Melbourne, Special Salesmen and a sick bastard named Paddy

Right then Ladies and Gents; it’s that time of the month again. So ladies; turn off Desperate Housewives (or any of the other generic show with EXTREMELY fit but equally boring birds in it) and gents; put the hand lotion and tissues away. It’s been over 3 weeks since I last wrote to you all. The last time we spoke, I was having my tonsils devoured by a confused lesbian and I was just about to start my sales job in Brisbane. I’m sure I mentioned before the unpredictability of travelling. Because I have no job and nor am I in Brisbane. So please remain seated, turn your mobile phones off and I shall explain all…

Brisbane is a dull city. I was told how great it is by some Aussies, but I was still not enjoying myself. My hostel was full of gimps, the city is rank and the river makes the Thames look like somewhere in the Caribbean. Anywho, as all was looking up and I was going to start this new job, I received a phone call from my good friend Paddy. Paddy comes from Yorkshire and moved to Australia after the evil wench Margaret Thatcher closed down his coal mine and sent all his children to work on sugar plantations in Virginia. I met Paddy back in England whilst working in the pub. He’s a sick bastard, who drinks too much, has a disgusting sense of humour and is an all round ‘orrible bastard. Basically, he’s my sort of guy.

After much catching up and exchanging tales. He tells me of this mystical land where the buildings aren’t all tacky post 1950 builds and to go 10 seconds without seeing a hot girl is unheard of. Like a wide-eyed child fixated on his Grandad’s war stories, I asked him more and more about this place. He tells me this place is called; Melbourne.

After much drinking and a poor show of girls, I tell Paddy I’m f*cking my job off and I’m going to Melbourne with him. So me being as spontaneous as ever, books the flight and pisses the company off in the process. But after the time I’ve had in Melbourne, I really couldn’t give a toss. The flight was cheap and only took a couple of hours. No drama. We both got off the plane, onto the shuttle bus and instantly I loved Melbourne already. The bus wasn’t even IN Melbourne yet, but Melbourne was in the bus. And by that I mean the bus was crammed with stunning Melbourne girls. Me and Paddy made sure to speak extra loud to each other so they could all hear our accent. Works a treat every time.

This is what had annoyed me so far in Australia. In Israel I could make a thousand heads turn towards me when I spoke. Purely because they rarely met English people. But the backpacking scene in Oz is crammed avec Anglais. So the accent has lost it’s novelty to most the backpackers. This is when Paddy let me in on a little secret. The best thing to do is, is not to go out in the clubs in the centre where all the backpackers are. He took me to some random suburb in a shitty small club that you would have to pay me to go to in England. But it was paradise for an Englishmen. We strutted around that place like Gods. Literally all we had to do was go up to a girl and ask “’scuse me luv. Do ya know where’s good tonight?”
 Instantly they say:
“OMG! Where are you from?!!?!”. The rest is history. This is what travelling for a single, handsome, witty and funny Englishman should be about.

But enough about my sleaze trips for now. Let me tell you about the city itself. I have been far from impressed by Aussie cities. Coming from a country with cities like London, Manchester, Portsmouth etc. I have been spoilt. We as English people are spoilt with these. Sure they have their rough areas where you will be greeted with a knife to the face if you don’t hand over your bus ticket to hooded youth. But the centre of these cities are always decorated with beautiful, old buildings that are full of character. Aussie cities are boring as. If you see one street, you’ve seen it all. Well not Melbourne. Melbourne has maintained a lot of it’s original beauty.

The buildings here scream out the Empires glory. It literally gives me a hard on. The general vibe here is very laid back too. Sydney was hectic, Brisbane was depressing, but Melbourne has that happy feel to it that everything is going to be alright. I don’t know if the hot girl every half a second has anything to do with this. It certainly helps!

The nightlife is great too. There are some dodgy places though. Me and Paddy ended up somewhere full of Somalians who were openly selling cocaine in the club. No-one gave a  shit. I was having a cigarette and was talking to one of them, he was telling me if anyone f*cks with them then they will all group together and attack (typical skinnies). When I returned inside, Paddy was naively chatting up this surprisingly fit Somalian bird. She was loving it. But I had to run over and burst his bubble when I pointed out the 10 pirates eyeing him up like an unguarded trade ship. Thanks to me, we both left the club stab-free that night.

So if any of you visit Australia, you MUST go to Melbourne. Sydney is overrated. If I decide to stay here in Australia, then Melbourne is, without a shadow of a doubt, the place that I will live in. Not all is perfect though. There’s a lot of crazy, trampy drug addicts in the city centre. They are constantly in your face asking for money. We have tramps in English cities too, but no way near as compressed into one place as they are here. I suppose it maybe because English major cities are big and spread out, so they can hustle for money in different areas. Here in Aus they all cram into the CBD (Central business district, f*cking Yank talk!). But I can cope with this. What I am about to comment on next is the REAL issue that pisses me off.

