Friday, 15 April 2016

Australia (Part Three)


Drinking (When in Rome…)

Despite the famous Australian drinking culture (or, more accurately, because of the famous Australian drinking culture), state governments have introduced some draconian legislation, collectively known as the Lock-out Laws.  In New South Wales (the state with Sydney in it), these mean that almost no pubs or bars open after midnight, and off-licenses (“bottle shops”) close at ten.
We are told about these laws, while in a bar, at one in the morning.  So, I’m confused, but still spit out my beer in outraged shock.
WHAT POSSIBLE REASON COULD THEY HAVE FOR THIS MEDIEVAL NONSENSE?!
When someone later mentions it, I realise I’d barely noticed the early closing, even though we’d been in town nearly a week.  I must be getting old…

The laws were introduced after a spate of high-profile violent incidents, including one or two deaths.  The state government/s decided that the best way to avoid violence was to make everyone stop drinking and leave the pub at the same time, with virtually nowhere to go, and no alcohol available anywhere.  That’s bound to make people less violent.
The consensus is that it’s killing the Sydney live music scene and nightlife generally.
Apparently, the state government of Victoria (the state Melbourne is in) trialled a similar rule. 
It lasted six days.
The consensus is that Melbourne is way cooler than Sydney…(but more on that later).

Despite these infantilising regulations and their pernicious effect on the live music scene in Sydney, I play my first ever Australian gig.  So, I am now an experienced international touring musician, with three continents’ worth of shows.  And I can safely say that 100% of Australian audiences like my shit.  100% of people who commented made positive comments.  I am an old school friend of 10% of that audience, and am going out with 5% of the audience.  But the first number is the important one, isn’t it?  (Quality>Quantity)  It was a good gig, I like the ones where there aren’t too many people there.  I wore a Smiths t-shirt, and E-Girl took a photo to prove it really happened.

Massive Thanks to KC for putting the show on.  It was in a craft beer bar.
Craft beer is big in Australia, and there is some ruddy good beer here.  I make it a mission to try as many as I can.  You see, I am not simply on some kind of junket or jolly – perish the thought, Dear Reader; I am your intrepid reporter, bringing you vital dispatch from the opposite side of the globe.

When in Australia, drink heavily and indulge in casual, culturally-accepted racism and chauvinism.  I only enjoy one of these things, so, you know….#wheninrome

So, we’re on the other side of the world hanging out with a kid from Lockleaze I used to play football with.  (He wants to say Horfield, bless him, but I remember it well.  It was definitely Lockleaze.) He and McG , another old school friend, (who is from Yate) tell us all about Australia; however, they tell us all about it over some very good Australian craft beer, so I can’t remember most of it.  The upshot is, Sydney is nicer than Lockleaze or Yate (apologies, residents of Lockleaze and Yate.  (Congratulations, residents of Oz.))
(If I was a younger, less mature man, I would say something here, like “I’m not sorry about the slight, I’m just sorry you live in Lockleaze or Yate.”
But I am too old and mature for that kind of jibe.  Turns out some of my best friends at school were from Lockleaze or Yate.)

KC tells me that he is thinking of becoming a stand-up comedian.  It’s working, as I prove by finding the idea very funny.  I like Stewart Lee, he likes Jimmy Carr.  We have always been different people.  (Well, we probably wouldn’t be friends if we were the same person.)  We break from our catch-up with its soundtrack of KC’s witch-like cackle (presumably a result of his own wit), so I can note for this report the fact that we agree that the combination of peanut butter and chocolate is humankind’s greatest achievement. 
“That and war” adds KC, cheerfully.

Looking for a bar exempt from, or flouting, the reprehensible lock-out law, we head down Crown St.  Spotting a place open, KC nods toward it in suggestion.  The place is rejected out of hand; the red neon and desperate atmosphere make it seem seedy, like a brothel.  As opposed to seedy like a cool late bar.  We can see/sense just enough to see why we won’t be going in.

Drinking in bars in Australia is not all that different from doing it in Britain.  However, most pubs have apparently gone a bit shit, and often have a separate room full of fruit machines, like those gambling arcades back home.  The kind that are strictly for gambling addicts.  Bars are good though, especially in Melbourne.  Rooftop bars seem to be all the rage here, and as it’s the height of summer, we get round a few, and get some great views. 
When in Rome…persecute Christians.

Beer in Australian bars usually comes in two (or three) sizes. The names and the actual amounts vary from place to place, but the smallest is about two gulps and not worth talking about.  The next up is Schooner, and then there’s the good, old-fashioned pint.  A schooner is about 2/3 of a pint.  At first it’s a treat to get a pint in the odd place, but after a week or so I start to see the value of a schooner: it’s hot here, and if your beer is smaller, it doesn’t get warm and flat. (Insert 20th century “if you’re a man you just drink your beer quicker” joke here, and rest assured you are the funniest person in the room.)  Also, I want to try All The Beers, preferably without puking up my lungs on a foreign copper’s shoes.  (Insert 20th century “old man can’t hack it anymore” joke here and your place in the comedy hall of fame is guaranteed.)
When in Rome… go mad with decadence and hubristic power.

