angelic area, we pulled up stumps in Corniglia, grabbed our towels and walked down about 300 steps to the water. There was sign which said there was beach through a railway tunnel. Intriguing. We walked in and walked and walked and walked....and walked in the dark, often asking each other whether we should turn back. We persevered and finally reached the end of the tunnel and walked out into eye squinting sunshine....the beach we had reached was a nudist beach....which was fine....except that they wanted 5 euros a piece for the honour of getting our nads roasted, which as I tried to explain to 'Il Capitano' was not something I usually carried around in my boardies.

The result? Access denied. And so we walked and walked and walked back through the tunnel and out the other end to a small, but free, beach.

Faye and Darius von Marius

2007-01-18T21:41:00.000+11:00

We met Faye and Darius on the street in Barcelonetta while they were reading a flyer for the Summercase festival and convinced them they should buy a ticket for it and come with us.

Big ups Faye. Easy Darius.

Up the coast and out to Barthelona

2007-01-18T21:25:00.000+11:00

After the glory of the win in Berlin, Italy was in a pretty jovial mood. Not that Sarge and I needed any encouragement. Put it this way, if you were offered the chance to take the summer off, drive around Europe in a campervan, see Australia play at the World Cup and cruise around in the sun afterwards, would you need any help keeping happy? I didn't think so.

When we started the trip in Brugge at the beginning of June, Sarge and I only had three things on our itinerary for the summer - the World Cup games we had tickets for in June, the date Sarge flew home from Madrid in August and in between, a weekend music festival in Barcelona.

Summercase was on in the middle of July and as we were in Rome at that time, we grabbed a flight and left Wolfgang to hang out with the belle ragazze. It was a two day festival at the Parc del Forum just north of the city, featuring a massive lineup including Massive Attack, New Order, Primal Scream and Fatboy Slim. But the highlights for me were Sigur Ros (who played most of their set behind a large white sheet), Cut Copy (Aussie boys holding their own on the world stage) and Happy Mondays (nice dancing Bez).

But the top shelf performance came from those tres chic boys of French electronica....Daft Punk. They played the whole set wearing shiny futuristic helmets and tight leather jumpsuits, spinning tracks atop a huge neon lit pyramid.....magnifique`!

World Cup finale

2007-01-18T20:30:00.000+11:00

We all know how the World Cup ended. The one time in my life where I haven't supported Italy to win the bloody thing and they go on to do it, knocking Australia out along the way. Despite that slight bitter taste in my mouth, being in Italy when they won was an experience I will never ever forget. You cannot underestimate the mania that erupted when the game was over.

After a ferry trip from Dubrovnik to Bari, we drove west across the 'ankle' of Italy to Napoli for what I am sure will be my last visit to that city....I'm sorry but that place is a dump! So we hightailed it south to the Amalfi coast, watched the final in Sorrento and spent a few days lazing in the sun with i tifosi as they basked in the return of the Jules Rimet trophy.

Something to Cro about

2007-01-18T20:26:00.000+11:00

After four days of bridges and castles and dumplings in Prague, Sarge and I finally gave in to our island home needs and headed for the beach. Problem was that Prague is a fair way from any type of beach. Like almost 800km away!

Wolfgang didn't complain though. He dutifully carried us through that afternoon and night, through the Czech south, into Austria through Vienna and Graz, through Slovenia where we were treated to perhaps the sexiest and scariest late night radio voiceover we've ever heard – "Deep down and dirty…yah", and finally to Rijeka, a Croatian port town on the north Adriatic coast. Not much of a beach in sight at 2am but coastline all the same. Sarge drove the next day and I hid in the back of the van while he wound down the tight coastline roads....I'm a bad passenger at the best of times but given Sarge's tendency to drift across the centreline, I laid across the back seat and awaited my fate.

Thankfully, that fate was a cracking 10 days in Croatia, moving through Zadar, Split, across to Hvar island via ferry, then back to the mainland and south to Dubrovnik.

