but can be found here,
I used to use tumblr a fair bit, it's really simple to use both to make the blog, and for those reading it..... so for anyone following me, you can now follow me here
http://russream.tumblr.com/
Tuesday 1 March 2011
Monday 28 February 2011
Being more prepared.
Trying to be more prepared this time, I'm already looking for work in Wellington (which i'm thinking is my next destination). Applying for a bar manager position..... (in a strip club!) a mere 15 minutes after I emailed them they asked me in for an interview on thursday, to which I am unable to attend, due to being on the wrong island, and due to current work commitments, but having explained that to the company, I've asked (albeit) rather unorthadox, to conduct the interview over the phone, or over skype...... watch this space !
Sunday 27 February 2011
Invergiggle, Daddy & Bollocks rugby!
Spending the weekend with Dallas and his family in "Invercargill" (because Carl had his daughter up for the weekend, and rather than being in the way, I was offered the chance to see a bit more of New Zealand, and stay with Dallas) was really quite something. Driving the 2 hour journey in the van jamming to "The Clash" in the brilliant sunshine would have been great had it not been for the fact that the cd player and cd's were all so tempramental, the cd's spent more time cutting out than actually playing, but oh well..... We'd had a half-day at work, due to having completed all the work up to date, so an early afternoon wasn't to complain about.
Dallas's wife also a pommie, from Kent would be at home and i'd get to meet her and I was told she'd love me because I'm a fellow Brit, despite the fact she left England at the age of 10. We spent the evening chilling out and having also met Dallas's daughter and her boyfriend we all ordered in Pizza and chatted over a few beers (and a few more) Sandra (Dallas's wife) and I spent the entire evening chatting untill the early hours of the morning, and listening to various punk-rock LP's that we were into. She being a teacher by profession works monday-friday and has friday nights as her one night off to relax before filling in lesson plans, time sheets and pupil progress reports, and she was greatful for the company to talk about the queen, the pound sterling and of course yorkshire tea.
Feeling pretty fresh in the morning, which is more than can be said for Sandra, who was evidentally still hammered. I help Dallas's neighbour to concrete his driveway, for the promise of a crate of beers at the end of it (he's a brewery representative, and it would be rude not to....) So Dallas and I head over to the building yard, pick up the cement mixer and borrow a trailer for the morning. Having spent a few hours, and washing the work down with a few light beer-like refreshments, the driveway is finally fully cemented, and a job well done in my eyes. So it's time to clean the cement mixer down, and drop the trailer back off.
It's now time to meet the rest of the family, (yeah they're a close bunch and try and see each other at weekends). This time I get to meet, Stacey (Sandra and Dallas's other daughter) and her two children Zavier and Cordanne, it's only when i've been told independantly from Stacey, Dallas and Sandra that I look like Zavier's father.... that I'm hoping he won't start calling me "daddy". Being 5 years old and full of that adoreable child-like naiivity, and constant need for attention, he provides us with an entertaining evening while we adults spend the evening talking about politics, and the Christchurch quake at the Barbeque, I made the best salad ever.... which i'm sure they will all agree, and that my blend of lettuce leaves and tomatoes were done to perfection. Another evening spent socialising and discussing my intentions in New Zealand, and finding out all the gossip there is to know, and suprisingly they thought I was late 20's.... and were shocked and refused to beleive that I was only 20.
We'd also found out that day that a local grocery store (Dairy Store) in their community which was run by a Chinese man, was closing down, (or more that he was running away), Dallas and Sandra both being interested in finding out more about the business and keeping it open in the local area, we all decide to go and have a look at it, they ask me to come along too for opinions, and advice, (as they know i've run the bar back in manchester and know about the behind-the-scenes of running a business). It's a little shop, with a lot of potential, but is certainly need of gutting and completely doing-up. We are offered endless amounts of free food and drink, because the Chinese shop owner Niel had endless surplus stock and needed to get rid off it. So heading back to the House with arms full of ice lollies, litres upon litres of Coca Cola, and a crate of energy drink, we literally have "food for thought". I advise both Sandra and Dallas, to seriously think about it, and not to rush into any decisions, because at the day it's their money that's on the line and after a final word of advise "sleep on it" we depart to bed, I'm staying in the end room...a.k.a the bar, with a full bar set up in their I feel right at home in my environment I enjoy, but also being surrounded by England memorabilia and Union jacks on the wall's and ceilings.
