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.

Goymer gets a job and turns a lesbian

Things have gone from amazing to near enough perfect. I got a job today! It’s a sales job which pays pretty damn good. To make this sort of money in England, I would have to work 60+ hour weeks. A Kiwi who works for the company already, managed to get me an interview. Apparently they love employing Englishmen because we’re renown for being amazing salesmen. That’s probably down to the fact we never shut up. So fingers crossed this job goes well, I plan to save a lot of money from it. BUT, I have been informed that these people party pretty hard. Which isn’t surprising considering the money they make.

This means that Brisbane will be my home for the next couple of months. I suppose that’s okay. The city itself is nothing special, but the nightlife is amazing. I went out with two Kiwi lads for an Australian football game which was on in the pubs. Much to my surprise, the game was pretty damn good. It was no Premier League, but I didn’t have to urge to shove a syringe in my eyeballs, which is what usually happens when I watch foreign football.

The game was some final, which involved the Brisbane Roars, luckily Brisbane won and I was in Brisbane. So the city went crazy. We met with some other people who were friends of a friend. Then we decided it would be a good idea to buy a box of goon. For those that don’t know, goon is F*CKED UP. Some of you may remember me talking about Alaska Vodka in Israel, well in Australia, the backpackers drink ‘goon’. Which is cheap boxed wine that contains egg and fish according to the ingredients! It’s no Sauvignon blanc. But it’s a cheap and quick path to the paradise of drunkendom.

I don’t really remember much about the night. We all went to some house, got f*cked up. Then I was in a club talking to some American lesbian who got so charmed by my accent and good looks she completely forgot she was a lesbian and pounced on me. She said something like “I’m only 90% lesbian by the way”. Next thing I know she was having my tonsils for dinner. Being able to pull a lesbian has pushed my ego into dangerous new heights. I eventually got kicked out the club for being drunk. That’s all you need to be in Australia, I stumbled a bit and the bouncer told me I’ve had enough. You really have to experience it to see just how ridiculously strict the bouncers are.

The thing with Aussie bouncers is, their not just some ‘roid-head on a power trip. Their all big, f*ck off Maori’s who can crush your face like a coke can just from looking at you. For those that don’t know, Maori’s are the native people of New Zealand. Maori’s don’t have to work out, they just have to be Maori. So when they tell you to get the f*ck out. You get the f*ck out.

I start training for my job on Thursday at the leisurely hour of 1pm. So not complaining at all. Have no idea what I will do tomorrow. Brisbane has nothing to do in it, apart from drink. Which I don’t want to get into the habit of doing everyday, f*ck me I’ve changed. As much as I love drinking, I don’t want to do it everyday because then I spend too much money and can’t travel as much. I think as well, I spent 3 years of my life drinking at least 5/7 days a week when I worked at the pub. I’ve done all that now.

Don’t get me wrong though, this weekend is going to be complete and utter carnage with my new work gang. Can’t wait!

Aussie sausages and a Peeling Tan...

Right now I’m sitting here bored off my tits. My bus leaves in 2 hours. So I figured I would pass the time by writing another blog. This isn’t a live one as I have no internet connection; so am writing it on Word. Anyway, so yeah, my current plan is to head up to Brisbane and find some work. I’ve heard a lot of backpackers say they can’t get work here. But there’s two type of people in this world. People that make shit happen, and those who don’t know their arse from their elbow and wait around for someone else to do things for them. Luckily I’m not the latter. This country is bursting at the seams with work. A far cry from the situation in my home nation right now.

The English urban landscape is full of abandoned building sites which were halted by the recession. I remember when I worked in the pub, as the recession got worse and worse. The pub got full of more tradesmen in the weekdays who were out of work. It’s a sad sight to see. This is far from the case in Australia, it seems the country is making the most of it’s economic boom right now. Everywhere you look, skyscrapers and new houses are being built. By built I mean there’s actually men on the site making them. I’ve already had about 4 labouring jobs offered to me. It’s insane.

So I’m quite optimistic about finding work. Even in shop windows there are adverts seeking new staff. It’s this healthy economic situation that is not putting me in a rush to leave this country anytime soon. Nothing lasts forever. Australia won’t always have this awesome economy, as an Englishman, I have a pretty good knowledge of a rise and fall of a great Empire and economy. But for the time being, things here are awesome and fingers crossed it will be a little while yet until things take a turn for the worse.