I had some cracking photos of our good times there - Carpe Diem bar on Hvar, teaching Croatians to play cricket in Dubrovnik, DJ Jimmy Scali from Miami....you'll just have to take my word for it.

Onward and eastward

2007-01-18T20:25:00.000+11:00

And so endethed (is that a word? No, I don't believe it is) phase one of the Magical Van Tour with Sarge and Dave aka Wolfgang does Europe aka Dave and Sarge Travel Around Europe in an orange 1982 VW Campervan…ok, that last one was way too long and by now you know what I mean anyway.

After almost four weeks of German beer and meat products, we drove directly east for some Czech beer and meat products. Oh, and potato dumplings. Crossing the border from Germany into the Czech Republic, I remember we hit our first spat of rainy weather on the trip. And in true Murphy's Law style, the first time I used the window wipers, the driver's side one broke, whilst hurtling down a freeway at 70 miles an hour. After a very wet spot of McGyver DIY, I fixed the wiper and arrived in Prague only to be fined 1000 crowns for apparently driving down a pedestrian only street. After explaining to the police officer that I did not speak Czech, he explained there was a sign at the top of the street which indicated it was for pedestrians only. "Is the sign in Czech?" I asked. "Yes" Pavel replied (I don't know if that was his name but is good Czech name yes?). "But I just said I don't speak Czech and I obviously don't read it either." "Bad luck" said Pavel. 1000 crowns it was then. I was already beginning to miss ze Germans.

Sarge and I grabbed an apartment in town and spent a few days in Prague checking out the sites and drinking more beer. I remember it rained most of the time we were there. And I slept a lot. And we met quite possibly the freakiest guy on the whole trip, an Asian guy named Charles who offered to show us where 'local girls worked'. Hmmmm. There's something they don't print in the guide books.

Game 4 - back to Kaiserslautern

2006-10-26T01:43:00.000+10:00

Australia playing Italy at the World Cup had always been a dream match for me - the team of my homeland versus the team of my forefathers. Of course, in my dreams the match was the World Cup final and I scored the winning goal, for Australia, with an audacious overhead kick in the last minute of a hard fought game.

When Sarge and I returned to Kaiserslautern for this second round match, it was like déjà vu, again. We kept running into the same fans. Karl and the Today Show crew kept bugging me for an interview. We kept eating at the same kebab stand.

On the afternoon before the match, a huge hailstorm hit the town with the luminous green clouds so low they looked like they were resting on the stadium. Was it an ominous sign of what was to come for our beloved Socceroos? No, it was a reminder that Dave was an idiot for forgetting to close the sunroof on the van! Not clever Dave.

I spent most of the first half of the match in a state of shock. I couldn't really believe I was watching the game I'd always dreamed of. It's funny how you never really know how you'll react when the fulfilment of one of your dreams is delivered. I guess that's why those actresses cry when they win Oscars, they just don't know what else to do.

I didn't cry. Although I did come close when Grosso pulled a Greg Luganos and won the world's most bullshit penalty to steal our dream. To be completely honest I didn't even see the penalty. I was sitting directly opposite Grosso's left wing, saw him sprint forward with the ball, cut inside into the penalty area, saw Lucas Neill move out towards him and instinctively my head went down into my lap, where it remained until I heard the Italian fans in rapture at Totti putting the ball past Schwartzer.

I was gutted for days. But it was a cracking effort from our boys, playing at our own expectations and above that of others' who for so long wrote us off as forever might-have-beens and almost-made-its.

