Bear and Jackie’s Travel Diary

Just over a month now and we are starting feel like this is home. Is it ever going to be OK to be a Queenslander? I don’t own a sleeveless shirt or a dodgy hat. I generally wear shoes and some sort of upper carcass coverage to the supermarket or the pub, and generally arrive at said venues via car, scooter or foot, rather than a horse! Fu(k me, I could be in trouble here!

This part of our land however, is the Australia that you dream of. Wake up to parrots, magpies, heaps of unknown, noisy species and kookaburras. Smashing out brekky and coffee on the deck whilst the local parrots smash out the seeds overlooking the creek and bush is a truly shitty experience. 

2-minute drive or 10-minute walk into town reminds me of the DY that we fell in love with 24 years ago. No traffic lights, no traffic, no tolls, no high rise and the clowns that run the nation are 1000km further away! 

Work on our pad is going to be an ever-extending list of utterly essential and ‘nice to have’. The lawns are now largely under control and I have stopped looking for ways to smuggle a small herd of goats into the back yard. Time to focus on a few other things…

There is a wood burner in the lounge to annoy climate change moaners and keep Mr Frost and his chilly chums outside in winter. Mid-April here with 28-30 degree days questions the need for extra heat, but $20 bags of hardwood from the local servo won’t feed this greedy little bugger for long. Popped out for a lunch with the fabulous Chris and AM who offered us use of their ute for a blast up and down Rainbow Beach. Images of unsuspecting bellends stranded in the sand whilst King Neptune wafts around, trident in hand are not really on our ‘to do’ list. Use of said ute to collect a heap of firewood seemed like a much more sensible option. Whacked on some scruffy work gear and steel capped boots, grabbed the extra chunky gloves and headed off to collect $150 worth of winter warmers that J4X found on Marketplace. Rocked up at some bloke’s rural hideaway and chucked everything that we could find into the ute tray. Everything that is except a few nasty looking black scorpions, inch long ants and a selection of generally feisty looking critters. Hauled our load back to Cooroy and stacked it up under the house. Turns out that is a really bad idea in the tropics. Ravenous termites see firewood as an open pantry and a welcome mat to start scoffing the house frame. I had never heard of an ant cap! 6 of the buggers are now inbound courtesy of Bunnings, will grab the concrete blocks next week too, problem solved! The tricky task of reducing truly adult sized logs into useable portions is going to require several hundred swings of our newly acquired log splitting axe. A Ute load of wooden pallets is being dealt with courtesy of the circular saw and I reckon we are set for anything that the Queensland winter can throw at us. 

Winter also threw us another curveball when the airmiles eating entity that calls itself Qantas informed us that we had about a week to use a bunch of points or hand them over the likes of the now departed, arrogant Irish dwarf. WA looked like a warm option, but accommodation is next level pricey in the winter. Tasmania is probably the chilliest Aussie option in July but Hobart and 8 nights in a motorhome are just about affordable if the Orange Oompa Loompa sorts out his beef with Iran. Red wine, hearty grub and wood fires here we come!

Back in renovation reality, time to tick a few more tasks off the list…

We have booked a chappie in to give the roof a dose of chlorine based, pressure wash love then give the out of reach bits a bit of a blast before we repaint. 

Super bright downlights in the kitchen are awesome but not much fun for cozy evenings in the lounge when you are trying to watch telly after dark. Dimmers and reliable LED downlights are expensive and unpredictable, so app-controlled smart lights look like fun. Fun is a bit of an understatement when standard white or yellowish lights become infinite colour options synched to trance music at the touch of a button. Sadly, linked fire alarms in every room restrict the use of smoke machines. Gunna put a couple of these puppies on the balcony and announce our arrival to the neighbours! Bedroom lights got a slightly more adult makeover.

It is a sad day when the cold porcelain of a dunny is more comfortable than the cheap and nasty seat that adorns it. Quick trip to Bunnings sorts that problem and the dunny returns to its status as a useful reading room.

Boxes are now fully unpacked and pictures generally filling wall space. Time to start socialising!

Our lovely pickleball mate, Megan invited us over for a sleepover and an 80’s music and dance night at Coolum Bowl-o. Lock that fu(ker in! Living opposite a Dan Murphy’s and walking distance to the bowl-o is going to test the sturdiest of livers, Megs didn’t disappoint with a fearsome array of nibbles and slurps. We were at boarding school together in the 80’s and no strangers to getting on the piss under the gym before the school disco. This should be a hoot without having to hide from teachers! Turns out that 80’s music Oz is 100% different from 80’s stuff  in Dorset. Having never heard most of the tunes, competing with Lethario & Co on the dancefloor was interesting and exciting. You know it has been a long evening when the bowling greens look more comfy than the walk home.