Bollocks, just realised my tan is starting to peel. Oh well, in a country like this, it won’t take me long to get it back. So yeah, that’s all I have to report on at present. Still have to wait a while for the bus. Will probably buy a couple of pies to pass the time. I really need to settle down for a bit. Being on the road is an unhealthy lifestyle. You can’t do a proper food shop from the supermarket because you will be leaving in a couple of days. I’ve been eating $10 All You Can Eat brekky all week. All the egg, bacon, beans, sausages etc. you want. Perfect hangover cure. Not the perfect heart attack cure.

Actually, that reminds me, to the Aussie’s reading this, what the FUCK have you done to sausage rolls?! Fair play on the pies. I can’t knock you for that one. But so far, I have only found sausage rolls with beef inside them. Shit is f*cked up. You see in Oz, most sausages are made of beef (as far as I have gathered so far), I’m guessing because they have so many cows in their country they’ve decided to turn them into sausages. I have to say, I’m not impressed. Sausages should be made of pork, and only pork. End of story.

One more thing which is funny. I see many things advertised as ‘English’. E.g. I saw an ‘English Muffin’ which was in fact a crumpet. I also saw ‘English cheese’ in Subway, what the hell is English cheese?! I thought they meant Cheddar at first, but they sold cheddar as cheddar. So I’m baffled. Speaking of cheddar, everytime I tell a foreigner that cheddar is an English invention, they think I’m lying. They can’t handle the fact England actually makes nice food. Deal with it. Right! Enough about food, I’m starving. Laters on.

Waltzing Goymer- My trip Downunder so far...

After much nagging, I have decided to bless you all with a blog. People are complaing my blogs aren’t as frequent as they were before. But what you have to remember is, when I was writing frequent blogs, I had no social life and internet on tap via my parents. Where as out here, I do have a social life and they charge an arm and a leg for internet. But tonight I am alone in a quite hostel and decided now is a good time to inform you all what I have been doing and my views so far on the Land Downunder. So sit tight and enjoy the ride.

I was absolutely dreading the trip to Australia, and by that, I literally mean trip! I was to leave England Monday night; and land in Sydney on Thursday. The best thing about preparing for the worst is, when it happens, you don’t actually think it was that bad. Waiting in Shanghai airport for 12 hours was a ball ache. But my yellow fever was in full flow, so I spent most my time admiring the pretty Chinese ladies all around me. I had the honour of sitting next to one on the 2^nd leg of the flight. Needless to say, this made the time fly by.

As we landed in Sydney, that old buzz came back again. The same buzz I had as the wheels of the plane touch down on the hot tarmac of Tel-Aviv. I was here. But before I had even entered customs; I faced a massive problem. The Visa bureau told me I need at least $5000 to get in as a working-holiday holder. I only had a bodged up bank statement saying $4000. I spent most of my flight thinking up a good story to blag my way through this predicament. Obviously I wasn’t fully aware of how laid back Aussie’s are as the bloke behind the desk barely even checked my Visa; let alone my bank statement. He was probably too busy thinking about Kangaroos and beetroots.

The airport was lovely and cool with the air-con. So when I stepped out the door, it was like I had accidentally walked into a crematorium. I thought, “F*ck this. There’s no way I’m gonna be able to deal with this heat. When’s the next flight home?”.  But then I took a massive can of man the f*ck up and I got on my train to Sydney centre. I was impressed by Sydney initially. It’s a city that never sleeps, full of pubs and restaurants. But after I few days, I realised that it really is just a city of pubs and restaurants. As far as sightseeing goes; there’s not a great deal to see. The Botanic gardens are lovely, Sydney Opera House ain’t all that in my opinion. It’s a big white building that doesn’t really have anything interesting about it. The historical porn, for a history freak like me, is poor. But I was expecting that anyway. The Houses of Parliament in London almost got blown up by Guy Fawkes and pals in the 17^th Century. Sydney Opera House had an awesome showing of Les Miserables in ’97.

Another funny one is, in England, you will see statues of people such as Lord Nelson; who heroically defeated the hordes of Spanish and French ships. Oliver Cromwell, who brought the English monarchy down to their knees and changed the future of English politics forever. The Duke of Wellington, the man who saved Europe from the clutches of the genius that is Napoleon Bonaparte. In Australia you’re more likely see statues of “Bruce Carpenter; the man who planted the first grape plant in Australia”.