Dreaming in Stuttgart

2006-10-26T01:41:00.000+10:00

After the game against Croatia, I was sitting in an Italian restaurant in Stuttgart (named Ristorante Petracca in fact) working through some pasta a forno and a nice chianti, trying to talk Italian to the Calabrese owners when a guy walked in and ordered a meal in the same Italian-Australian accent as mine. Turns out he was from Sydney, like me, his family came from Calabria after the war, like mine, and he and his mates who shared the same heritage were all at the Croatia game. Within minutes there were a half dozen of us sitting around talking football, home, Italy and the upcoming game against the Azzurri. At that point of the World Cup, the Italians had not been playing all that well and we fancied us as a chance to beat them in the second round match. We hypothesised that if we beat Italy, we would meet either Ukraine or Switzerland in the quarter finals, both of whom we thought we could beat, meaning we would probably play Argentina in the semi finals………then there was long pause while we all caught our breath and let the wait of what we'd just said sink in………THE SEMI FINALS!?!?!? Are we crazy? What are we talking about? It was incredulous to think Australia could make the final four of the World Cup after so long away, but it was a sign of how far we had come, even in spite of (or perhaps because of) the 32 year absence we had from the tournament.

Of course we know now it was not to be, but it was a beautiful dream to have, no matter how fleeting.

Game 3 - Stuttgart

2006-10-26T01:40:00.000+10:00

I think the game against Croatia in Stuttgart is the most difficult to describe. The first game was dripping in history given how long it had taken us to get back to the World Cup. Against Brazil, it was all about proving our worth and place now that we were back. But with only a draw needed against Croatia to get out of our group, it was a complete siege mentality from the moment we arrived in town. Croatian fans were the cockiest we came across but of course there wasn't a peep out of them after the match. The noise was deafening and relentless, even in comparison to the first two matches and probably just on par with the constant volleys we gave the Uruguayans in Sydney in November 2005. How good was it to see Simunic the traitor being sent off (after being given three yellow cards by Grahame Poll!)?!?!

Another piece of World Cup trivia – after the match had ended, they played AC/DC and Midnight Oil tracks in the stadium and all the Aussie fans headbanged the night away while the chequerboard boys went home weeping!

Then there was the after party put on by Chris Cahill, brother of Super Tim. From what I remember, there were free shots at the door, hundreds of Aussie fans and a few famous faces, and later on me passed out somewhere in the streets of Stuttgart, singing Waltzing Matilda in my sleep.

We recovered quickly and sought to make amends for the failed "German superclub" attempt earlier in the trip. We tracked down "N-Pir" club which had been highly recommended on our last visit. Due to various members of my family regularly reading this blog, details of what happened there can be provided on special request.

Konstanz kraving

2006-10-26T01:38:00.000+10:00

With four days between the matches in Munich and Stuttgart, Sarge, Wolfgang and I headed south to Lake Konstanz for some R+R on the southern border of Germany. They have some interesting smells down there. Beautiful as it is, it's an all out assault on your nasal passages. But, we did get to stay in Jules Verne's room in a hotel in Lindau. We also got to take Wolfgang off road in a town named Meersburg – Sarge was driving, supposedly following the signs to a camping ground when all of a sudden we were on a narrow dirt path leading through the forest. "I think this is a walking path Sarge" "Yeah, I think you're right Dave" "Can you reverse out?" "Nup" "Well, onward it is then!" We found our way out, eventually.

Lucky we got out while when did! Just did some research on Wikipedia for Meersburg and apparently there's UFOs in them there hills! Run Sarge run!

Game 2 - Munich

2006-10-26T01:36:00.000+10:00

I'd been told many things about Munich. Mostly good things, that it was beautiful and green and preserved and they were all right on the money. It's a gorgeous city full of amazing architecture, rolling parks and gardens, and of course, great beer. If you ever get over there, I recommend the Augustina. It was the best we had on the whole tour. I also got to catch up with John and Grace again (they also mentioned how good I looked, seemed to be a recurring theme), and got to watch the game against Brazil at the great Allianz Arena Stadium. As for the game itself, football can be broken down into pure moments which decide your fate and despite our gallant efforts we lacked the killer qualities in those moments to finish them off. It was still the best I've ever seen our boys play.

