I was there...

I'm a big fan of the quote: "Life is not measured by the amount of breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away." Some moments are good, bad, happy and sad, cheesy and sleazy, but all have been memorable, influential and character building in one way or another during my time overseas. Apologies in advance for my passion towards sport and music.

I was there...


When the London Riots made a big city look so helpless.

in Piccadilly Circus, London, when it snowed.

When the sun set in Makarska, Croatia.

Working at Wimbledon when Novak Djokovic took out the Men's Singles Title (pictured).

Working at Wimbledon when Kim Kardashian's Ad Producer came and kept me company.

At Wimbledon when Kirsten Dunst and Bear Grylls brushed my shoulder.

When Barcelona and Manchester United fans marched down Wembley Walk for the Champions League final (Unfortunately, I didn't make it in).

When women became sociable.

Working for the enemy, the England & Wales Cricket Board when they were the No. 1 Test team in the World.

When an English policeman offered me an un-opened long neck beer outside Wembley Stadium.

When Islamic tradition awakened the civilians of Bodrum, Turkey, daily at 5am with prayer over the P.A systems from the Mosques.

When Turkish baths and Turkish shaves were cool in Turkey.

When mum wasn't home to cook. Not even tomorrow.

When Nani rounded Joe Hart at Wembley in 'Fergie time' to win the Community Shield 3-2.

When water turned to beer in Munich at Oktoberfest 2011.

At Ned Kelly Bar in Munich, when Collingwood were defeated by Geelong in the AFL GF 2011.

When Chairman of London 2012 Lord Sebastian Coe took the time to say hello.

When Manchester United captain Nemanja Vidic lifted title number 19 at Old Trafford v Blackpool in May 2011 - knocking Liverpool off their perch (pictured).

When Ashley Young scored late to defeat West Brom at the Hawthorns in the opening game of the season.

When Chelsea manager Roberto Di Matteo ate pizza with his family in Clapham, London.

When Darren Lockyer played his last ever Rugby League match v England at Elland Rd, November 2011.

When Manchester City defeated Manchester United 6-1 at Old Trafford.

At a pub in Newcastle when Shola Ameobi equalised late for Newcastle United in the Tyneside derby v Sunderland.

When Greece were on the verge of exiting the Eurozone.

When Manchester United defeated Liverpool 2-1 at Old Trafford - Suarez racism row with Evra.

When Eric Prydz hosted his first own EPIC show at Alexandra Palace, north London.

When Robin van Persie scored goal of the season for 2011/12 Barclays Premier League season with a volley to win 1-0 v Everton at the Emirates.

When VfB Stuttgart defeated Mainz 05 4-2 at Mercedes Benz Arena in April 2012 - where smoking and drinking alcohol was permitted in the stands.

21 years after Dubrovnik was besieged by Serb-Montenegrin forces, firing over 600 missiles on the old town (pictured).

When FIFA headquarters was situated in Zurich, Switzerland.


At the palace (Ludwigsburg Schloss) of King Friedrich, 206 years after Napoleon made him king of Wurttenberg.

On March 17, 2012 in Dublin for St Patrick's Day.

On April 30 when Amsterdam hosted Queensday 2012 and personal use of marijuana was still legal.

When a man went under a train on the London Underground tube. Several times.

When Australia lost 2-0 to Denmark in Copenhagen.

When Copenhagen hosted Distortion Festival - a celebration of Danish nightlife.

On Henman Hill at Wimbledon to see Roger Federer defeat Andy Murray in the 2012 Wimbledon Men's Final.

When Lionel Messi scored 4 times in the 4-0 Catalan derby win v Espanyol at Camp Nou in Pep Guardiola's last game in charge at home. Gracies Pep (pictured).

When Sagrada Familia was in its 119th year of construction - Barcelona, Spain.

When Berlin welcomed 2012 with the world's biggest street festival.

When Miss Kittin played at Weekend Club, Berlin on New Years night.

23 years after the Berlin Wall was destroyed.

When London hosted one of the greatest Olympic Games ever.

