Thursday, April 07, 2005
it's Gray with the corner...
Thorn flicks it on..
And Pardew, Alan Pardew and Palace are in front again.
Yep, it seems like only yesterday but it's 15 years tomorrow since the greatest football match the world has ever seen. The greatest day ever no less. Crystal Palace 4 Liverpool 3. The same Liverpool that 8 months earlier had beaten us 9-0.
Mark Bright's vest, John Pemberton's crazy run up the wing, only Malcolm Allison reckoning we had a chance, Ian Wright rushing onto the pitch with his leg in plaster, Andy Gray pushing the policeman out the way as he celebrated. I could go on....
Nigel Martyn, John Pemberton, Richard Shaw, Andy Thorn, Gary O'Reilly, Geoff Thomas, Andy Gray, Phil Barber, Alan Pardew, Mark Bright, John Salako and of course Stevie Coppell... We salute you..
Elsewhere we made it to Indonesia with Bali the first port of call. Only having 36 hours here before flying east to Flores, we stayed in the tourist capital, Kuta. Absolutely teeming with brainless Australian self styled surf 'dudes. They've all got long curly blond hair like that guy from Neighbours, the really thick one whose name I forget. It could have been Home and Away. Same difference.
Anyway, we've spent a day dodging the grey skies and torrential rain. Plus catching up with the sleep denied us last night when, having gone to bed relatively late for us (11pm) we were awoken hours later by various drunken revellers returning home. One particularly gormless couple - I think they were Scandinavian - had to be paid a visit at 4am by yours truly. When told, politely I might add, that there were making too much noise, the stupid girl offered to... turn their bedroom lights off, 'Would that help?'. Silence reigned after I pointed out that turning the stereo down or preferably off might represent a more effective action.
And to cap it all, today we shell out a small fortune on a guidebook to Indonesia, which reveals our intended weekend destination doesn't even have telephones. So all plans to watch the Palace game on Sunday night have been rapidly downgraded. It seems merely finding out the score is going to be difficult enough.
And Pardew, Alan Pardew and Palace are in front again.
Yep, it seems like only yesterday but it's 15 years tomorrow since the greatest football match the world has ever seen. The greatest day ever no less. Crystal Palace 4 Liverpool 3. The same Liverpool that 8 months earlier had beaten us 9-0.
Mark Bright's vest, John Pemberton's crazy run up the wing, only Malcolm Allison reckoning we had a chance, Ian Wright rushing onto the pitch with his leg in plaster, Andy Gray pushing the policeman out the way as he celebrated. I could go on....
Nigel Martyn, John Pemberton, Richard Shaw, Andy Thorn, Gary O'Reilly, Geoff Thomas, Andy Gray, Phil Barber, Alan Pardew, Mark Bright, John Salako and of course Stevie Coppell... We salute you..
Elsewhere we made it to Indonesia with Bali the first port of call. Only having 36 hours here before flying east to Flores, we stayed in the tourist capital, Kuta. Absolutely teeming with brainless Australian self styled surf 'dudes. They've all got long curly blond hair like that guy from Neighbours, the really thick one whose name I forget. It could have been Home and Away. Same difference.
Anyway, we've spent a day dodging the grey skies and torrential rain. Plus catching up with the sleep denied us last night when, having gone to bed relatively late for us (11pm) we were awoken hours later by various drunken revellers returning home. One particularly gormless couple - I think they were Scandinavian - had to be paid a visit at 4am by yours truly. When told, politely I might add, that there were making too much noise, the stupid girl offered to... turn their bedroom lights off, 'Would that help?'. Silence reigned after I pointed out that turning the stereo down or preferably off might represent a more effective action.
And to cap it all, today we shell out a small fortune on a guidebook to Indonesia, which reveals our intended weekend destination doesn't even have telephones. So all plans to watch the Palace game on Sunday night have been rapidly downgraded. It seems merely finding out the score is going to be difficult enough.
Tuesday, April 05, 2005
leaving las vegas
The week in MalaysiaTrulyAsia is done and dusted. From here it's 4 weeks in Indonesia. First Bali for 2 days and then on to Flores in the far east, where you can almost touch Australia you're so near.
And of course mission on arrival will be the inevitably fruitless search for somewhere showing Everton v Palace on Sunday night... Happy days.
And of course mission on arrival will be the inevitably fruitless search for somewhere showing Everton v Palace on Sunday night... Happy days.
the rice wine experience
No, not the name of a seventies hippie guitar rock band - but the 'other' main tourist activity in Borneo.