One last thing you must do if you get to Munich, is head out to Kultfabrik which is an old industrial area converted into a nightclub mini-city with about 50 venues. Think of the Easter Show with the showbag pavilions replaced by nightclubs of every persuasion. Sarge managed to nab himself a local with the classy line "Carn Straya!" Genius.

Ohringen - the town with two dots

2006-10-26T01:34:00.000+10:00

This tiny town hosted the training camp and accommodation for the Socceroos during the World Cup and so we thought it right to bring some star status in thanks for their hospitality for our boys. If you were following my travels during the World Cup, you would have seen my Billy Crystal impression on the Today Show. Rove called me for a guest spot but I turned that little goose down.

Bob Sinclar in Goppingen?

2006-10-26T01:03:00.000+10:00

After a non-start in Stuttgart trying to find the much lauded "German superclubs" we headed towards Munich but decided to stop off in a little town named Goppingen (that's pronounced 'Gerpingen' for you deutschlander aficionados) to catch the Spain v Ukraine match on the tv in a café. What an inspired decision that turned out to be. It appeared that the proprietor of the café we stopped in had a certain aesthetic requirement that his waitresses had to meet to work there – needless to say, business and bust lines were booming!

On the recommendation of one of these lovely ladies, we headed after hours to a place called Club Rouge which was a blue light disco looking place in a golf clubhouse that was somehow hosting a party with Bob Sinclar headlining a few weeks later! I can just see how the Mixmag interview would run: "So Bob, tell us about your favourite venues to play. Sydney? New York? London? Paris?" "Well, if you must know, it's Club Rouge in Goppingen. They still serve Sub Zeros with grenadine which has been my favourite drink since 1996."

Das ist gud mineralbad!

2006-10-26T01:01:00.000+10:00

Still flying after the win over Japan, we headed east towards Munich, stopping off in Stuttgart for a (failed) attempt to sample the much lauded "German superclubs". We drove around for hours, without a map, and ended giving up and parking Wolfgang for some sleep on the side of the road. But one great discovery was made – mineralbad! Given almost all of Germany is landlocked, they spend big bucks on fitting out quality swimming complexes with whirlpools, slides, high pressure jets for massaging, spas, saunas, freezing temperature foot pools to boost circulation…think Cocoon with that bevy of octogenarians searching for their fountains of youth plus me and Sarge being the only men under the age of 50…we were very popular.

Game 1 - Kaiserlautern

2006-10-26T00:46:00.000+10:00

Within hours of arriving in Kaiserslautern, the host city for Australia's first World Cup match for 32 years, Sarge and I were interviewed by Japanese media. Our star status had preceded us and with Karl and the Today Show crew chasing us down later in the week, it seemed the word was out that we were top shelf television entertainment.

While in Cocoon in Frankfurt, I learnt the reason why Kaiserslautern, a relatively small provincial town, had been given the honour of hosting World Cup matches. It's all quite simple. When West Germany won their first World Cup in 1954, five players came from the then mighty Kaiserslautern FC, including their captain, Fritz Walter in whose name the current stadium was christened. Bet you didn't get that history lesson from Craig Foster did you?

Here's an email I sent to myself after the game, so I could capture how I felt:

"What a day, what a match, what an important result after 32 years of wishing, hoping and waiting.

From around 11am this morning, a heaving sea of green and gold, blow up kangaroos and 'strayan' paraphenalia of every persuasion wove its way towards the Fritz Walter Stadion here in Kaiserlautern, raring for battle. And every true Australian football fan knew it would require every inch of fight in every player we had out there to get the points we so desperately needed to get off the mark in this campaign.

Once in the ground, the scene was breathtaking. Green and gold throughout the stand, interrupted only by the substantial pockets of blue of our opponents. But numbers were not important, for we had spirit to burn, players to urge on and songs to sing. Yes, I cried while screaming the national anthem. Yes, every screaming rendition of Waltzing Matilda put my neck hairs on end. But after literally waiting my whole life for this day, you could hardly expect any less.

