Campaigning with the Barmy Army

Despite holding the Sydney event in a bar next door to another which proudly proclaimed itself to be the "HQ of the Barmy Army", we had largely avoided the thousands of unofficial ambassadors for the England & Wales Cricket Board.  No so in Perth.  The streets throng with a plethora of pudgy and pasty pint-bearing pedestrians all wearing various versions of the official England strip over the last ten years.

The locals seem remarkably accommodating considering the "in-yer-face" chauvinism on offer from these tourists, but, on the other hand, given the prices in Australia (and Perth in particular) they are probably just grinning all the way to the bank.  Given my own view that an oval of well-manicured grass is best lived and munched on  rather than run around on chasing a small bit of compressed leather, I think we should just leave them to it.

Be all that is it may, we ensconced ourselves in the slightly noisy Ocean Beach Hotel for the ninth event of this tour, and welcomed a dozen or so Aberites who nearly all seemed to know someone else in the room already.  This led to a highly convivial atmosphere, Aussie-style, with Julian spending a lot of his time dispatching the highly scurrilous rumour that Aber doesn't teach Geology any more.  Given that the majority of the alumni present were Geology graduates, this was rather important.  Manfully reading out a briefing note he had obtained but did not understand, Julian manfully spoke confidently of Earth Sciences, laser ablation systems and ICP mass spectrometers.  I don't think it convinced any of the geologists but it sounded very impressive to the rest of us.

The gracious Ann Boyer was kind enough to hold me for the benefit of the camera (and I would request that anyone else expecting to cop a feel of my woolly coat during this trip notices the gentle and respectful way she did it) and Ann and everyone else was kind enough not to mention that Julian was massively over-dressed for the occasion.    I think ties in Perth are only used to hold up tramps' trousers.

Julian now is "clocking off" for a couple of weeks holiday.  He intends to play golf, watch cricket, sink a few "tinnies" and try his best to get his internal clock back onto some form of even keel.  Living for three weeks without more than two hours sleep at a time will take its toll I suppose, but I think he's just a whingeing pom, to use the local parlance.  For myself, I'm trying without success to find a sheep-shearer to enable me to be just a tad cooler.  Can you believe that no-one round here knows how to trim a ewe?

I hope to pop back into this blogosphere before January once or twice, but the next formal communication will not be until we reach Singapore on January 3.  Merry Christmas to everyone.