There seems to be a real trend in Sydney – and Melbourne – for playing a lot of really good 90s Hip Hop.  I strongly approve of this trend.  I don’t really know how big Hip Hop is here (it’s big everywhere, I suppose), but I’m sure I hear Tribe Called Quest, KRS ONE, Mos Def, De La Soul, Dead Prez, and other favourites in nearly every place we eat or drink of an evening.  Maybe I’m just lucky.  Well done, Australia.  Props.
Also, I can’t remember the last time I heard Waterfalls (by TLC) before this trip, but I swear I hear it more times in these three weeks than the previous ten years.  I quite like it.  (Ask me about my fondness for trans-Atlantic black female vocal groups of the 90s sometime, if you like. #destinysstillreignsupreme)

One thing I swore as a younger man was that I would never again queue to get into a bar or club.  But we’re on holidays, so fuck it.  Anyway, we’re waiting rather than queueing.  Which isn’t as bad.  I was a bit surprised when G took us into a sandwich shop just after we’d eaten a top-notch Vietnamese meal (possibly the best I’ve ever had.  But more on that later).  We hover awkwardly by a fridge door, which suddenly opens to reveal a bar behind it.  Secret bars are big in Melbourne, even though drinking is legal.  It’s fun. 
When in Rome…conquer most of Europe.

(Our) Melbourne nights out, especially, are mostly about eating.  (We like eating.)  There are a lot of good restaurants, and everyone has a recommendation.  None of them fail.  Brunch is a big deal, as is coffee, and we hit both pretty hard.  We also find time to drink our bodyweight in local booze.  (But more on that later.)  The Asian food is amazing, especially Thai and Vietnamese – but we also find time to eat at a Malaysian place, which is also very good.
Mind you, back in Sydney, we eat some pretty outrageous stuff, including fried Nutella.  You heard.  It’s only one component of dessert called Stoner’s Delight.  #nostalgia
I put on a stone or so, and really enjoy it. 

On nights out on our own, we find Australians in bars friendly.  It might be just because we’re on holidays and are temporarily disposed toward conversation with strangers.  It might be that England is full of po-faced, awkward types who shudder at the thought of speaking to anyone they haven’t known for years, and grudgingly tolerate those they have known for years.  I’m not judging: most of my friends are po-faced, awkward types.  Maybe I am one as well; it would explain a lot.  Still, holidays are for doing fun things you wouldn’t normally do, aren’t they?
When in Rome…use lead pipes and live to regret it.

On our last night in Glebe (a relatively trendy part of Sydney we’ve stayed in for a week), we sample the “local” (Lebanese) cuisine, which is superb, and there’s a bar next door with some dudes playing Delta Blues.  It’s all very cool, but without that too-cool-for-school-cold-shoulder you get some places (you know, London).  Everyone is friendly and it’s a good laugh.  People always ask where we’re from, how long we’re here, where we’re heading next and all that.

We also try some local cider, and, well, this is awkward: It’s really, really good.  Sorry, West Country crew.  Importing cider to the southwest of England from Switzerland or somewhere seems exactly the kind of perverse nonsense that makes global capitalism such an infuriating way to conduct ourselves.  It would be as redundant and brainless as to export imperial arrogance to the USA. 
(I’ll never understand importing cider and cheddar cheese to a place that (probably) invented them and (probably) makes the best around.  It’s maddening.  It would be like importing weird sexual fetishes into Japan.)
However, while we’re here, it makes perfect sense to try the cider here, which they make here (quite well, it turns out) instead of making them import Thatcher’s or whatever. 
The bar gives out free popcorn, which we politely decline so as not to spoil our dinner.  And, also, in my case at least, because popcorn is shit (THERE, I SAID IT).  It’s like polystyrene and it sticks to the teeth. 
The restaurant is called Thievery, and is as trendy as the name implies.  The food is amazing, mind.  The food here is amazing – every place we go to is good.  Like Britain, Australia is not known for the quality of its own traditional food, but it’s getting better, and also like Britain, you can get good food designed somewhere else, somewhere people are used to flavours.
When in Rome…take over the Christian faith you had previously persecuted.

Coming back to our billet, we happen upon a crowd of young Spanish “revellers” (that’s what they’re called on the news, isn’t it?  Almost always in a sentence with the words “hundreds of” and “turned ugly” – in fact, you almost never hear the word “revellers” except in a news report, either about an “illegal rave”, Glastonbury Festival or a riot after a US college sporting event) and fall into step with them.  I strike up a casual conversation, just like normal people from other countries where people talk to each other.  Countries like Spain and Australia.  (YES, I’ve been drinking)  Anyway, we follow the young Spanish party up to their flat and are given wine.  This.  This is a holiday.
I nip in on the laptop to play DJ (or “stereo fascist”, as some would have it) and put on Nothing But Flowers by Talking Heads.  Because it’s one of the best songs ever.  And I dance round the living room, much to the amusement of our hosts.  I don’t remember exactly what I did, so assume it was all Really Fucking Cool.  Good times are had by all, until eventually we head upstairs to bed.