But enough about slagging off their non-existant history. So far, I love this country. The buildings are generally ugly, their TV and Media is Americanised to f*ck, the bouncers are absolute Nazis, everything is stupidly expensive. But I absolutely love it here. One of the most important things about a country, is it’s people, Aussies are awesome. Their some of the politest and friendliest people I have ever met. I was in one of their supermarkets and the girl behind the cashier was packing my shopping into bags for me. This felt so wrong I reached across the counter and grabbed a bag and started packing too; she looked at me like I had escaped from a loon asylum.

It’s the little things like this that show the difference to attitude where I’m from. The only time they give assistance in England is if you’re elderly or you dribble down your t-shirt for a living. Another example, I was looking for a train station. This car pulls into their driveway and a man in a suit gets out. He’s clearly just finished  a long day at work. I ask him for directions to the train station. He starts to tell me, then says “F*ck it, get in and I’ll take you there”. I was shocked and had to be fully persauded to accept this offer. This kind of kindness to a stranger is long gone in most places in England. My Grandad tells me England was this kind back in the day, but it has all died out since the country became full of c*nts. So keep that one up Australia.

I spent 6 days in Sydney, whi ch was good, but not mindblowing. Everybody tells me Melbourne is the best city, so I looked forward to going there. I got the train up to Newcastle to meet a friend who I met in Israel. He was living in a house which the landlord believed was housing 3 people. But when I get there, there was easily 9 people living in this place. My time here mainly consisted of going to the beach and then doing nothing. It was just relaxing and more relaxing. It’s crazy to get in the sea where the water is actually nice to go in. It’s cold for about 2 seconds, then your body gets used to it and you can stay in for hours. That’s until the bloody jellyfish start floating in. If there is a God, then he has some explaining to do. Jellyfish are the most pointless creature in the world. Their ugly, they don’t do anything except for float around and sting people. At least crocodiles will spectacularly munch through your spine like a Twix bar. Jellyfish are just little bastards who are so pissed off about living an ugly and shit life, they decide to sting people to vent out their anger. Wankers.

I planned to stay in Newcastle for a bit. Because the beach is nice and the house was 2 minutes from it. But then I went out one night, and met the biggest Nazis since Himmler and Adolf himself. These people are; Aussie bouncers. They are DICKS! Like proper dicks. I was in a queue talking to an English lad, so my accent was pretty strong, when all of a sudden this bouncer comes over and asks me for a chat. I thought he might be checking ID or whatever, so I got it ready. Then he goes:

“I think you’ve had enough; you’re not coming in”

*Me completely shocked*

“Ay?! How have you just figured that one out? You’ve literally only just spoken to me. Breathalise me if you want”

“We don’t do breathalisers. I say you’re too drunk and that’s that”

By this point I was screwing. Some where between calling him a wanker and a c*nt. He decided to offer me a black eye for a dinner. I may have been angry, but not angry enough to try and take on a man who eat steroids for breakfast, lunch and dinner. A Canadian lad informed me the next day it happened to his English mate for a long time in Newcastle. It’s because of my accent and shaven head they thought I was some sort of football hooligan. So many people have said this when I’m travelling. Because of my accent + shaven head, they think I’m a lager drinking football yob. At first I found it funny, now it’s just annoying and I will break the face of the next prick who says it and drink 8 cans of Special Brew afterwards.

It’s not just Newcastle though. When you’re out, you have to be so careful not to drop a glass, dance like a dick, shout really loud, do anything fun. Otherwise the bouncers will kick you out for being too drunk. In England, you only get refused entry if you literally can’t walk and threaten to rape the bouncers wife and drown his kids. Australian bouncers don’t let drunk people into pubs. I’m surprised they let fish swim in the water with that logic.

But still, the people here are amazing. Last Saturday I accidentally ended up in Surfer’s Paradise (I will tell you why another time). I was going to spend one night there and then head down to my original destination of Coolangatta. But then I met these sound 2 Aussie lads from Canberra who were in Surfer’s for a holiday and ended up spending 6 days and $800 there. Worth every penny though. Surfer’s Paradise is off the chain. The local girls are fit as, but they know it, and hate backpackers. But us backpackers are there in full force and don’t give a shit what the locals think. I could tell you some funny/f*cked up things about my time there. But it’s not for family viewing. Just know, it was a crazy week and I made some awesome mates.