32 years. 6 minutes. 3 goals. Life can be broken down into the minutiae of infinitely small moments but some days, like today, adding those moments up gives you a sum to savour forever."

Sentimental I know, but that's me.

Another important experience in Kaiserslautern was mine and Sarge's initiation into the world of Fan Camps. These were massive camping areas at each World Cup venue used by, you guessed it, fans. And yes, this one time, at Fan Camp, Sarge and I decided we should use the tent we had in the van but after taking almost two hours working out how to put it up and then having to retreat to the van at 4.30 in the morning when we realised we were in the initial stages of hypothermia due to Sarge deciding to bring more hair product rather than pack a sleeping bag, we resigned ourselves to the fact we are city slickers through and through.

Fanks for the memories Frankfurt

2006-10-26T00:43:00.000+10:00

We pulled into Frankfurt on the opening day of the World Cup and the day before England were due to play their opening game v Paraguay in that city. Therefore, the city was flushed with England's gift to the world game – drunk, shirtless, sunburnt fans. Those geezers can drink, I'll give them that.

Later that night we had a quality night out at a club named Living XXL (which we did) and Cocoon (where the highlight was watching one punter who'd really overcooked his engine being wheeled out on a trolley at the end of the night and unceremoniously dumped on the steps of the club – those clucky Germans!)

Essen family reunion

2006-10-26T00:41:00.000+10:00

After a heavy night in Brugge, Sarge casually mentioned at breakfast that his dad's brother lived in Essen, Germany, and wondered if we could visit him. "Why not?" "How long has it been since you've seen him Sarge?" "Not since I was three, in Baghdad." "Right, does he know you're coming?" "No." "Right, this should be good."

And it was good, even though for a moment fate conspired against us meeting Uncle Elias after Sarge dropped his mobile phone and smashed it, destroying the only record we had of his uncle's phone number. But we prevailed, found his uncle, reunited the Yousifs and got some family hospitality far away from each of our own. Essen wasn't much to look at, but getting to see uncle and nephew together again after almost 25 years apart, well that's just Bruce Macavaney special isn't it?

Mmmm....belgian chocolate

2006-10-26T00:37:00.000+10:00

After a few days relaxing in Amsterdam, I left the lowlands of Holland to meet up with Sarge in the chocolately hills of Belgium. Cruising on down from Holland, I stopped off in Gent which is a very cute little medieval town complete with canals and massive churches and high walls. Brugge was the destination, Sargon was my target. The Sarge at Arms had flown over from Sydney into Paris via Tokyo (where he stole the slippers and kimono from the hotel – put 'em back Sarge!) to accompany me on this magical tour of merriment including the World Cup. After complimenting me on how good I looked (it had been a long flight), Sarge and I had our obligatory bowl of mussels with frittes, followed by a good old Aussie piss up. I remember walking into a bar, laughing at the people dancing on the podiums at the back, later feeling confused when it was me and Sarge busting a move on those podiums, and then being woken up after noon by the hotel proprietor when we were supposed to have checked out at 10am. Ouch. Steady start to the trip.

Hup Holland!

2006-10-21T01:20:00.000+10:00

Starting the trip was simple enough. On a crisp Saturday morning in London, I drove to Harwich, about two hours north east, got a ferry to the Hook of Holland, and drove into Rotterdam to meet up with John and Grace who were also attending the Australia v Holland pre-World Cup friendly the following day.

A few hiccups stick out in my mind – Wolfgang, my trusty 1982 VW campervan steed, was a right hand drive and this was the first time I had driven on the wrong (i.e. right) side of the road. There was a palpable nausea I felt as I rolled off the ferry and out of the port and OH MY GOD I'M DRIVING ON THE WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD but it's ok it's ok don't panic, that's what everyone does over here. Crisis averted.

