That was until the boys from London arrived, and my body was subjected to a good and proper poisoning.
It was worth it too. They were all staying in the Beach Road Hotel in Bondi, and much hilarity was had over the course of about 4 days while they were here. I also got a small taste of the rum that Rob had bought for me until its contents were emptied onto the floor of the hotel room, by a clumsy clown.
Parts I can remember are a number of bars throughout Bondi, a big night out in Coogee, involving wrestling,
massages, champagne, sweaty sweaty clappy clappy, random taxi journeys, loosing people, sleeping on a broken sofa bed, Ols snoring, the digital camera kids, a college disco somewhere in The Rocks, loosing my chain from Brazil, having the first hangover in weeks, and sitting in the special children bus. I can understand why Blake and Lisa have decided to escape and stay out here.
Even while my body was repairing itself from the damage inflicted on it, I went to an interview at the
Intercontinental hotel. The initial position I had applied for was Telecommunications Officer. To me, this sounds like a substantial and rewarding position and I was fairly eager. When the details of the position came through, I was less enamoured, as the job title should be changed to 'telephonist'. While Im not belittling it and I still went for the interview, it really hasnt got the same career prospects.
After being interviewed by a nice English lady in HR, I get to meet the front office staff. They decide I might be better suited to bellboy. This is another change from what I expected but I thought it worthwhile at least.
I could tell they liked me and I got the job. Bellboy though. Did I come all the way around the world to be a
bell boy?
To cope with this dilemma, I felt a breath of fresh air was needed and I escape for a few days up to Byron Bay.
Becky lives up there, and I wasnt sure when I would next get the chance to see her, so I thought it a good chance to get out of town and see a bit of the country. The first thing I recommend for coach journies in Australia, is make sure you take a large quantity of valium before you set off. The journey one way was 12 hours, and the seats are not that comfortable, and certainly difficult to sleep in without distorting your neck. The second thing I suggest is scrap the coach and fly; its easier, quicker and less painful, and there is not too great a difference in cost.
It was lovely to see Becky, but she did have to work for a couple of days when I was up there. That was fine, as she also lent me the van, so I explored around the beach to the lighthouse, had a few hours surfing here and there, sunbathed and generally enjoyed the town. She took me to an open air church on the saturday, with logs for pews, set on the top of a hill, overlooking a very welsh looking valley, followed by an old hippy commune in Nimbin, with every citizen trying to sell me their herbal products if you know what I mean, from cookies to bags of rastafarian tobacco. The museum there is worth the journey alone. To complete the show of diversity of Australian culture, we went to a Rodeo in Bangalow. There we saw 6 children in the 5 to 8 year old category, damage parts of the body that should be given a chance to grow, at least until they father children. I looked very out of place, and it was good being the only tourist. The uniform of Drizabone oilskin coat and cowboy hat was everywhere. VB beer was in everyones hand, and the air was thick with farm talk, town gossip, and animal waste products. I returned sometime Sunday bemused at what goes on in the country.
Intercontinental hotel. The initial position I had applied for was Telecommunications Officer. To me, this sounds like a substantial and rewarding position and I was fairly eager. When the details of the position came through, I was less enamoured, as the job title should be changed to 'telephonist'. While Im not belittling it and I still went for the interview, it really hasnt got the same career prospects.
After being interviewed by a nice English lady in HR, I get to meet the front office staff. They decide I might be better suited to bellboy. This is another change from what I expected but I thought it worthwhile at least.
I could tell they liked me and I got the job. Bellboy though. Did I come all the way around the world to be a
bell boy?
To cope with this dilemma, I felt a breath of fresh air was needed and I escape for a few days up to Byron Bay.
Becky lives up there, and I wasnt sure when I would next get the chance to see her, so I thought it a good chance to get out of town and see a bit of the country. The first thing I recommend for coach journies in Australia, is make sure you take a large quantity of valium before you set off. The journey one way was 12 hours, and the seats are not that comfortable, and certainly difficult to sleep in without distorting your neck. The second thing I suggest is scrap the coach and fly; its easier, quicker and less painful, and there is not too great a difference in cost.