My favourite thought out here is when I’m next to a swimming pool or the sea. It’s 25-30 degrees and I have a beer at hand and am surrounded by awesome people. Then I think of everyone freezing their nuts off back home and think “This country is pretty decent”. I’m currently in Coolangatta, recovering from the 6 day bender. Heading up to Brisbane tomorrow to try and find work.

So Australia so far, expensive, bouncers are Nazis, annoying Americanised TV with adverts every 2 seconds selling you shit and ‘news’ reports on things such as how many men look at a hot girls arse in the street, awesome weather, awesome beaches, awesome people, amazing pies (had my best one EVER today, steak, gravy, egg, bacon and cheese), more evenly spread out wealth than in Europe, no class snobbery, drive on the left side (instant access to being a top country). I have a lot more to say, but will save that for another day. Laters.

p.s. Just walked to Maccy D’s (Mcdonalds) to send this on the web. Walked through a dark park and didn’t fear once that a crackhead might knife me or I’m gonna get jumped by 20 pissed up chavs. Win for Australia.

Goymer goes political- Multiculturalism

I've never been one for conspiracy theories. The idea that a British government wants to make it's people suffer just so they can get an extra few bob, is to me, ludicrous. Instantly some of you reading this will say "He is a tabloid loving, brainwashed idiot". If that makes you feel more comfortable, then continue to think so. As I've grown up and learnt more about life, I've managed to acquire a handy skill of being able to put myself in somebody else's shoes. I think the world would be a better place if everybody had this skill; but unfortunately you either have it or you don't.

Back in my weed smoking teens, I was as left wing as Ryan Giggs. I was ashamed of the pain the British Empire had inflicted on the world, I was ashamed of the Western powers mingling in foreign affairs and invading foreign nations. Anybody who questioned immigration in this country was instantly branded a racist. If nobody agreed with me, I would go mental and say how blind, racist and brainwashed they are. I was the enlightened one. I spent my whole time ranting and raving what was wrong with this country. I couldn't stand the intolerance around me, when would these people wake up?!

Then one day, it hit me like a bullet, I am just as bad as these people I am against. I am completely intolerant of their views and beliefs. Because they didn't agree with me, I instantly hated them and branded them idiots. I don't agree with groups like the BNP and EDL. I think the Muslim bashing in this nation is over the top and misinformed. Muslim's are getting hated on for Al Qaeda the same way Irishmen got hated on for the IRA. But does this mean I should shout down and ignore those who are worried about the Muslim extremist situation? No. The mind of the white British people has gone this way for many reasons. Instantly I know some of you are saying "I know too, it's the Tory government brainwashing the British people into fear. So they are so scared; that the government can then take all their money and build an evil lair in the Isle of Wight".

I'm not having that. The EDL has formed because of the Labour governments neglect. You can't force people to agree that multiculturalism is working. I personally have no problem with any foreign culture in this nation (this is where my shoe fitting skill comes in). But many people don't feel this way. Not just the EDL, the worry of the immigration situation spreads from working to upper class. I don't agree with many of these views (I do think the island is overpopulated though), but in a democratic nation, their voices are not to be ignored and labeled ignorant because they don't fall in line with mine. So, these people said over and over "We are not happy with the number of foreign people in this nation. We are not happy with extremist Muslims abusing our soldiers and constantly bad mouthing our culture. We are not happy with the low number of white people in towns like Luton, Bradford, Oldham etc.". So what did Labour say to these people? Nothing. Labour just swept them under the carpet and told everybody that multiculturalism is working and that's that.

Thus, these ignored voices got angry and started turning to the BNP and formed the EDL. A successful multiculturalism would mean that every community here is happy with living alongside each other. This is not the case. White communities are part of multiculturalism, many of them are not happy. Labour did not do well enough to listen to this community. Not just the white community. Muslim and some Asian communities feel alienated. There is tension between inner city black and Asian communities. So multiculturalism is not working right now. This is what David Cameron was getting at. He was not saying it is wrong and he hates it. He came out and said the situation of multiculturalism needs to improve.

By doing this, he has done more to disarm the likes of the EDL than a Labour government who simply ignored the concerns of concerned white communities. I'm personally very happy to see a politician finally have the balls to address the issue. Right wing activists will now start to think "Finally, somebody is listening to our concerns. The situation needs to change. Thankfully the government is listening to us now". Multiculturalism is such a hot potato, that instantly saying it is not working gets you branded a racist. There is a big difference between saying you hate multiculturalism and saying you don't think it is working.