Sunday involved me meeting pretty much everyone else in their family, sons, boyfriends, grandmothers, brothers, nieces and nephews, I've now met more actual kiwi's in the space of 2 days, than I had the entire time i've been in New Zealand, The men amongst us all decide to have a throw about in the garden with the rugby ball, and Zavier gets involved, however for him it's about throwing the ball (albeit badly) to the middle of the circle, as he hadn't quite grasped the concept of throwing it to anyone else, the rest of us, decide rather than passing it to each other it's more a game of who can throw the ball into each other's bollocks the hardest. Poor little kid doesn't realise why we're all in histerics and spending more time doubled over in laughter and...pain, than throwing the ball.
A lovely weekend, being an honourable member of the family, or known as the English refugee, but yeah thoroughly enjoyable, and heading back early monday morning for work.
Dallas's wife also a pommie, from Kent would be at home and i'd get to meet her and I was told she'd love me because I'm a fellow Brit, despite the fact she left England at the age of 10. We spent the evening chilling out and having also met Dallas's daughter and her boyfriend we all ordered in Pizza and chatted over a few beers (and a few more) Sandra (Dallas's wife) and I spent the entire evening chatting untill the early hours of the morning, and listening to various punk-rock LP's that we were into. She being a teacher by profession works monday-friday and has friday nights as her one night off to relax before filling in lesson plans, time sheets and pupil progress reports, and she was greatful for the company to talk about the queen, the pound sterling and of course yorkshire tea.
Feeling pretty fresh in the morning, which is more than can be said for Sandra, who was evidentally still hammered. I help Dallas's neighbour to concrete his driveway, for the promise of a crate of beers at the end of it (he's a brewery representative, and it would be rude not to....) So Dallas and I head over to the building yard, pick up the cement mixer and borrow a trailer for the morning. Having spent a few hours, and washing the work down with a few light beer-like refreshments, the driveway is finally fully cemented, and a job well done in my eyes. So it's time to clean the cement mixer down, and drop the trailer back off.
It's now time to meet the rest of the family, (yeah they're a close bunch and try and see each other at weekends). This time I get to meet, Stacey (Sandra and Dallas's other daughter) and her two children Zavier and Cordanne, it's only when i've been told independantly from Stacey, Dallas and Sandra that I look like Zavier's father.... that I'm hoping he won't start calling me "daddy". Being 5 years old and full of that adoreable child-like naiivity, and constant need for attention, he provides us with an entertaining evening while we adults spend the evening talking about politics, and the Christchurch quake at the Barbeque, I made the best salad ever.... which i'm sure they will all agree, and that my blend of lettuce leaves and tomatoes were done to perfection. Another evening spent socialising and discussing my intentions in New Zealand, and finding out all the gossip there is to know, and suprisingly they thought I was late 20's.... and were shocked and refused to beleive that I was only 20.
We'd also found out that day that a local grocery store (Dairy Store) in their community which was run by a Chinese man, was closing down, (or more that he was running away), Dallas and Sandra both being interested in finding out more about the business and keeping it open in the local area, we all decide to go and have a look at it, they ask me to come along too for opinions, and advice, (as they know i've run the bar back in manchester and know about the behind-the-scenes of running a business). It's a little shop, with a lot of potential, but is certainly need of gutting and completely doing-up. We are offered endless amounts of free food and drink, because the Chinese shop owner Niel had endless surplus stock and needed to get rid off it. So heading back to the House with arms full of ice lollies, litres upon litres of Coca Cola, and a crate of energy drink, we literally have "food for thought". I advise both Sandra and Dallas, to seriously think about it, and not to rush into any decisions, because at the day it's their money that's on the line and after a final word of advise "sleep on it" we depart to bed, I'm staying in the end room...a.k.a the bar, with a full bar set up in their I feel right at home in my environment I enjoy, but also being surrounded by England memorabilia and Union jacks on the wall's and ceilings.