Forever the explorer and seeker of fun, J4X finds a field of sunflowers to have a romp around in. Play the game of avoid the snakes and bees then head off with a heap for $1 a stem. Don’t mind if we do.

Having treated the pesky cockatoos to a few blasts from the hose, our new avian friends join us throughout the day, generally redecorating our deck and making a nuisance of themselves.

A gentle 10 minute scooter ride to Eumundi Markets is a handy excuse for eating German sausage and sampling local produce. Like gin! Found a purple version that turns pink with tonic. Cracked one of those cheeky chappies open on the balcony. Won’t be sharing this with the kookaburras.

I could be in the market for an Akubra soon.

The calendar says three weeks now and we are still getting over the reality of our decisions. Holy crap, it is paradise up here. No traffic, no traffic lights, no tolls. Parrots and whip birds greet us in the morning and we can wander into town for a lazy coffee or an ale, bloody oath!

We have a slightly weird order of priorities in our new home. So many boxes and flat packed furniture! Bed reassembled with a couple of bedside tables. Sofa unwrapped and popped back together. Telly plumbed into our new fibre broadband. A quick wander into town stocked up a few essentials like milk and a 5kg lump of local rump steak, don’t mind if we do! Pulled the sourdough starter out of the esky and gave her a feed. 

Fabulous Jackie gets started on the unpacking whilst I un-flatpack tables and chairs. Every bedroom here has a built in wardrobe to swallow up the shorts and T-shirts that we need up here, just with hanging space only! Bunnings became the next stop to grab a few modular shelfie thingies to avoid any awkward T-shirt/sock/underpant confusion situations. Also purchased a couple of lights for our pickleball sized deck and some shiny new lines for washing line that looked like a demented spaghetti tree. A swift wander down the lawn mower isle added a new goat alternative for our national park sized lawn then off to the electrickery zone for a set of four downlights for the kitchen.

Washing line installed and tumble drier handsomely attached to the wall, the troublesome business of a week on the road can now be dealt with. Functioning downlights in the kitchen only revealed further items in Pandora’s infamous box. The dishwasher looked like a dish-dirtier and the cooktop like something from a uni student’s hall of residence. The Appliance Online troops solved the dishwasher issue the next day, Cerapol and Mr Scraper returned the cooktop to sanitary satisfaction levels.

Time to tackle the lawns! Slight regret here by not buying a larger grass clipping machine or a small tractor. Larger regret by attacking said task with a small hangover and 30 degree heat. The last time these lawns had seen a trim was possibly when T-Rex and his chums were feasting on vegetarians. Much of the paddock was knee deep grass and the poor little mower didn’t enjoy the experience any more than I did. Green bin stuffed full and off to pickleball in the evening for a Round Robin sesh. Chuffed AF to win at our first time of asking but wonder if that was a good idea in our new home. Too late now!

The deck lighting also revealed a new horror, so water blasting next on the agenda. Generally, decking boards have little gaps between them to allow the passage of water and small creatures. This gaff was built around 2009 and probably hasn’t seen a pressure washer. Several millimetres of black nastiness needed to be shifted before the wood re-appeared. Need to find a weather window before re-oiling this bugger.

Jackie’s little go-kart was fighting for space in the garage so that was next on the agenda. Whacked up some hooks for the garden toys, and shelf for the esky and general space consuming stuff. My spell with Coles Online also added a few handy crates for keeping stuff off the floor and the task is complete.

Hanging anything on plasterboard walls is a fun experience on a good day. Plasterboard walls in a fibro house is double the fun and so begins the game of find a joist! Mr Knuckle and Mr Drill do the homework before Mr Screwdriver and his metallic chums get involved. Mirrors up now, just a packing crate and cupboard full of paintings to find homes for.

Doorbell installed to inform us of the hoard of visitors that will never be here. Foose table up and ready to ensure that the aforementioned visitors never come. On the subject of visitors, we decided to encourage our avian chums with a small bird feeder thingy. Small being the order of the day to discourage marauding, deck eating and fly screen destroying Cockatoos. Having never seen or heard one of the Sulphur Crested pests, I was more than horrified to see the bird feeder almost horizonal whilst one of them watched his destruction from the safety of a tree. Safe however for him was in range of the jet setting on the hose. Turns out that cockatoos don’t like hosepipes, took the fu(ker three attempts before he got the message, haven’t seen him since. We now enjoy our brekky in the company of king parrots and rosellas.

Sourdough starter culture used for general brekky business, we are somehow on first name terms with the local bottle-O and the most wanted list of our new pickleball community. Found a purveyor of local mud crabs in the market. Life is good.

Destination Queensland

OK, so 6 months or so of fixing up our fabulous house in Cromer has come to an end. Every wall, door and ceiling painted. Sparky bits re-sparked. Dodgy dunny piping areas relined. Iffy deck planks replaced. Spa cleaned and disconnected. 