In fact, from here I think he needs to take it a step further. I can perhaps see why some Muslims were not happy with the speech. My one qualm with the speech was he only focussed on the negatives of the Muslim community, this was to probably address the EDL and let them know the government understands they are not happy with the situation. Ignoring the EDL and branding them ignorant idiots will only make them stronger. He should of openly addressed the problems in all communities though. The failure of multicultarism is not just down to extremist Muslims and right wing Brits. Every community must take their portion of the blame. I am one of the biggest critics of the present white English community. The state society has got to is shocking.

This leads me to my next point...but I shall leave it there for now. I have to get all my stuff ready for Australia. I will continue this tonight.

I'll be gone for a while...but not forever...

"Keep the homes fires burning

While your hearts are yearning

Though your lads are far away

They dream of home"

I love these lyrics. I can see myself singing them whilst I'm away on my travels. Because as much as I will love travelling the world, I think I am really going to miss home. This song is an old British war song from World War 1 and 2. So my situation could not be more different to the purpose of this song if I tried. I'm not going to be knee deep in shit and blood in a rat infested trench, surrounded by bullet riddled corpses hanging off barbed wire. No. I am going to be lording it up on the beaches on Australia. Living the dream. Drinking cold bottles of beer, getting a tan that doesn't take eight weeks to get (and then lose it all in one day), admiring the fine ladies around me and listening to the latest rendition of Waltzing Matilda; Dubstep remix.

But in the middle of having the time of my life, I won't forget who I am and where I come from. I can't stand people who aren't proud of their heritage. I meet so many English people abroad who are constantly slagging off England saying how sh*t it is. These are the people who can't separate the fact they live a boring and dull life in their home country and so associate that with their country being sh*t. Don't get me wrong, England is no golden child and it has more than it's fair share of flaws. But what country doesn't? If anything, it's the flaws of my nation that make me stronger and make me want to help it. I'm a good person who contributes good to this nation, there's a lot of bad people in this country right now. How would people like me leaving forever make things any better? A captain never abandons his sinking ship.

This time last year, I absolutely dreaded the thought of going back to England. Since being back, I have loved every minute of it. Because travelling has changed my whole outlook on life. Why should my approach of excitement and curiosity in a foreign country be any different than when I'm in my own? In fact, the United Kingdom will be my final travel destination. When I finally come home, I am going to buy a camper van and travel the whole island. Because there are so many beautiful and interesting things in this country I have not yet soon. Foreign backpackers have seen more of this island than most natives. That's not right in my eyes.

This doesn't solely apply to England and the English. No matter where you are from. You should be proud of who you are. I hate people constantly moaning how rubbish their country is. Obviously it's not good to be blind with patriotism and see your country as doing no wrong. But you should love it for making you the person you are. Your country is not shit and boring. You are.

I leave for Australia in exactly one week now. I don't feel excited yet because it hasn't sunk in that I am leaving. I know once I am on that plane though, I will be buzzing. Before I go I will be staying at my grandparents. I think it fits quite well that when I leave England, the last person I see will be the most English person there is. My 86 year-old grandad. One of the dying breed of a true Englishman.

I will be gone for quite some time. Possibly a couple of years; I really don't know. But I do know one thing, when people ask me what England is like. I will tell them how great it is and is definitely worth a visit. I'm not going to scream it in their face like an over dramatic American. But I certainly won't be running it down like these self hating English people who are quite welcome to never come back. We don't want your type round here. So where ever I am, who ever I am with, how ever much a good time I am having. I will never forget the motherland. I will be dreaming of home. God save the Queen.

ישראל (Israel)- Pt VIII: My time in Jerusalem

Today I watched my football team winning 4-0, to then lose the lead and finish the game at 4-4. I have lost the will to live. So to take my mind off it, I shall write out another Israel tale (that rhymes). Today I will tell you about the time I went to one of the most famous and mysterious cities in the world. A city that thousands, if not millions, have spilt their blood for. A city that has stoked the embers of man's greed to turn it into a raging inferno, just to have the opportunity to claim this city as their own. It's like the equivalent of 'the' ring in Lord Of The Rings. Even to this day, the city's symbolic status and the pull it has on man's heart, is stopping Israel and Palestine from ever finding peace. This city is of course; Jerusalem.