I then tried to enter a parking station showing a two metre height restriction, grazed the overhead bar on my way in, the ticket machine then registers that Wolfgang is too tall (a warning is apparently flashing – in Dutch of course), I get out and speak to the traffic attendant who says I have to turn around and drive out, but my exit is now blocked by five car loads of angry Dutch people wanting to know why the dumb Aussie in the orange VW can't work out how to get into the parking station! Lucky the Dutch are such understanding people.

Another problem I encountered (or created) early in this trip was parking Wolfgang, jumping out all excited about arriving in a new city and/or country, rushing off to get a beer or see a sight or find a room and not taking note of where I parked him. Do you know how hard it is to find your vehicle in a city you've never been in, even when that vehicle is a sexy orange 1982 VW Campervan?!?!

Rotterdam was pleasant enough and sinking shots with the best Jacques Villeneuve lookalike I've ever seen was pretty cool. The game between Australia and Holland was a cracker. Hiddink v Van Basten. Schwartzer v Van Der Sar. Luke Wilkshire's studs v Giovanni Van Bronckhurst's head. A draw was a fair result in the end and running into Pierre Littbarski and the Vidmar brothers at the game was a real treat. If you check out the attached photo taken by Johnny Castro, I've marked where I was sitting with a little smiley face.

Bags nicked!

2006-08-07T00:57:00.000+10:00

It would appear that forces greater than I (yes, they do exist and no I am not referring to David Hasselhoff) are conspiring to ensure I have no tangible record of this trip.

On Friday, the Sarge-at-Arms and I rolled into Lloret de Mar, a popular beach party spot on the Costa Brava just north of Barcelona. After scoping the beach nad liking what we saw, we happily parked Wolfgang and headed for the water with towels in hand.

However, some gutter dweller saw this as an opportunity to break into the van and steal our bags.

All of them.

Clothes, toiletries, shoes, passports, ipod, watch, journal, diary.....all nicked and probably subsequently uncermoniously dumped in a swallow grave without so much as a makeshift tombstone. Heathens!

The journal and diary burn most as I now have no tangible record of this trip and will have to resort to the old grey matter for reliable accounts of my travels. I hereby deny any forthcoming embellishment or exaggeration, particularly any which makes me seem smarter or better looking or richer or cooler than I actually am.

But hey, it´s just stuff, and I still have my health right? And the boardies, t-shirt and thongs I was wearing when the rest got stolen.

At least unpacking the van will take a lot less time when I get back to London.

You id-jit!

2006-07-22T21:56:00.000+10:00

This post was meant to be accompanied by the first of many fantastic photos I took while on my World Cup and Western Europe enslaught.

Instead, for now, it will have to be my wit and wordsmith dear reader that warms the cockels of your heart. For yes, I am an id-jit, yes I did lose my camera at a music festival in Barcelona, and yes, horror of horrors I did not back up the 250 odd photos I had taken so far.

My cosy photos with the world football lumieries I met such as Pierre Littbarski and the Vidmar brothers...gone.

6x9 headhots with Channel 9 media personalities Karl 'The Stef' Stefanovic and Ken 'The Male Model from Mudgee' Sutcliffe...gone.

Proof of my chance meeting with American comedian Drew Carey looking completely out of place in the middle of a Stuttgart street party after Germany had got past Sweden...gone.

The catalogue of my committment to inebriation at the afterparty thrown by Tim Cahill's brother on the night of Australia's progression into the second round...gone.

And there are another 150 or so other shots that will come back to me in the middle of the night, haunting my dreams and reminding me what a complete id-jit I was during those three hours in Barca that I cannot account for....apparently I had a good time though, and who knows, maybe somebody, somewhere, has photos of me to prove it!

I'll recover some photos from the memory card in Sargon's camera soon - he broke his during an audacious dance move in a bar in Croatia.

Phew! Time to put the feet up!

2006-06-01T02:38:00.000+10:00

Updating a blog is hard work!

Hope you all enjoy it - not sure when the next entry will get uploaded as I'll be touring the continent for the World Cup and beyond.

But believe me, I'll have plenty more dangerousness to share with you all.