The 'experience' in question is spending a night in a traditional long-house in the rainforest, inhabited by none other than the reformed head-hunters of Borneo. The deal is you visit the families, have dinner, watch a cultural dance (you think we might have learned after the crap we have been subjected to in the guise of cultural dances - but no!), get tipsy on rice wine, sleep-over, practice shooting blow darts and watch a cock fight, then trundle on off back to civilisation.
So, we were sitting in our travel agency van yesterday morning preparing to be underwhelmed. When we were told our group contained only one other member - and then her overwhelming BO preceeded her by several seconds - my heart started to sink... and she was German ffs
But this is not a tale of group package tours gone wrong - in fact just the opposite.
Our tour started with a visit to watch orangutans have breakfast and then a stop at the rainforest food market, where we sampled some funky fruit never to be found in Asda. Followed by a boat ride through the jungle... real jungle... very exciting. The long-house was somewhat traditional - they still had some skulls hanging up which we were assured we over 100 years old - then again they also had TVs and posters of Westlife... but at least it was an honest picture of the contrasts of traditional and modern life.
The cultural dance was performed by the 86 year old village chief complete with loin cloth, tattoos and extended ear piercings. They even convinced the tourists to do a little dancing (after a few glasses of rice wine mind you) - and I captured blackmail gold - a video of Pete dancing wearing feathered cap. Followed by a little shopping for local handicrafts (hurray another wicker basket!) and doling out sweeties to the long-house kids, then it was time for bed. The next day was equally pleasing: I was a natural at blow darting and the cock fighting was only mildly disturbing.
And, as if you don't get the picture yet just how rewarding an experience the long-house tour was, this will hammer my point home - Pete asked the tour guide a question. A trip first. Normally Pete doesn't give a monkey's (his words) what the guide is saying while I listen, rapt. But this time even he was interested enough to ask 'What is their religion?' - of course Mr. ADD had to ask me first to make sure the guide hadn't told us while he wasn't paying attention.
The sole dark cloud on the whole event was knowing CP had lost to Middlesborough the day before.
Back to Kuching this evening and only 1 more day in MalaysiaTrulyAsia before it's off to Indonesia.
The 'experience' in question is spending a night in a traditional long-house in the rainforest, inhabited by none other than the reformed head-hunters of Borneo. The deal is you visit the families, have dinner, watch a cultural dance (you think we might have learned after the crap we have been subjected to in the guise of cultural dances - but no!), get tipsy on rice wine, sleep-over, practice shooting blow darts and watch a cock fight, then trundle on off back to civilisation.
So, we were sitting in our travel agency van yesterday morning preparing to be underwhelmed. When we were told our group contained only one other member - and then her overwhelming BO preceeded her by several seconds - my heart started to sink... and she was German ffs
But this is not a tale of group package tours gone wrong - in fact just the opposite.
Our tour started with a visit to watch orangutans have breakfast and then a stop at the rainforest food market, where we sampled some funky fruit never to be found in Asda. Followed by a boat ride through the jungle... real jungle... very exciting. The long-house was somewhat traditional - they still had some skulls hanging up which we were assured we over 100 years old - then again they also had TVs and posters of Westlife... but at least it was an honest picture of the contrasts of traditional and modern life.
The cultural dance was performed by the 86 year old village chief complete with loin cloth, tattoos and extended ear piercings. They even convinced the tourists to do a little dancing (after a few glasses of rice wine mind you) - and I captured blackmail gold - a video of Pete dancing wearing feathered cap. Followed by a little shopping for local handicrafts (hurray another wicker basket!) and doling out sweeties to the long-house kids, then it was time for bed. The next day was equally pleasing: I was a natural at blow darting and the cock fighting was only mildly disturbing.
And, as if you don't get the picture yet just how rewarding an experience the long-house tour was, this will hammer my point home - Pete asked the tour guide a question. A trip first. Normally Pete doesn't give a monkey's (his words) what the guide is saying while I listen, rapt. But this time even he was interested enough to ask 'What is their religion?' - of course Mr. ADD had to ask me first to make sure the guide hadn't told us while he wasn't paying attention.
The sole dark cloud on the whole event was knowing CP had lost to Middlesborough the day before.
Back to Kuching this evening and only 1 more day in MalaysiaTrulyAsia before it's off to Indonesia.