The utterly awesome troops at The Property Colab came good on the first open viewing. 15 groups around on a Saturday, deposit paid on Tuesday, holy crap, this is real now. We are no strangers to misbehaviour, change or adventure, but this is now getting serious. Saying cheerio to a life and the friendships that we have built over 24 years is fu(king scary. We said a cheerful but teary farewell to our pickleball mates and headed home for the last night. 

Removal troops wafted up at about 8am and were slightly unimpressed that their truck couldn’t squeeze its fat arse up the drive. Happy that we weren’t the people lugging 40 or 50 cubics down the drive! 5 hours later these guys get on the road with a suggestion that they will stop in Newcastle, then deliver at middayish the next day. Poor Lizzie gets a call from the removal boys at about 6am, “we’re here!”. Absolute trooper, makes the 30 minute drive to Cooroy to let the boys in.

Bear and J4X in the meantime slope off to Meg’s posh penthouse pad in DY for the night. Saturday morning is here and we need to get our arses up to Terry Hills for Sam and Brooke’s wedding. An incredible privilege marrying a childhood friend and namesake of our Sam. Crazy and fabulous. 

Chillout/recover day Sunday then a final clear-out from Willandra on Monday morning. Tiny few bits to remove and walk the pool chap through our somewhat unique setup. House cleaners doing their thing, chaps checking lights and fire alarms, general fossicking people doing some fossicking. Dropped the keys off with the Property Colab troops and tried not to cry, this is and was our choice. Off we go.

Wheels on the tarmac now. Sadly, our first stop on the Central Coast was cancelled due to Keith and Caroline being stranded in Thailand! Pushed through to Lake Cathie and Ray & Lee’s gaff about 4 hours away.

Spent a couple of nights and general misbehaviour with the Pursers then an early start for the 800km hop to the Sunny Coast. Not 100% happy being in separate cars again, but took the appropriate stops and hugs. Crawled in for an early evening arrival with the MoonBears in Peregian Springs.

Bloody Hell! We are here! About 1000km North of Sydney that we have called home for so many years and this is our new home.

Our place looks tired and unloved but we knew this. Most of the lights are broken or generally sh!t. The layout however is epic. Every room comes off a central living area and the balcony overlooks the bush and river. Life doesn’t get much better than the birds being noisier than the traffic!

The work begins….

So, 2 days whizzing around on the the white stuff, a stack of ridiculous feeds, a beverage or two and a turn on the world’s biggest swing and the weather forecast Gods appear to be getting the sh!ts. Booked ourselves a wine tasting day, posh looking little bus with 8 or so tasters and a 9.20am pickup, lovely jubbly!

Fortunately, the d!ckheads in the weather office here have no more clue than the clowns on our side of the ditch! Skies are blue and our bus pulls up at 9.20 sharp. First stop Gibbston Valley winery where an entrepreneurial Irishman decided on hiring a few explosives experts to extend his property under the next door mountain. Not strictly legal, but bloody oath, next level awesome. Brand new, sound proof party zone and perfect conditions for maturing the fermented grape stuff. Happy AF that the insultingly awful Sauvignon Blank hails from the Southern parts of these lands and won’t be appearing on our tasting menus today. On the subject of grape varietals, I have personally always considered Pinot Noir not to be a real wine, more a slightly watered down version of something tasty. Let’s get cracking on my edumucation!

There is a touch of guilt and something sublimely pleasing about raising the first vino of the day just after 10 bells, Pinot Gris, don’t mind if I do.

Predictably, the noise level in the bus is on the up as we exit the second winery, a few of the more strident tasters are coming round to the idea of some swinging or a cheeky skydive!

Round 3 on our tour involves a BBQ lunch as well as a few more slurps. My Pinot Noir journey is well underway and I have to confess to being a convert. No standard BBQ here, some clever Kiwis have repurposed wine barrels into a sort of smoker/blast furnace, hybrid thing that does proper justice to chunks of protein. 5 courses of this with matching grape juice and the bus volume heads up another notch.

Cheese platter with more wine and noise last up, then a quick stop in historic Arrowtown for a shoofty around. A swift lap of this 100m long town gave us just enough time for a cheeky pit stop in the pub and a pint of ginger bear, (Not a spelling mistake).

Inevitably the day ended up in a bar back in Queenstown with the bus driver in tow, gunna be a slow start tomorrow.

Brekky and coffee consumed, time for a wander up the gondola just behind our pad. Views over this fabulous place are next level. Just for giggles, some genius has carved a Luge track into the side of the hill. Let’s be careful we say to each other, one more day on the slopes tomorrow! 2 minutes later, these little buggers are on 2 wheels around the bends, maximum grin factor activated. There is also a handy chairlift back to the top of the track and a few more injury attempts.