Australia is a great country with arguably the friendliest people in the world. So here’s what I don’t understand. In England  and Australia, we have something called “The Big Issue”. This is a magazine that tramps sell on the street to make an honest buck or 2. In England, this is only restricted to tramps. In Australia, you have mentally disabled people who are parked up on the street corner and given a load to sell. Some of them don’t even have Big Issues, just a sign saying give me money. WHAT THE FUCK! How third world is that?! I am Socialisms biggest critic, but at this time, I will say this is bollocks. It literally made my blood boil seeing this. By mentally disabled, I mean the types who will not leave one window unlicked. The type we see in England being driven round in a blue mini bus eating their own shoulders. Because in these blue mini bus’ they’re being taken out by carers to the park or something. Not stuck on a street corner in the burning sun to beg for money all day. It is sick. Sort it out Australia, a country with your economy can definitely afford to look after these poor bastards.

Rant over. I have fallen in love with this country. The backpacking scene is sh*t. For me it is anyway, all the English people I meet are posh wankers who are on an adventure paid for by Mummy and Daddy and then their going to go back to England to study Art and waste the taxpayers money. I meet these people everyday and it makes me physically ill. They all hated me and Paddy here. We were in a backpackers club full of up themselves English girls; who the guys were all over. Me and Paddy took another approach and spoke to these two cute Japanese girls instead. All the English girls were giving us the dirtiest looks ever. One of them came over and was desperate for us to dance with her. I bluntly told her to leave me alone and Paddy told her to go and shave her armpits. Priceless.

So what I recommend doing is, is getting to know Aussies. Aussies are pretty much English, without the negative parts. Sure you get your dickhead ones, but what country doesn’t? I judge people A LOT on their sense of humour. Aussies are just as brutal and love to take the piss as us English do. I went to my first Aussie BBQ the other night. It was unreal. If we have a BBQ in England, we just stick the meat on, cook it until it’s done, eat it, then piss off indoors and watch shit Saturday night TV. When I went to a BBQ here, the food lasted for about 5-6 hours. And f*ck me they know how to cook it. I wish I could tell you more about the night, but the combination of a stupid amount of beers and potent bud has disabled me from being about to do so.

If you ask an Aussie for directions, they will draw you out a map. If you ask an Englishman, he will tell you he doesn’t know, go down the road and ask someone else (I am guilty of this haha). England, for me, is better in many ways. Mainly because it’s my home. But the Australian people are what would make me consider staying here (plus the ridiculously high wages!). I have a huge decision to make by February next year. Stay here, continue travelling or go home and start my dream career. I can’t tell you what the latter is right now. But I’m not going to stress about it. I’ve yet to make a bad decision in my life. So I’m confident what ever I do next year will be equally as awesome as the one before it. Which is pretty damn awesome! Can I just say, Mitchell Burton, I know your reading this. It’s because of you I use the word awesome. You wanker! You don’t understand how much I hated this gay American word before Israel haha. Now it’s all I bloody say!

So my next move is, stay in Melbourne, get work, save money. I want to do labouring work, in order to do so I need something called a white card. My course isn’t until next Friday, which is a massive bollock ache as my cash is loooow. I’m literally going to have a week ahead of monging around at the hostel with me and my left hand. Good times.

Going back to my accent quickly. As much as it is an advantage. It is also a disadvantage. People say my accent is quite aggressive, which I suppose it is. People from my hometown, reading this, will have no idea what I’m on about. Because to us it’s normal. I’ve been told plenty of times out here and in other areas in England, where the accent is different. to ‘calm down’ when I’m not even pissed off. Does my head in! Even then, if I said “does my head in!” in my loud accent, people would think I’m angry haha. So some Aussie lads will wanna try and start a fight because they think I’m trying to act like bertie big bollocks…which I am :p But I’m not looking for a ruck. Mugs.

I will also stick my neck on the line and make the bold statement that Englishmen are BY FAR bigger pissheads than Australians. Aussies love a piss-up, but they can’t do a marathon like we can. I put this down to the fact that booze is A LOT cheaper in England. So we go ape-shit.  It’s such an issue in our country the Government have no idea what to do. I was in Sydney on a Friday night. At 4-5am the club was empty, apart from 6 people. All of us English, we still wanted more. I think the heavy weight title is ours. The Irish are overrated.

There’s so much more I wanted to write, but when it comes to it, it all clogs my brain up and I leave a lot out. I’m sure I’ve kept you long enough anyway. Thanks for reading. It’s good to know people enjoy this. I literally would not write anything if you didn’t all keep nagging me. So thanks a lot. Over and out.