Sunday involved me meeting pretty much everyone else in their family, sons, boyfriends, grandmothers, brothers, nieces and nephews, I've now met more actual kiwi's in the space of 2 days, than I had the entire time i've been in New Zealand, The men amongst us all decide to have a throw about in the garden with the rugby ball, and Zavier gets involved, however for him it's about throwing the ball (albeit badly) to the middle of the circle, as he hadn't quite grasped the concept of throwing it to anyone else, the rest of us, decide rather than passing it to each other it's more a game of who can throw the ball into each other's bollocks the hardest. Poor little kid doesn't realise why we're all in histerics and spending more time doubled over in laughter and...pain, than throwing the ball.
A lovely weekend, being an honourable member of the family, or known as the English refugee, but yeah thoroughly enjoyable, and heading back early monday morning for work.
Wednesday 23 February 2011
Quakes, Driving, Flame Throwers.
F.Y.I Not overly sure why but feeling rather uninspired today with regards to updating the blog, so apologies in advance if it's dull, mundane, and pretty damn crap! You've been fore-warned!!!
Working the timber yard is certainly hard graft, but perhaps it's what I needed, as I feel about a thousand times better than before, presumably because i'm not drinking my body weight in alcohol.....Getting up at 7:00am hasn't been as bad as I first imagined it would be, I didn't know that time of the morning existed for so many years, having slept in more or less every morning since I moved to Manchester, (almost 3 years ago). But fear not it can be done, and feeling fresh (after a cup of coffee of course!.... I'm not a superhuman).
Working at the yard along with Tom, and Andrew both builders/carpenters/outdoorsie labourers by trade, soon showed me the ropes and got me involved, I mainly spend time "buffing" the wood thats been cut/milled/measured to size to bring back the color to the otherwise dull piece of timber, using basically and elaborate circular piece of sandpaper on a motor.....but instead of sandpaper it's a circualr metal brush that can certainly shred anything it comes into contact with. My first day on the buffer was excrutiating, forearm muscles were in agony, and I had to keep stopping to allow the blood to return to my rapidly flopping arms, and try and make it look as though I was adjusting my safety specs, or gloves.... However now a week on, I can safely say that with forearms the size of the average human thigh, I can quite happily buff away all day.
When i'm not buffing the wood, i'll be sanding away sharp edges on timber, or cutting any odd bits of wood (scrap) into firewood. This is actually by far the easiest job and in the sun can lead to a fantastic tan..Whilst the sun was out today (and with not much work on) I was using the power saw to cut the mound of firewood that had been building for the last few months, Sleeves rolled all the way up, to blend my tan line and farmers arm, to both Tom and Andrew's amusement, "don't you want to put some sun bloc on?" "Nah.... us pommies are bred to burn...."
Driving the forklift truck is actually really fun, and not nearly as hard as it looks, that said I did today try for about 5 minutes to move the damn vehicle, not realising it was in "parked" mode, and therefore nothing I was shouting at it was gonna make it move, the driving is easy, using the forks will need a bit more practice.
As you will all now presumably be aware there's been a devastating Earthquake in Christchurch, and measured 6.3 on the old "can't remember spelling (Richter) scale" which was less magnitude than the previous Quake they suffered in september of last year, however it was only 5km below the surface of the ground, whereas in September it was 32km down, so as you can imagine, a lot more structural damage, and loss of lives, It's true as they've been saying that Christchurch is no longer Christchurch, as everything that made it fpr what it was is now destroyed, or about to crumble. The loss of life and of course the hundreds still missing is a massive blow to New Zealand, and is now considered New Zealand's worst natural disaster. Seeing the realism of it all on the news certainly got my emotions running, and I can only thank my lucky stars that I was picked up by Carl and Dallas and offered work, because had I carried on travelling i'm sure I would have ended up in Christchurch about this time, and things might not have been the same, but sadness and emotions behind still loving it here. We felt the quake, at the yard and was a surreal experience, to not have control of your balance, even though you're stood upright as you normally would.
Can't really think of much else to report, but i'll edit/update if I do.
Oh, I built a big tool shelf today..... there we go, haha something for you to be amazed at, I expect messages of appraisal and congratualtions from you all at any time.
