January's Flying By...

How is it the third week of January already?! HOW? I’m convinced time goes faster when you’re upside down. There must be scientific evidence to prove it somewhere?!

Following my previous post about regrouping, everything has changed. I am now doing at least one run a week, plus I’ve taken up regular swimming and have significantly cut back on my coffee and alcohol intake. And I feel GREAT!

On top of that, I had 10 days off over Christmas and New Year, allowing me to catch up on sleep, generally revive myself and, more importantly, tick a few things off my ‘to go/do/experience’ list.  I experienced a hot Christmas, watched the start of the Sydney-Hobart Yacht race, visited Palm Beach (the setting of Home & Away), experienced opening night of the Sydney Festival, tried stand up paddle boarding, and went to the Apia International Tennis Men’s Final (sort of). But those are stories I’ll tell you about at a later date. (I keep saying that don’t I? I need to get into the swing of regular blogging again!)

Today is THE BIG ONE though. The two main reasons I even considered coming to Australia are about to be checked off my list. Tonight I fly out to Melbourne: the city my parents lived in for three and a half years, and the home of The Australian Open. To say I’m excited is an understatement.

For those who know me, aside from the fact I’m not keen on flying, I’d be quite content if my job was to follow the ATP tour around the globe. One of my ambitions is to go to all four Grand Slam tournaments within one year (I’m secretly hoping this will be that year, although I know I need to win the lottery for that dream to become a reality), and so this is a big deal to me! After YEARS of staying up late to watch matches and organising my birthday plans around the final, I’m finally getting my wish to experience it first-hand. One day of grounds admission and another in Rod Laver Arena! Dream. Come. True.

On my one “day off” from tennis (on which I fully expect myself to end up either back at the grounds or watching in a bar) I’m heading out of the city to find the place where my parents used to live. I’ve been told SO MANY stories about this place (many I’ve heard so many times I can repeat them accurately as if I were there) that it’s been on my bucket list for YEARS. My parents are the reason I’m in Australia now. Without their stories I would never have thought of coming over here, so to visit their old home sort of feels like I’m fulfilling some kind of family rite of passage.

And with that said, it’s now time for me to head off to the airport and bid Sydney farewell for a few days… wish me luck!

Heading to Melbourne...

I strongly believe in buying yourself a Birthday present each year. I’s nice to mark the occasion with something nice and there's the added bonus of getting something which is exactly what you want.

This year, as I'm in Australia and have no idea if I'll still be here next year, I went all out and treated myself to a trip to Melbourne and tickets to the Australian Open.

I'll be spending three days in Melbourne in total - two at the Open and one visiting the neighbourhood where my parents used to live. Thus ticking off two major life ambitions in one short weekend.

On Saturday night I jet off and (once I get over the slight panic of flying having to get on a plane) I couldn't be more excited!

A Very Soggy Apia International

As the new year starts, most people spiral into a pit of depression in the UK. There are the bleak winter months to get through, we've all just binged our way through the festive season, and on top of that we're all in the process of setting ourselves up with unrealistic New Year resolutions which we know we're ultimately going to fail at.

But not in Australia, oh no! In the southern hemisphere it’s the height of summer, which means long hot days followed by warm blissful evenings and weeks on end of glorious sunshine in picture perfect settings… right? WRONG!

I've literally never experienced rainfall like that of the Australian summer. And I’m British - I know my rain! Gone are the days of camping trips in the beautiful English countryside, sheltering and shivering inside your tent and mumbling something along the lines of "I wish we lived in Australia where it’s all sunshine and beaches". Now I know it’s all a massive con. All these years I've thought us Brits had it bad - how misled we were! Rain here is apocalyptic. It’s either nice weather or it’s the end of the world. The streets turn to rivers and wind becomes your umbrella's worst nightmare.

Anyway, January in Australia is where the tennis year kicks off – which means not only is it the month of the Australian Open, but it's also a month packed with smaller warm-up ATP and WTA tournaments. So as a treat to myself, a friend and I booked tickets to the men's final of the APIA International in Sydney, and were both pretty chuffed that we could, a – afford the tickets in the first place, and b – were actually attending a final! Dream come true! Right? WRONG!

On the day of the finals the weather report showed showers.But that was okay, we are British after all. We know how to handle rain delays. But for the past few weeks, the weather had been what we Brits like to refer to as 'changeable'. Showers were forecast pretty much every day but actually experiencing them was hit-and-miss.