It was lovely to see Becky, but she did have to work for a couple of days when I was up there. That was fine, as she also lent me the van, so I explored around the beach to the lighthouse, had a few hours surfing here and there, sunbathed and generally enjoyed the town. She took me to an open air church on the saturday, with logs for pews, set on the top of a hill, overlooking a very welsh looking valley, followed by an old hippy commune in Nimbin, with every citizen trying to sell me their herbal products if you know what I mean, from cookies to bags of rastafarian tobacco. The museum there is worth the journey alone. To complete the show of diversity of Australian culture, we went to a Rodeo in Bangalow. There we saw 6 children in the 5 to 8 year old category, damage parts of the body that should be given a chance to grow, at least until they father children. I looked very out of place, and it was good being the only tourist. The uniform of Drizabone oilskin coat and cowboy hat was everywhere. VB beer was in everyones hand, and the air was thick with farm talk, town gossip, and animal waste products. I returned sometime Sunday bemused at what goes on in the country.
My first paid days work was on Monday and fortunately it was purely orientation. I got to meet the General Manager, find out about the history of the hotel and watch a marketing video explaining how wonderful the hotel and the brand is. Funnily enough, 6 continents Hotels, of which Intercontinental, Crown Plaza and Holiday Inn are part of, is actually owned by Bass Breweries. Im working for a British company!
Anyway, its dull; I dont give two hoots for the hotel and certainly cant see a 4 year stint as bell boy possible,
unlike some of the blokes who have been working there from 2 to 10 years.
Being a 5 star hotel, there are a lot of wealthy guests and V.R.P. very rich people. None of these people bother
with tips and so its left to the ordinary folk who are treating themselves a bit, to give the tips to the staff. I'm sure that if Karma had something to do with it then I would be getting bigger tips. I consider that I have always
tipped well, yet Im not getting much in return. Saying that, the Australians arent big on tipping anyway.
The worst part is the starting times. I think I need to be jet-lagged to cope, as my start time is usually 7am.
I cant understand it! 7am is an inhuman time to work at. Its money though, so I might as well make the most of it.
In the mean time, I am getting to meet the woman who runs the hostel where I stay, with the idea of running it.
The pay isnt great, even compared to bell boy, but I would get accomodation and I need to find something before Cathy gets here. The job is fairly cruisy and the place is only 100m from the beach.
So apart from hearing how my old company is to become a victim of the state of the global economy, and finding out how little IT work there is in Sydney especially before xmas, Im just enjoying the sunshine, and watching myself as I descend from lucid educated IT professional to obsequious sycophantic retard in a badly fitting unform.
Anyway, its dull; I dont give two hoots for the hotel and certainly cant see a 4 year stint as bell boy possible,
unlike some of the blokes who have been working there from 2 to 10 years.
Being a 5 star hotel, there are a lot of wealthy guests and V.R.P. very rich people. None of these people bother
with tips and so its left to the ordinary folk who are treating themselves a bit, to give the tips to the staff. I'm sure that if Karma had something to do with it then I would be getting bigger tips. I consider that I have always
tipped well, yet Im not getting much in return. Saying that, the Australians arent big on tipping anyway.
The worst part is the starting times. I think I need to be jet-lagged to cope, as my start time is usually 7am.
I cant understand it! 7am is an inhuman time to work at. Its money though, so I might as well make the most of it.
In the mean time, I am getting to meet the woman who runs the hostel where I stay, with the idea of running it.
The pay isnt great, even compared to bell boy, but I would get accomodation and I need to find something before Cathy gets here. The job is fairly cruisy and the place is only 100m from the beach.
So apart from hearing how my old company is to become a victim of the state of the global economy, and finding out how little IT work there is in Sydney especially before xmas, Im just enjoying the sunshine, and watching myself as I descend from lucid educated IT professional to obsequious sycophantic retard in a badly fitting unform.