Working the timber yard is certainly hard graft, but perhaps it's what I needed, as I feel about a thousand times better than before, presumably because i'm not drinking my body weight in alcohol.....Getting up at 7:00am hasn't been as bad as I first imagined it would be, I didn't know that time of the morning existed for so many years, having slept in more or less every morning since I moved to Manchester, (almost 3 years ago). But fear not it can be done, and feeling fresh (after a cup of coffee of course!.... I'm not a superhuman).
Working at the yard along with Tom, and Andrew both builders/carpenters/outdoorsie labourers by trade, soon showed me the ropes and got me involved, I mainly spend time "buffing" the wood thats been cut/milled/measured to size to bring back the color to the otherwise dull piece of timber, using basically and elaborate circular piece of sandpaper on a motor.....but instead of sandpaper it's a circualr metal brush that can certainly shred anything it comes into contact with. My first day on the buffer was excrutiating, forearm muscles were in agony, and I had to keep stopping to allow the blood to return to my rapidly flopping arms, and try and make it look as though I was adjusting my safety specs, or gloves.... However now a week on, I can safely say that with forearms the size of the average human thigh, I can quite happily buff away all day.
When i'm not buffing the wood, i'll be sanding away sharp edges on timber, or cutting any odd bits of wood (scrap) into firewood. This is actually by far the easiest job and in the sun can lead to a fantastic tan..Whilst the sun was out today (and with not much work on) I was using the power saw to cut the mound of firewood that had been building for the last few months, Sleeves rolled all the way up, to blend my tan line and farmers arm, to both Tom and Andrew's amusement, "don't you want to put some sun bloc on?" "Nah.... us pommies are bred to burn...."
Driving the forklift truck is actually really fun, and not nearly as hard as it looks, that said I did today try for about 5 minutes to move the damn vehicle, not realising it was in "parked" mode, and therefore nothing I was shouting at it was gonna make it move, the driving is easy, using the forks will need a bit more practice.
As you will all now presumably be aware there's been a devastating Earthquake in Christchurch, and measured 6.3 on the old "can't remember spelling (Richter) scale" which was less magnitude than the previous Quake they suffered in september of last year, however it was only 5km below the surface of the ground, whereas in September it was 32km down, so as you can imagine, a lot more structural damage, and loss of lives, It's true as they've been saying that Christchurch is no longer Christchurch, as everything that made it fpr what it was is now destroyed, or about to crumble. The loss of life and of course the hundreds still missing is a massive blow to New Zealand, and is now considered New Zealand's worst natural disaster. Seeing the realism of it all on the news certainly got my emotions running, and I can only thank my lucky stars that I was picked up by Carl and Dallas and offered work, because had I carried on travelling i'm sure I would have ended up in Christchurch about this time, and things might not have been the same, but sadness and emotions behind still loving it here. We felt the quake, at the yard and was a surreal experience, to not have control of your balance, even though you're stood upright as you normally would.
Can't really think of much else to report, but i'll edit/update if I do.
Oh, I built a big tool shelf today..... there we go, haha something for you to be amazed at, I expect messages of appraisal and congratualtions from you all at any time.
Thursday 17 February 2011
To start i'll have the "hitch-hike", then i'd like the "job" to follow, oh and can I get a side of "Accommodation" .... Cheers Bro!
So yeah, how fate changes, and at the best of times, having pretty much run my money dry in Queenstown it was a no-brainer but to up & leave.... although when you're "SKINT AS BRO" it's not gonna be easy to get to the "next destination" i'd planned on heading north, Nelson/Blenheim via Christchurch (Heavier traffic flow). and indeed they all say NZ is the safest place to hitch.
Having started decidedly late to Hitch, packing my bag at 12pm almost 4 hours after the usual "8am headoff" of usual travellers, backpackers and general vagabonds, I'd finally got my stuff together, and met up with Irish for a quick goodbye and (Toast & jam... no butter) and a pack of instant noodles for the journey...ahhh good friends are hard to come-by. Luckily one of her friends was heading to Queenstwon airport that day, so having grabbed a lift in the mini van I jumped out in Frankton, where all the main roads out of Queenstown start from.