If you ever go to Israel, and MUST go to one place, then that place is Jerusalem. End of story. Goodnight. Have a nice life. I absolutely love Jerusalem. I can't exactly say why, it doesn't have the class of Milan, or the architectural beauty of central London . It just has this certain feel about it, that will stay with me until the day I die. Maybe there is something spiritual there, or (more likely) it's because it's that place you hear so much about all your life, but you know nothing about it. It's the place where Jesus Christ preached to the masses, where Jesus was betrayed by Judas and eventually was crucified on the Jerusalem hills of Golgotha. Even though I'm not a believer in the Bible, it's those stories that everybody knows and now I was about to go to the place where this is all said to have happened.

But it's lure of my curiosity didn't just stop at the Bible. It's this exact place that caused the Crusades to happen. This is the place that drove hundreds and thousands of European (and English ;) ) knights to leave all they know behind and head East, to the Holy Land. So they could take Jerusalem from the Muslims and proudly claim it for the Christians. The Crusades happened for hundreds of years. Back and forth it went between Muslim and Christian hands. Bodies relentlessly thrown at the sacred walls of the city. Until the men of Islam were finally victorious and were the indefinite gate keepers of this Holy City.

Even now, the Israeli government refuses to allow the Palestinians to make Jerusalem their state capital too. Not because of any economic or strategical gain. But because it's Jerusalem. To give up Jerusalem, is to spit in the face of God. To give up Jerusalem, is to give up your soul. To give up Jerusalem, is unthinkable. The Muslims had a hard enough time getting it back off the Christian crusaders. So to hope they can get it off this right-wing Israeli government for nothing; they don't have a hope in hell. Funny how such a Holy City which represents a good and great God; brings out the most evil and greed possible in a human being.

So when I found out Raviv had organised a trip to this city, I was over the moon. For someone who has such a hard on for history like me, Jerusalem was my Jenna Jameson. I was so looking forward to this trip, I missed my first pub night EVER so I could be fresh for the trip. I also booked a week off work, so me and my Aussie mates could travel around the country a bit more. This wasn't going to happen unfortunately, which you will later learn why. So off we set on the trip. There was a bus load of us heading down there, I always had the same seat and sat alone. Not because I didn't wash, but because I'm a greedy git who wanted both the seats to spread out on. As well, this seat was obviously at the back because that's where cool people sit. I would amuse myself on every bus trip by annoying Bruce 2. He naively thought he could sit in front of me and catch some sleep; he thought wrong.

It was on this bus trip I first saw desert. The desert is amazing, especially to someone who comes from such a green country as England. The only time I've seen desert was in Mad Max or on the news in Afghanistan, that footage is usually full of British soldiers shooting big f*ck off guns and watching bombs rain down on the Taliban from above. So needless to say, I was a bit surprised when I opened my eyes to see nothing but Ali Baba and his camel standing there. Nothing like the badlands of Helmand! It's an impressive sight though.

We stopped at some place (I literally don't know where it is) for lunch. We were all queuing up to make our own sandwiches, when I saw Raviv pull a pistol out of his bag and tucked it into his jeans. He then gave me a look and smiled and said "We are in Arab territory now". I don't know whether he was trying to shit me up or not. But I had been in the country that long now, I really wasn't too bothered. Guns and potential war don't really play on your mind as much as people think it does. Why let that ruin your time?

But he was right, we were in Arab territory. We were in the West Bank. I thought the whole West Bank was surrounded by 1000ft concrete walls, with nuke launching tanks parked on top and a 50ft deep ditch filled with man eating Jews. So I was greatly disappointed to not see this. The walls are around the settlements where most of the suicide bombers came from. There is a lot of controversy over these walls, as they are impeding human rights. But for someone who was about to go to the city which has been under attack from these suicide bombers, I queried whether these walls were high enough!

The West Bank was different to Israel (I count the two as different countries). There were lots of run down buildings, there was even people living in the middle of nowhere in makeshift houses. Proper shanty town houses. But these turned out to be Bedouins, nomads who prefer living in these makeshift homes. Never the less though, the buildings you could see far away looked terrible. It was another world compared to the thriving country next door, not even next door, literally just on the other side of the room. The landscape is beautiful though. The hills are green and then peppered with white stones all over them. Like sugar coating on a green cake. After much driving through this imaginary cake, we arrived.