Safely back down in town, we give the ice bar a wide berth and take a gentle stroll around the botanic gardens. Walking around such a beautiful place clearly not enough for some. Some bellend has combined a forest, frisbees and a few buckets with chains into frisbee golf! I thought nothing could surprise me. The education continues!

In a nation of sheep botherers, Queenstown is almost totally populated by foreign nationals proudly sporting name badges with country of origin flags. Maybe this is some sort of safety system for the sheep. There is however a large statue of a welly wearing, Velcro gloved individual lording it over his wooly friend down by the marina! Quick waft around the pond on a cruise, then off to the Bunker for a few courses of luxury and an early start up the slopes for our last day.

Things are getting serious when the bus driver pulls over to fit snow chains a quarter of the way up the hill. Up to the top and 12cm of fresh powder has dusted the playground. Legburn o’clock appears to be here again and off we trot. Day three on the slopes after 25 and 30 years, we are carving graceful, curvy patterns down the mountain, no fun at all. 4 hours of grin infested giggles later, it is time to press the buggered button, return the rental gear and kill some time in the bar before our 4 bells bus back down. What a seriously awesome place this is. Home for a shower and a change, then out for a Mexican ahead of a stupidly early flight home. A few spicy micheladas and general starfish bothering nibbles, could be a rough flight for those near 20 A&B.

Can’t believe it took us 23 years to get here, we will be back in a heartbeat. Thank you Queenstown, thank you to our new sponsors, Pinot Noir, The Botswana Butchery and protein purveyors in general. See you soon xxx

The Mrs wafted into Aldi a couple of months ago and noticed some ridiculously cheap ski gear. Neither of us have seen snow for 25 years, let alone entertained the idea of a holiday involving trying to stay warm! Never afraid of a challenge, two sets of gear came home in outsized bags before being swiftly despatched to the store room downstairs. The seed however was sown.

Sorry, but Aussie skiing is overpriced, overcrowded, super short runs and sh!t. Checked out a bunch of other options before having a peek at NZ and Japan. One of these destinations appears to cater for outdoor activities in general, the other seems to involve school age chicks in underwear. Took the obvious choice and headed for fun and games.

So we look South at NZ and booked a flight. Aldi gear packed with a whole bunch of hand and feet warmers.

Not enormously happy with an early start, or the refusal of our pathetic $300 offer for upgrades to wanky class, so bugger it and off we trot. If you have to fly in the back of the plane, do it with the rat on the tail, we have a few thousand skydives between us, none of which have involved comfy seats so Qantas economy is fine for the three hour hop.

Holy fu(k! The flight path in is awesome, Bundy where are you? Mountains avoided, this is a display of pilot training and rocky stuff avoided.

Less than a couple of hours later we land in our penthouse pad. Fu(k me, no time for chilling out or getting on the piss, need to sort out our boots, ski bits and transfers. The InfoandSnow mob fixed up the transport up the mountain and the ease of collecting our gear upstairs. Nothing fun about carrying skis and boots!

So maybe time for a nibble and a beverage or two? This place truly is an adult playground with unlimited eateries and liquid refreshment options, bloody oath, let’s play. Headed down to the lake and got stuck into the local ale and fermented grape juice selection, don’t mind if we do. Peckish after such an exhausting morning and a few slurps, seafood chowder and some sort of risotto thingy put the hungry monsters to sleep for long enough to check out a few more purveyors of beverages. Couldn’t find a kebab so somewhat predictably we ended up in an Irish pub for nachos and a couple of pints before the relatively short stagger home.

5.30am alarms are never fun, 5.30am alarms with a slightly sore head are significantly less fun. Self inflicted injuries aside, we donned our posh Aldi gear, oversized Temu ski goggles and a pocket full of hand warmer thingys before tackling the six minute walk to the bus stop. “Bear and Jackie?”, that’s us, off we go.

The last time J4x strapped skis on, Sammy was happily becoming Sammy in his first trimester. For me, 25 years ago that ended with a fifty cent sized piece of shoulder bone dislodged after an unwise high speed descent! What could possibly go wrong? Unusually sensible, we booked into our second ever ski lesson, collected a very child like length of skis and headed out to the chilly white stuff. Heading up the ‘magic carpet’ chairlift to the top of the beginners zone, I was quietly crapping myself. The aftermath of ales, chilli nachos and memories of missing shoulder bits didn’t help. Holy crap! Back on the slope, I am Franz Klammer again, can’t fu(king believe it! J4x adapts quickly without the worry of an unborn child and off we go. The lesson resumed after lunch and off we went to the adult lifts. Unreal experience and maximum grin factor all round. Popped into a couple of bars and an Italian for a feed and relatively early bed.

Slightly sore legs and head the next morning we headed up the gondola behind us for a few laps down the luge track and epic views over this awesome town. Checked into the Botswana Butchery for a feed and relatively early bed. Back on the slopes tomorrow.