Being slightly geographically retarded, (despite having the map) I was hitching to Christchurch (Sign in hand) on the "south road" only headin to "Invercargill" when two other hitchers kindly pointed it out that I was indeed on the wrong road, and that was probably why I was having no luck.... I mean who could resist picking up me... charming smile.... witty banter and well i'll leave the rest up to you.
Finally slogging up the highway onto the correct road, I'm stood sign in hand for about 1 hour and half... in the blazing sun, untill finally a farmer on his way back up the road offers me a lift, "only 10km down the road son, is that alright?" ..."hey if it's creating a bigger distance between here and Queenstown, and getting me closer to the North, who can complain!". So I jump in, finding despite being an old-timer he'd done a fair amount of travelling in his younger years, and thought well upon my intentions, and as I say he dropped me off 10km down the road. saying cheerio, and with the option that if I was still stood there on his way back into town I could spend the night, I get the sign back out, luckily this time being stood on a well-used Hitch hiking spot. I'd only been waiting a mere 5 minutes before i'm picked up by "Dallas, and Carl" who're on their way via "Cromwell-where you wanna be heading if you're going up to Christchurch" back home to "Clyde" again getting chatting about my intentions in New Zealand, how long i'd been here, what i'd been up to etc and of course with the usual, "bloody pommy" here and there (all in good humour). As it was getting rather late by this time, 6pm they offer for me to spend the night at theirs, (by the state of the car.... the work wagon) I assume that a night's stay in a rough & tumble house couldn't be frowned upon, certainly beats sleeping on the roadside which I guess I would've ended up doing. We arrive at the shack..... well it's more like a bloody millionaire's pad, with several bedrooms, all mod cons, open plan kitchen/diner sun deck, balcony, not to mention the gym, and table tennis room... I'd certainly hit lucky for the night.
We head on over to the old post office, which has been done-up into a fantastic pub/restaurant with a great beer garden, we soon let the alcohol flow, and start contemplating the imminant outbreak of WWIII, what with all the uprisings in Egypt, and Bahrain...(still clued up on world affairs don't worry, i'm not that ignorant). only when it comes to my plans up north and their upturned noses at me wanting to go Fruit picking (which i've still no qualms about), they advise me it's not well paid, and that I'd be better working for them for a while....So I take them up on that offer, not wanting to waste good chances, who knows when the next opportunity such as that will arise, so what with great accommodation, the guarantee of some work for a month or so it couldn't be better....well the fact that i'm now learning to drive for free also...maybe it just did!
A day-trip to Dunedin to explore a bit more of New Zealand was fantastic, we acomplished some work commitments, a trip to the dentist, and a beer on the beach, White sand, blue sea's and waves a surfer would get overly excited about. (see picture).
So what's the job? I hear you wondering as you're reading this, well: I'm currently working for "ironwood timbers" (www.ironwood.co.nz) in a nutshell, we recycle old Australian hardwood, taken from bridges that we demolish, old telegraph poles and wherever there may be some old timber, we buy this wood, do it up and then sell it on to individuals, businesses and whatnot for use in housing etc, it's a pretty high-end luxury item and only 2 people do this kind of work in the whole of New Zealand, (our company being one of them) and therefore reflects in the price, you pay for what you get, and you certainly get an individual piece of timber, with character, history and a design like no other (As each piece is unique). we also build bridges too.
So Mum and Opa, I know after all the time we've spent together over the years of me grumbling & occasionally groaning over DIY, you'll both be pleased to know i'v e donned the gloves, the hard boots, and ear-muffs and getting my hands dirty. It's really physical, but working outdoors surrounded by mountains and brilliant sunshine, who can complain. oh an extra brownie points coming my way from mum.... Yup I rewired and fixed up an old wood buffer, so when you taught me how to rewire a plug etc.... it did sink in, even if it appeared at the time to have fallen on deaf ears.
So having updated about a weeks worth for you after having finished work for the weekend, i'll keep you updated of the goings on etc,
all the best from "Downunder" x
Having started decidedly late to Hitch, packing my bag at 12pm almost 4 hours after the usual "8am headoff" of usual travellers, backpackers and general vagabonds, I'd finally got my stuff together, and met up with Irish for a quick goodbye and (Toast & jam... no butter) and a pack of instant noodles for the journey...ahhh good friends are hard to come-by. Luckily one of her friends was heading to Queenstwon airport that day, so having grabbed a lift in the mini van I jumped out in Frankton, where all the main roads out of Queenstown start from.