The bus parked up on the Mount of Olives. We all got out and looked at the Old City from afar. So already we were somewhere that's in the Bible. To get where we were, we had to drive through East Jerusalem. If I can describe East Jerusalem in one word, it would be SKETCHY. I know it's possible to go there as a foreigner and the Arabs will love you. But when you're on an Israeli bus, you're guaranteed not to get that reception. We picked up a soldier in Jerusalem, who was just on leave from the West Bank and lived in Baram. As he came on the bus he sat in MY seat. But for some reason I wasn't going to argue with an Israeli paratrooper with live ammunition in his M16 (maybe M4, can't remember now). All jokes aside, he's a good guy. He's a Jew from Amsterdam who came to Israel and do his service for the army. This is not rare, Jews from all over the world serve in the Israeli Army. I even met a girl from London who was kitted out in full IDF uniform, that was a spin out to say the least.

Anyway, it was good he sat next to me. Because as we drove through East Jerusalem he was giving me a bit of a guided tour. First he pointed out the Hamas flags that Palestinian supporters were flying out the window. So I thought "hmm, I'm on the wrong bus here". Then as we drove on he pointed out posters. These posters were shocking to say the least. They are pictures of the remains of a suicide bomber and the destruction around him. These posters are praising these suicide bombings and encouraging children to look up to them. To actually see this was an eye opener to say the least.

After much meandering and an interesting conversation. The bus came to a halt, now was time for us to embark on a great Crusade into the Holy City. I had made numerous jokes about reclaiming Jerusalem for the Christians, but I kept these jokes to a minimum once I actually got there. I quite like living. Now when I pictured Jerusalem in my head, I thought it would be huge. But the Old City is not big at all. I suppose it makes sense when you think that there was no way near as many people on this planet back then. The Old City is in the centre of Jerusalem. It is surrounded by beautiful walls which you could picture the knights of Europe climbing over to win the jewel of the Christian crown.

The thing with Jerusalem is, there's no jaw dropping architecture or scenery. But it's the whole ambience of the place that I love. There is so much going on around you. You have Jews, Muslims and Christians all crammed into this small place. You got rabbis to your left, monks wearing those medieval brown robes to your right, Imams in front of you, and Arabs trying to haggle you to by their tacky merchandise everywhere. I went to the Holy Church Sepulchre, which is apparently built where Jesus was killed and buried. It was manic. The place was packed with Christians from all over the world. There was people kissing this slab which they believed Jesus' body was washed on. People were bawling there eyes out. It was very weird. But thoroughly entertaining. Perhaps I missed the point!

I spent most my time laughing to myself at the funny clothes these religious nuts were wearing. That's probably because I don't believe in their religion and to be honest, it all seemed a bit ridiculous to me. Then we went to the Wailing Wall, which is the Jews' most sacred place. It is the remaining wall of their Great Temple, which was destroyed by the Romans, they basically go to it and go mental. Absolutely doolaly. Screaming and shouting all sorts of prayers in Hebrew. I was fortunate enough to come here on Shabbat night, their holy night. There are hundreds of Jews praying here on Shabbat. The men and woman have separate parts that they must stand in. I wish I could of got a picture, but it was not allowed. This is one of the greatest spectacles I have ever seen. It truly is unreal. A pleasure to watch. Although it was here I booked my home in Hell. Whilst there was a serious religious ceremony going on, me and my mate were scouting the talent in the female part of prayer. Some absolute crackers in there. Shame they only date Jews.

The Old City is split into quarters. The Christian quarter, Jewish quarter, Muslim quarter and the Armenian quarter. They're really close together and you can see why balagan (Hebrew for chaos, trouble, mess etc. more on that another time) happens. This police is full of the most extreme of all the religions, crammed into this tiny square. Even the Christians have beef with eachother, Catholics, Orthodox etc. they have so much beef, that their most religious place is owned by a Muslim so he says when it opens and closes without the Christians arguing about it.

There's really so much to say about Jerusalem. I might split this into two parts. So I will write a bit more and wrap it up. Night time Jerusalem is probably my favourite Jerusalem. All the tourists are gone, and the whole city goes quiet. It's bizarre. It's at this time you can imagine being the geezer out of Assasins Creed, jumping from roof to roof. The streets aren't like any modern city. They're a maze, a maze you wouldn't want to get lost in. Because chances are you're being stalked by an Ali Baba who knows these streets like the top of his penis and he will definitely want your wallet.

The bus went back to the kibbutz, but most of us had money and wanted to see more. So stayed behind. We needed a place to stay. Luckily we found a hostel called 'The Swedish Hostel'. It was run by two Arabs and the furniture was definitely not from IKEA. What a rip off.

To be continued...