No faffing about with lessons today, quick run up the magic carpets to the top of the kiddy run then a gentle leg warmer down to the chair lift and off to the serious stuff. Have to admit that AU$250 worth of Aldi ski gear is next level awesome, windy AF on the chairlifts without a shiver. I have never been surprised at how awesome Jackie actually is, back on the slopes like she was born there, looking and generally being fu(king awesome. Ended the day with a blast down the longest run on the mountain. Weather looking generally shit tomorrow so heading down another path.

We have met a few swingers in our time, names obviously unmentioned but sharing is not really our gig. Here we are in an adult playground and swinging seems to be popular. This variety involves a very unsexy bondage harness and fully clothed misbehaviour. Jump onto a swing seat with the Mrs and hope for the best. “Do you want a countdown or a surprise?” says our cheery operator. Countdown please! 5,4 then 321 in unintelligible speed! Click! Fu(k! Back in free fall together, this time seriously considering how sensible the double burger and cheese from Fergburger was and the potential impact on the underpants. The downy down bit then morphs into a graceful arc way over the massive canyon, holy sh!t this is awesome. Judging by the pictures, this looks like my idea, no! JT suggested and orchestrated this lunacy. Seems like the grim reaper has missed us once again. That is a wrap!

Off wine tasting tomorrow!

Woke up on our final morning to glassy waters and crystal blue skies, wannabe influencers wafting around on stand up paddle boards desperately trying to convince people that they will never meet, that they must hit a ‘like’ button on their accounts in the hope of never actually needing a real job. For the tiny percentage that will ever earn enough for a Balinese Bintang, I wish you the very best of luck and hope your phone is waterproof!

Back onto Bluewater Express for us and the 3 hour blast back to Serangan. 6, 250HP Suzuki’s and a beer or two made short work of the trip before we were happily awaiting our transport to Uluwatu. All very civil, “Pink Coco for Bear and Jackie” over the tannoy as we make our way sheepishly to our SUV. Thought that a couple of ales would be pleasant for the 1 hour trip so nipped into the little supermarket for provisions. Big mistake as 1 hour morphs to 2 and our driver opts for the 4WD track. Arrived at Pink Coco check-in and bolted for the bladder emptying facilities.

Some of the reviews of this place were a touch edgy but our penthouse suite was well away from any potential room key raffle sessions! Unreal views over the forest to the ocean and perfect serenity. Grabbed a change of underwear and clothes before heading to dinner.

As a chef, I have fairly lofty standards when it comes to things proclaiming to be food. Starters were epic and scoffed, sans evidence. Smoked Butterfish Ceviche and a steamed vongole thingy in some sort of sweet jar were incredible and delicious. Box firmly ticked and looking forward to mains. This sadly became a 180 degree turn from our starters. Confit Duck breast with plum sauce and 24 hour braised octopus on a bed of something looked pretty good if you have never eaten confit duck or octopus. I could have saved a fortune at my local cobbler by having the bloke nail that bugger onto the soles then using the octopus as the shoelaces, fu(k that! Didn’t fancy offending the chef and risking a side of Bali Belly sauce, so nipped over the road for plate of sardines and prawns before bed.

Happy AF that there was no rattle of keys or gentle taps on the door as we snuggled into our pink pillows and a blissful sleep.

Scampered down to the very pink dining room the next morning to fetch tea, coffee and general wakey, wakey bits for J4X. Noticed a lass or two there who looked like they had a sh!tty experience with bees overnight, somehow though, just stung on the lips, looked fu(king ugly and painful, keep an eye out for bees in Uluwatu! Bees heaps: Influencers 0. Also kept a beady eye out for the octopus/duck destroyer then nipped back up 3 flights of stairs to our birds nest, mission accomplished.

Thought that a wander to Uluwatu Beach was a good idea. It was, including the moment that the ticket office relieved us of a handful of Rupiah. Down the dodgy steps we go and wow, the beach. Maybe we are spoiled a little with the best beaches in the world but this is a new low. Barely enough standing room for the thousand or so ticket paying attendees. Way less room when the instagram set have made camp right on the shoreline. A small tsunami soon clears out the first row or two. Waves 50ish: Influencers and idiots 0

Maybe the bar at the end of the beach offers some respite from the cycle-short wearing, trout face, bee sting lip types? No not really, although it did provide some entertainment as an opportunistic member of the local monkey troupe grabbed a wallet and headed for the cliffs. Monkey 1: Influencers 0

Wallets and sunnies secure and not fancying a cliff climb or possession hunt, a return to pink perfection and a shower was the democratically voted option. Off out to dinna with Hazza and Jazza for our last night here. Teju and Temu sound similar, one is cheap, Chinese and generally tacky. The other is an astounding restaurant looking down the valley. Holy crap and thank you beautiful Harri and James for finding this gem, can’t wait to see you in Sydney this Xmas.