We arrived at the grounds early – where everything was already soggy from the earlier showers – and the rain pretty much kicked in straight away. Heavy drizzle. Fantastic! For anyone who has ever attended a tennis event, you’ll know that there is nowhere to shelter from the elements. Rain or shine, it's either the overhanging stands of a show court (flashback to Wimbledon) or the on-site shop (flashback to Wimbledon again) that provide protection.

An hour of sheltering went by before an announcement came: play had been suspended due to the rain but they were hoping to start the match within than half hour. So we filled the gap by getting something to eat. But that half an hour turned into an hour. Then an hour and a half. Then the rain stopped! Eagerly taking our seats in the stadium, we settled ourselves in and… then I witnessed one of the most bizarre rituals I've ever come across at a tennis event.

Now, I have only ever attended grass-court or indoor tournaments prior to this, so maybe this isn’t odd at all, but I can’t help but think there must be a better way to dry a court…

Step 1: Give the ball boys/girls a towel each

Step 2: Line them up

Step 3: Get them to drag their towel across the length of the court 2 or 3 times

Step 4: Enlist the help of the linesmen and arm them with leaf-blowing machines

Step 5: Get them to wonder around to court drying out remaining puddles

Strange, non? Would covers of some form not be easier? I realise this clearly isn’t the case – my faith is in the hundreds of tennis professionals that work at these tournaments and venues – it just all seemed a little bit time-consuming considering the situation.

Anyway - so the court was dry. The players were about to come out… and then there was another heavy downpour. After which, the drying process was repeated. And again. And again. Life became a bit like groundhog day. Rain. Bizarre drying ritual. Rain. Bizarre drying ritual. Rain. Bizarre drying ritual. I witnessed it happen 4 times. And then play was cancelled for the day. BRILLIANT!

I had moved to the other side of the world, where the Tourism Australia ads PROMISED year-round sunshine, only to find that it’s actually just as rainy (if not more) than England, And tennis events here not only get suspended due to rain, they also get fully cancelled.

So off we trudged – getting soaked by the rain (neither of us had an umbrella) and piling into a freezing bus (air-con was up full whack as it’s summer – there appears to be a rule that during summer, no matter how hot or cold it is, air con is always on!) that would take us back to the station. Game over.

Fortunately we were given the option of returning the next day. Neither of us could attend so we opted for a refund instead. And what was the first thing I did when I got home? Google the dates for next year's tournament of course! I will not be defeated...

New Year in Sydney

When you've moved from London to Sydney and New Year Eve rolls around, there’s only really one way you’re going to spend your evening isn't there? Sydney has one of the most famous New Year firework displays in the world and, having grown up watching TV coverage of the display every year, there was no way I was going to miss out on experiencing it in person.

Fortunately for me, my office is based in Milsons Point and sits just above Luna Park. There is a massive double balcony, complete with BBQ, which looks out across Lavender Bay, towards Darling Harbour and (most importantly) at the Sydney Harbour Bridge.

Waking up on New Year’s Eve to the warm weather was a good omen. I kicked off the day the polar opposite to how I would at home – which would probably include sleeping in, spending the day prepping myself for the evening ahead and travelling to wherever I was celebrating, Instead, I was up early and my first port of call was a swim here:

Not a bad way to end 2011, huh?

That evening, I met up with a few friends and we made our way to the office. Battling through the hundreds of people making their way down to the harbour’s edge reinforced just how fortunate I was to have landed myself a job with such an amazing location.

Settling in for the evening at the office, the drinks flowed, music played and we all hung out on the balcony awaiting one of the greatest shows in the world. Although arriving early to avoid the crowds on public transport, there was plenty to keep us occupied - including an impromptu visit to the sausage sizzle across the street whilst try to locate the bottle shop with the shortest queue, one of my friends getting locked out of building for a considerable amount of time without anyone noticing, plus the usual drunken antics.

What they don’t tell you on TV is that the main display at midnight is not the only one of the evening. At 9pm them is a warm-up firework display, meaning that families with young kids or long distances to travel can still join in the fun. Then, on the hour every hour, there are short bursts of fireworks which act as a ‘countdown’. It’s basically fireworks galore. And if there is one thing the Australians can do amazingly well (apart from coffee, drinking and brunch) it’s fireworks. The photos don't do it justice, but here's a snippet of what we saw:

And to make things a little bit more magical, after travelling back to the office on New Year’s Day to help clean up, I spent my afternoon drinking champagne at Opera Bar with this as my view:

Happy 2012 everyone!