Being slightly geographically retarded, (despite having the map) I was hitching to Christchurch (Sign in hand) on the "south road" only headin to "Invercargill" when two other hitchers kindly pointed it out that I was indeed on the wrong road, and that was probably why I was having no luck.... I mean who could resist picking up me... charming smile.... witty banter and well i'll leave the rest up to you.
Finally slogging up the highway onto the correct road, I'm stood sign in hand for about 1 hour and half... in the blazing sun, untill finally a farmer on his way back up the road offers me a lift, "only 10km down the road son, is that alright?" ..."hey if it's creating a bigger distance between here and Queenstown, and getting me closer to the North, who can complain!". So I jump in, finding despite being an old-timer he'd done a fair amount of travelling in his younger years, and thought well upon my intentions, and as I say he dropped me off 10km down the road. saying cheerio, and with the option that if I was still stood there on his way back into town I could spend the night, I get the sign back out, luckily this time being stood on a well-used Hitch hiking spot. I'd only been waiting a mere 5 minutes before i'm picked up by "Dallas, and Carl" who're on their way via "Cromwell-where you wanna be heading if you're going up to Christchurch" back home to "Clyde" again getting chatting about my intentions in New Zealand, how long i'd been here, what i'd been up to etc and of course with the usual, "bloody pommy" here and there (all in good humour). As it was getting rather late by this time, 6pm they offer for me to spend the night at theirs, (by the state of the car.... the work wagon) I assume that a night's stay in a rough & tumble house couldn't be frowned upon, certainly beats sleeping on the roadside which I guess I would've ended up doing. We arrive at the shack..... well it's more like a bloody millionaire's pad, with several bedrooms, all mod cons, open plan kitchen/diner sun deck, balcony, not to mention the gym, and table tennis room... I'd certainly hit lucky for the night.
We head on over to the old post office, which has been done-up into a fantastic pub/restaurant with a great beer garden, we soon let the alcohol flow, and start contemplating the imminant outbreak of WWIII, what with all the uprisings in Egypt, and Bahrain...(still clued up on world affairs don't worry, i'm not that ignorant). only when it comes to my plans up north and their upturned noses at me wanting to go Fruit picking (which i've still no qualms about), they advise me it's not well paid, and that I'd be better working for them for a while....So I take them up on that offer, not wanting to waste good chances, who knows when the next opportunity such as that will arise, so what with great accommodation, the guarantee of some work for a month or so it couldn't be better....well the fact that i'm now learning to drive for free also...maybe it just did!
A day-trip to Dunedin to explore a bit more of New Zealand was fantastic, we acomplished some work commitments, a trip to the dentist, and a beer on the beach, White sand, blue sea's and waves a surfer would get overly excited about. (see picture).
So what's the job? I hear you wondering as you're reading this, well: I'm currently working for "ironwood timbers" (www.ironwood.co.nz) in a nutshell, we recycle old Australian hardwood, taken from bridges that we demolish, old telegraph poles and wherever there may be some old timber, we buy this wood, do it up and then sell it on to individuals, businesses and whatnot for use in housing etc, it's a pretty high-end luxury item and only 2 people do this kind of work in the whole of New Zealand, (our company being one of them) and therefore reflects in the price, you pay for what you get, and you certainly get an individual piece of timber, with character, history and a design like no other (As each piece is unique). we also build bridges too.
So Mum and Opa, I know after all the time we've spent together over the years of me grumbling & occasionally groaning over DIY, you'll both be pleased to know i'v e donned the gloves, the hard boots, and ear-muffs and getting my hands dirty. It's really physical, but working outdoors surrounded by mountains and brilliant sunshine, who can complain. oh an extra brownie points coming my way from mum.... Yup I rewired and fixed up an old wood buffer, so when you taught me how to rewire a plug etc.... it did sink in, even if it appeared at the time to have fallen on deaf ears.
So having updated about a weeks worth for you after having finished work for the weekend, i'll keep you updated of the goings on etc,
all the best from "Downunder" x
Friday 4 February 2011
Wednesday 2 February 2011
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)