So stay tuned. Until then, be excellent to each other.

Wolfgang goes to the World Cup

2006-06-01T02:15:00.000+10:00

Ladies and Gents, I present Wolfgang - my 1982 VW Transporter Campervan, my (hopefully) trusty steed and home for my World Cup adventures starting this weekend.

Saturday morning we'll set off on a ferry from Harwick to the Hook of Holland, camping down for the night in Rotterdam in preparation for the Aus v Netherlands friendly on the 4th (get in there!) meandering south next week to meet up with my WC companion, Sargon, for the push east to Kaiserlautern for when the Socceroos kick off their campaign v Japan. We'll watch us win that match, push Brazil all the way in Munich then finish runners-up in the group after disposing of Croatia in Stuttgart on 22 June. Of course, I may need to then take out a loan against Wolfgang to get tickets to Australia's second round play-off against Italy (who will top their group), but what a clash of personal cultures that would be!

Right now, I really feel like I'm standing on the precipice of the fulfillment of a long held dream - to attend a World Cup and watch my beloved Socceroos match it with the best of the world on the biggest stage of all.

Deep down, we all know there are certain goals in our lives we would give anything to achieve and that we would forever regretting failing to grab if ever given the chance.

Well, here's my chance, I'm grabbing with both hands.

Come on you Socceroos! Destiny 06!

Wedding in Vienna

2006-06-01T02:08:00.000+10:00

Last weekend I was honoured to attend the wedding of my good friend Andreas, to his lovely (now) wife, Barbara. If you are reading this guys, congratulations, hope the honeymoon in Venice was magnifico, and hope to see you again soon, maybe for a white Xmas.

For everyone else, Vienna is a classically beautiful city, full of history, culture and green.

As Ferris Bueller would say 'If you have the means, I do recommend it.'

Miei cugini

2006-06-01T01:59:00.000+10:00

From left, that's Pasquale, Giuseppe, Francesca and Pasqualino.

We're world's apart but obviously cut from the same cloth.

The Motherland

2006-06-01T01:50:00.000+10:00

This is where is all began. Where my ancestors walked and worked the land, where family was important above all but good food and wine, where life is simple but pure.

Of course they were very different times when my nonni and nonne decided to take a punt and find a new, better life in Australia. But visiting the pastures of my roots, seeing what my grandparents gave up, what they left behind and above all, what they risked to start all over again on the other side of the world.....rispetto.

Ti piace gelato?

2006-06-01T01:43:00.000+10:00

The simple pleasures of Calabria.

Gelato. Famiglia. Tutto a posto.

Me and my bastone in Calabria

2006-05-31T23:47:00.000+10:00

At the end of April, I finally made the pilgrimage 'home' to Calabria.

My mate Carlos Mobellan, who is Spanish (not his fault), best described the experience of returning to one's roots as follows:

"The first time I saw my extended family (circa 93) it was like looking in a mirror. All at once I was sorry for them, then sorry for me."

He was spot on. Being in Calabria was the perfect antidote to London living. Simple. Pure. Healthy and relaxed. But I could never live their lives and they were astounded to hear about how I live mine. Actually, sometimes I astound myself, but that's for another blog entry.

Ice creams and glogs

2006-05-31T23:39:00.000+10:00

Amsterdam was good fun.

But those dutch women have HUGE feet!

Training with PSV Eindhoven

2006-05-31T23:30:00.000+10:00

On an Easter trip to Amsterdam, uncle Franky took me down to Eindhoven to see PSV train under the Aussie guidance of Guus Hiddink. They've got three Aussies playing there this season, Archie Thompson, Nathan Coe and Jason Culina.

Here's a shot of them being introduced to me.
They were honoured.

Suspicion

2006-05-31T23:26:00.000+10:00

There's that guy again!

Apathy

2006-05-31T22:36:00.000+10:00

MC: "5 squid to anyone who can find an apathetic party goer!"

Andy: "Here! Here he is! Gimme da cashola!"