Later in our trip, we head out with KC again, and it’s your classic holiday all-day drinking session, punctuated with good pizza and pool (including a game of Killer full of controversy; KC performs dreadfully, I not much better). 
And then “the best” gelato in Sydney.  A small but spirited argument ensues: last night’s “best in the city” gelato may have been even better than tonight’s “best in the city”; opinion, as it tends to be, is divided.  It’s all ice cream, isn’t it?
Well, no: it’s gelato. 
(Last night’s was in another famous place that A&A assure us is award-winning and the queue at 10 o’clock on a Monday night – on an otherwise quiet street – would also attest to the quality.  To be fair, tonight’s place is also busy.  For the record, they are both very, very good.)

We bid a fond farewell to KC, and he tells me he is a regular reader of this blog.  He hopes this blog will be kind to him. 
Fuck you, KC. 
Hahahahahahahahahahaaa….#jkz.

After KC heads home to his sweet life in the war Sydney ‘burbs, we head for “one more” (ah, the familiar smell of self-deception) over the road, as we’re not sure how to get back.  On our second “one more”, a fella sat near us blurts out suddenly:
“Where you from?”
It’s the type of slightly aggressive friendliness I’ve come to love from Glasgow.
The fella is from New Zealand (a “Kiwi”, if you will.  Will you?) who is drinking with his sister.  (To be more accurate, his sister has very recently stopped drinking, and excuses herself (with surprising politeness) to nip off and vomit.)
Our new friend – NP – is a drummer, a chef and some kind of cage fighter (I don’t really know what kinds there are, and don’t ask too much about it because I’m not really bothered about fighting men in cages).
They take us for “one more” (there it is again) down Crown Street.  He’s a chef, and will be starting work at the place soon.  After a quick stop at his flat for supplies, we rock up at the bar in question.  It’s got a red neon thing going on, which looks pretty cool, and….it’s the same bar we rejected before because it looked seedy(!)  That was two weeks ago, but it seems like more.  The place is pretty cool, once we get inside. 
When in Rome…etc blah blah.

NP is effusive, gregarious – ebullient, even.  He buys a round, and then a second, when I am halfway through my first drink.  I almost have to wrestle him to get the next.  A friend of his arrives, and we are introduced.  The friend is a “bloody good” butcher.  He tells me his friend has three kids.
“Four” the butcher corrects.
“Four kids?!  Get a TV, cunt!”
(Kiwis say “cunt” a lot.  Or, at least, these ones do.  It belies the image of the downbeat, reserved New Zealander in a fun way I reflect, knocking back yet another beer I have not been allowed to buy.)

NP and his sister are Maori, which we didn’t clock, to be honest.  (Probably more to do with their light complexions and our heavy drinking rather than us being totally cool and colour-blind and post racial.  (If you lie about these things, you will get found out.))
They are not fond of their (“shit, cunt”) Dad, and we get some glimpses of why, but we’re all having a good time so don’t go too far down that dark road.  We don’t have time for my life story, but NP’s is much more interesting anyway. 
We are in a booth and it’s all good fun, getting a bit messy.  In retrospect, I am glad I decline the offer to “check out the toilet”.  Still, this is the most fun we have had with strangers in a while.
Due to the magic of facebook, we are now acquainted and promise to check out each other’s musical projects. 

On our way home afterwards, we enjoy a really interesting piece of live satire: our cab driver is Somalian, and he doesn’t trust the Chinese.  I don’t remember how we got on to the subject of “the Chinese” (never takes long with a cabbie, does it?), but our driver is a well-travelled, educated young man; he speaks five languages; he has lived in several different countries, including China for five years; he is an engaging, urbane character, and has extensive experience of the culture and people he is traducing. 
So, he definitely does not fit into the usual two stereotypes for cabbies in the English-speaking world: embittered, racist, right-wing white working-class stereotypes and foreigners speaking heavily-accented English. 
(The staff Christmas parties for cab firms must be a great laugh.)

Anyway, the man is adamant that the Chinese are not to be trusted.  In business dealings – it’s nothing personal, he assures us, it’s just the way they do business; they’re not honest, apparently.  He prefers Americans: “they can help you they can hurt you, but they have more humanity.”  He describes Chinese culture as “cruel”.
Despite knowing little of Chinese culture, I cannot agree with his generalisations.  Despite the fact that he lived in China for five years, and I have never even been there, I respectfully decline to agree with him, not wishing to consign whole cultures/groups of humans to indifference with a blithe and simple assertion, however well researched and genuinely honest the assertion might be.  I probably don’t put it quite that cogently, because I have been drinking all day.
Either way, it’s been an educational day.  But more on that later. 
This man is the most interesting racist cabbie I have ever met, by the length of the Sydney – Melbourne coastal road.
So there you go.
When in Rome…um, distrust the rest of the world…?

Drinking wasn’t the only thing we did in Australia, but they were good on their own and also went perfectly with a lot of other things we did.  But more on that later.

The day after one of our (relatively) epic nights out in Sydney, we travel down the south coast for the real reason we are on this side of the world….but more on that later.

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