Did find an amusing sign in the dunny. Personally, have never found the urge to give the feet a rinse in one of these. Back to our room for a slightly past curfew bedtime!

Gentle uppy up in the morning and the obligatory tea/coffee. Then a last tickle at Bali style, poached eggs on muffins before our 12 noon checkout. Dumped the bags at reception and decided to head for pastures less pink! Ulu Fish Market seemed like a cracking idea, so hopped into a cab in search of sushi and Bintang. Shady, heaps of fans, world class nibbles and icy cold beer, what could possibly go wrong?

10pm flight booked and Google Maps says 1hr to the airport. Have given up listening to Google Maps and guessed a solid 2 hours. Sadly not far wrong, but as the one hour mark passed and remembering the leg crossing distress of the Bintang assisted journey from the Port up here, definitely regretting that seventh beer during the afternoon. Seatbelt now anchored firmly around the knee and avoiding all pressure on the bladder region. Sweats building gently as serious shakes and visual impairment become a concern, bloody Google Maps still says half an hour to go. Seriously starting to lose the will to live as the tiny water bottle in the seat pocket shapes up as a legitimate target. How the hell am I going to discharge the water bottle contents, then 3 large Pilsners and 4 Bintangs via the window without significant spillage or attracting the driver’s attention? Fortunately for all concerned, gentlemen’s behaviour took priority, water bottle still safe for the next passenger and the pointy water faucet remained enclosed. Thank fu(k for a speedy check in and a zoom through to the lounge. Large gin and Tonic please!

Cheers QF44, coming home xxx What an awesome trip xxxx

Time for a bit of a mooch around the island! Didn’t fancy subjecting myself or the ponies to another game of, ‘Drag the bear in a small cart’, so opted for a a more suitable electric scooter. This thing is good for about 25 kph with a fair wind behind, but perfect for hauling us on the quest for the coldest beer. Unlike the failed kebab hunt in Turkiye with the unforgivable sin of chips ‘IN’ the bloody kebab, beer here has been pretty acceptable. With few exceptions the beverage  that seemingly sponsors many hairy armed Aussies, has been cold, plentiful and cheap. Our little scooter did pretty much what it says on the tin, not a lot! My whipper-snipper gets moving quicker than this thing. There is a handy horn for annoying influencers mid content filming and a light for those, after dark/shoulda left earlier, occasions. A gentle potter up to Turtle Beach on the North of the Island was first on the agenda. Beach bean bags settled into. 2 ice cold Bintangs please. A mumble of Bahasa suggested that we were off to a poor start. “I can put a few in the freezer”, chirps our friendly waiter. Hmmm, was kinda hoping for now ish on the first beer front! Simple, speedy solution implemented by brand substitution, crisis avoided! 

J4X managed to befriend a local lawnmowing/fertilising contractor before the greedy little bugger made a B-line for the straw hat. Time to fire up the trusty scooter and amble on. 

Generally, I get to be the only bear on the premises, so a little surprised to find a whole row them taking up the sofas, slurping ale and generally being rowdy. Another round of Bintangs please!

Pink Coco up next! We have booked into a Pink Coco hotel for our last couple of nights in Uluwatu, so keen for a shoofty! Pink is a bit of an understatement and the all glass internal walls could be a touch confronting. Also confronting is the possibility that guests in this adults only venue possibly share more than Bintangs. No dramas with pink or glass walls but certainly not a fan of the whole, ‘room keys into the hat’ thing so will be avoiding that like the plague if it rears its ugly head. Two gin and tonics please. Got to love a venue that starts 2 for 1 happy hour at midday. Cheers!

Off back to our humble abode for a siesta before a trip back West for sunset. Weather looked a little iffy later, but sod it, only water right. Half way round the island, the water was getting a tad shouty, so hit the brakes and dived into a bar before the skies opened. Grazed out way though some nibbles and a selection of beverages waiting for the rain to stop. Spotted a couple of lasses looking a touch damp on horseback. Have to assume they were off to shoot some sunset footage and came off second best. Weather 2: Influencers 0. 

Just as the weather was clearing, Essex couple, Lee and Ellie from the wedding pop up so off we go to the Irish bar to say hi. Couple of quiet libations before navigating flooded roads back to bed.

I blame it on the weather, but woke up with an annoyingly sore ear. That and the colds we have been incubating appear to reaching their adult phase. Off to the Quack then! General anti snot/coughy stuff prescribed plus ear drops and a session on the nebuliser for JAX. Our sponsors, ElfBar, Gordon’s and Bintang have denied any responsibility for this.

Another gentle arvo before heading out on the scoot for a sunset feed. On the way home, the poor little scooter battery went from 3 bars of happiness to angry flashing red in about 200 metres, so sloped into last night’s rain refuge for a few nightcaps and another fire dance session, whilst the scoot slurped enough charge to get us home.

Hoping some of this anti cold/ear stuff does some of its business before the morning and our boat ride across the Lombok Straight!

So, the wedding of a lifetime quietly ends as family and friends drift to other parts of the island. For us, a gentle 20ish km to the port town of Serangan before hopping on a boat the next day. An hour or so, Bali’s version of Uber said. No worries, we stocked up on a few cold ones and hopped into the back. Almost 2 hours later the driver stops at a 24hr mart for a piss, we decided this would be a perfect opportunity to grab some more piss and hop back into the cab! Bladders were a touch feisty as we checked into our new home! 

Bladders now empty, we headed out for a refill and a feed. The thought of hopping onto a boat across the Lombok Straight the next morning was there somewhere as we ordered the seafood platter and a few Bintangs. The platter arrived coated in some unidentifiable brown sauce, and everything else with a serving of chilli something. We will always be a team, so we tucked in together. Not sure if nappies are available tomorrow, may need them. Still peckish after round 1 so smashed out some octopus and a few more prawns, with more Bintang! What could possibly go wrong?

Wobbled back to our digs and overjoyed to find the bar open! It has been a crazy day on top of a couple of crazy weeks. A couple of nightcap Bintangs and we were tucked up in bed. 

Waking up was always going to dictate the next day. An urgent dash to the porcelain was going to be a sure clue that a long, painful day lay ahead. Thankfully, no such sprinting required, quiet brekky and a short ride to the port where we met up with Hazza and Jazza. The ride from Serangan to Gili T is only about 100km. Some of the vessels plying their trade on this route look a little worse for wear and have clearly seen more use than your average Bali dunny. The worrying sight of the ‘Ozempic/Need a seatbelt extender set’ frantically waving paper fans was comical but slightly disturbing. The boat we chose was rated by some as “The least worst!” In reality it was a less than a year old, a 26 metre beast with four inboard 380HP diesels. Seats were comfy AF and fully airconditioned. Oh, and a handy bar for washing down the sea sickness tablets that they hand out when you check in, don’t mind if I do!

Couple of hours later and we arrive at Gili Trawangan. Our new home was deliberately only a few minutes walk from the port, so off we trotted. On the subject of trotting though, that is the only horsepower on the Island. The 4 legged variety. The other transport are pushbikes or electric scooters. Sounds like paradise.

Paradise it is, utter peace and quiet, a short walk from an almost unlimited selection of bars and restaurants. Did pretty much sweet FA on our first night and slid back to our room. Our ‘room’ here is spacious and comfortable inside, with our own walled garden, private pool and daybed. Gunna be a great week.

Tempted by a spot of snorkelling, we bumped into a lad who claimed he was starting a new business, had a 6 month old boat and would take the 4 of us out for four hours for about AU$150. Dumb, maybe. But sometimes, a bit of faith and a squirt of hope works out. 6 month old boat was probably a wee porky, but the trip was epic. Given that most of the popular tourist spots are swamped, setting out an hour early is an awesome idea. Soon enough though, other vessels show up looking like they have taken a wrong turn from the French Coast! Heaps of life jacket wearing hopefuls clinging to floaties and wondering why they can’t dive down. Funny but sad! Not sad however, is the speed that 4 people can hop back onto a vessel and zoom off to the next spot. Not sure if the life jacket mobs made it to Kent or another dive site but we spent the rest of the day in clear water. Awesome corals, turtles and fish a plenty. No buyers remorse on this one, tipped the guys handsomely and headed home for a nap.

Heading out to dinner on the other side of the island, we opted for the horse and cart taxi. Personally, when it comes to beasts. Horses, elephants and dogs are well down the page. On the plus side, however, Gili T has no elephants or dogs and the pony that dragged our rickety little cart for 10 mins was entirely inoffensive.

Sunset here generally involves avoiding or pushing so-called influencers out of the way. Grabbed a couple of piccies and returned to the safety of our sofas. Safety here however is never guaranteed. A couple of chaps appeared looking like they had raided some hotel bedrooms and pinched amongst other stuff, a few hat stands. The ends were wrapped with oil soaked bandages and hey presto, fire dance! Even more impressive when one of the aforementioned bandages detached from the hat stand and set fire to a tablecloth. Fire chap, 1: Influencers, 0.

Tomorrow is a new day.

So it’s adios Türkiye. A week of fun and games here and the search of the perfect Döner Kebab, some walking and a wind down from madness that Richard Branson served up. Self served stuff in Barcelona, a bath or two and a few walks with a lager or two in Istanbul. Sadly, we have to admit defeat in the kebab matter as excuses around inflation have now invaded the original late night snack. I have to confess to scoffing a fair number of these greasy, chilli sauce infested delicacies, often whilst waiting at the end of some underground station for a cab after falling asleep and being woken up by frustrated staff.

Imagine ordering your Döner in London or Sydney, (Or anywhere else for that matter), watching the delicious landslide of grease and other things that cascade with each expert knife swipe. Then watch as some clown weighs out a pathetic grammage and pops it into a pita with a bunch of French Fries! Are you fu(king kidding? There would be riots on the streets and protests! Never, ever have I ordered fries with a Döner, no way they will taste good with congealed kebab in the morning. Never, ever have I seen fries IN the kebab, except here in the home of kebabs in Turkey. A fu(king disgrace! Head away from the touristy areas and this evil behaviour is still pervasive. About AU$30 for a few scraps of dodgy offcuts mixed with fried potatoes.

Fortunately, we found a couple of decent eateries in Kadıköy offering dishes, sans fries embedded. Managed to smash an iron/protein dish without fries, liver, octopus, sardine and unidentified seafood mainly! Luxury Turkish bath one arvo for Mrs T and a couple of local beverages for the Bear. A stack of walks and ferry rides, too good.

16 Million humans in this City, probably 14 million or so involved in some sort of floor covering, weighed offal, fake jewellery or knock off replica goods enterprises. We have a habit of sniffing out misbehaviour, honesty, fun and have enjoyed every experience we’ve encountered to the max. Enjoyed this one, yes. Return, no. Sorry.

After the last taxi experience, we swore never again. Local hotel says cab is the easiest way to the airport and we must have had an unfortunate experience with Travis Bickle on the way in. OK then, let’s go. OMG, Travis mark II arrives in what looks like a Russian car out of an old Bond movie, here we go again! All good until he gets over about 100kph and the car starts to vibrate. Travis/Mehmet decides that his vehicle may be somewhat unroadworthy so stops to hop out for an inspection. He gives all four wheels a good kick or two, then a shake with his ape sized hands before hopping back in and barking some Turkish into a translation app. “Don’t worry, just a bent rim”, as he blasts back up to 130. If it’s going to end this way, so be it, I grab Jackie’s sweltering paw and hope for the best. If it’s going to be this way, a couple of thousand skydives together and a stack more misbehaviour then slide out on a dodgy wheel, so be it, we exit together.

The Imam’s are screeching in the background. We hold hands and look each other in the eye until somehow, the airport turnoff mercifully arrives and the rear wheel of our rented chariot starts smoking. We hand him a hefty tip and suggest he visits his local mechanic.

Gate 5 at the airport is for people who paid a few more pennies for airline transport, so in we go. Fast track through the general grubbiness and queues of check-in, security and passport control then off to the lounge. Still no kebab, so giving up on protein and focussing on more enjoyable stuff.

Still no bloody kebab in the lounge, and the bar is a little trolly of bottles, could be worse😃

On the flight now. Happily looking forwards to the long flight and our beautiful house xxx

Starting to look like Coco the Clown again so I ventured out onto the streets of Istanbul in search of a barber. Didn’t have to look too hard as there are heaps here. Found a bloke mopping his floor and thought, “You’ll do!”

He waves me over to a chair and proceeds to choke me with some sort of elasticated, Velcro dunny paper. Fu(k me, it’s Sweeney Todd, I’m done for! Fortunately, the nasty looking razor stayed in its stand and an immaculately clean cape gets wrapped around the dunny paper that was then carefully folded over the cape. Out come the clippers and some words that to me sounded like, chilli sauce large Döner, whilst waving three fingers. My arms were securely pinned inside the cape and waving four fingers back was not an option, so I just nodded.

That will be a No.3 on top then, and a number fu(k all elsewhere. Looks like the first day of basic training again. Oh well, it will grow back. Off comes the cape and out come the clippers again to give the sticky out of T-shirt area a bit of a mow. I thought that a small sheep noise at this moment would be witty and amusing. Baaaaa! Almost instant regret as the shearing is finished and Sweeney Todd squirts some sort of aftershave onto a giant cotton wool bud and sets fire to it. He gives it a bit of a shake, I assumed to put it out but the bugger is still burning!! The next bit is like watching the Rural Fire Service doing some back burning. Except, this version includes ear hair as the unwanted undergrowth and a small bonfire roars to life in my right ear! The first fire hazard is extinguished as the beginnings of another bushfire are ignited in the left ear. I spotted a fire extinguisher in the mirror and was about to make a dash for it before the warning level returned to ‘watch and act’.

Next comes out this little round, buzzing thingy to clear out any bits that the inferno failed to consume. Thank fu(k neither got near my nose!

Cape off, Lira handed over and I’m off to the chemist for blister treatment followed by a stress relieving Efes or two!

Sweeney Todd is going to have to mop the floor again!!!