When Rakija was on the house at a restaurant in Zadar, Croatia.



7 years after Berlin controversially erected the memorial for the murdered Jews of Europe (WWII) in the neighbourhood of Friedrichstadt (pictured).

When Swedish House Mafia played for one of the last times together at Tomorrowland 2012.

When Above and Beyond played to an intimate crowd at the Oval Space, London.

When Markus Schulz played a marathon 7-hour set at Ministry of Sound, London.

19 years after Stari Most (old bridge), standing for 427 years, was destroyed in the Yugoslav civil war in Mostar, Bosnia-Hercegovina (pictured).

When Bradley Wiggins won the 2012 Tour de France on the Champs Elysees. Allez Wiggo.

Waiting in a 2-hour line to climb the Eiffel Tower, in my King of the Mountain Tour de France jersey and team BMC Cadel Evans cap. 

When Eden Hazard announced himself to Chelsea and the world in his debut match at Stamford Bridge v Reading.

When the UK went into its 33rd day of summer rain.

When the UK went into a double-dip recession.

And we're only half way...

Babo's update from the Ol' Smoke - September 16, 2011

So I have finally decided to update my blog after three and a half tumultuous months of house hunting, house furnishing, job searching, hard working, hard partying and cover driving.

What have I done you ask?

Landed with an empty suitcase, and one shoe

London will forever be known as the place where I signed my first ever tenancy agreement. Coupled with this is my newfound ability to furnish a house, using my creative flair and instinct to become one of the best unknown interior designers of the modern age.

Looking back on the pain and anguish of finding a property which included; shifting 80kg of luggage in and out of hostels on a constant basis for three and half weeks, fickle landlords which promised everything and delivered nothing, attending to over 25 houses around London to find a suitable property for its inhabitants, the blatant ignorance shown by real estate agencies to a pair of Aussies who had nothing but a couple of suitcases and their share of savings - The hardest period of my life. If it wasn't for the kindness and generosity of my cricket captain, I would have been homeless on the May bank holiday weekend. Thank you once again skip.

Living in West Kensington has its up and downs. Its ups being a local kebab store, two train stations with great access to the city (District and Piccadilly lines), and a supermarket on the corner of my street. Its downs? Not much, just an edgy place to be in after dark, but so is everywhere in London. I am happy living here.

Work hard, play harder

Although it may sound good that I have been working, the instability that contract and temp work provides is quite frustrating. However, I have worked at one of the biggest sporting events in the world in Wimbledon, and for one of the biggest media conglomerates in the world, The Walt Disney Company, London really is a city of opportunity. I have made many friends through work and hope to make many more along the way. I currently write part-time in a freelance journalist role for the newly developed SoccerAnchor.com, which is sure to kick off in the near future.

You 'work to live' in London, as opposed to the 'live to work' mentality back in Melbourne, a clear indication of this is the crowded pubs on weeknights, and the common sight of a rushing jetsetter on a Thursday or Friday afternoon, with his or her carry on luggage attempting to make the earliest flight out to a sunny beach in mainland Europe.

Friends with benefits

Not the way you first interpreted, but I have met some awesome people in London. Meeting a group of Brazilians has enabled us to receive priority entry into some of the most exclusive clubs in London. Some of the biggest nights out include Boujis Thursdays (South Kensington - our favourite night), Chinawhite Fridays (Soho) and Aura Saturdays (Mayfair). I am yet to explore the edgy East, but I have tantalised the dance floors of the world famous Fabric, and of course, God's  own Ministry of Sound (Laidback Luke SW4 after party), the most amazing sound system you will ever experience.

The Land of Tomorrow - Tomorrowland 2011(DeSchoore, Boom, Belgium)

The greatest festival. I literally cannot describe how good this festival was. It was like I dived into one of my favourite fairytale adventures beginning with the beats of Kaskade, and ending with the drum of Richie Hawtin. 

I stood suspended above the cauldron of the main stage on the first tier for the best part of three days, listening to tomorrow's sounds of Kaskade, Dirty South, Faithless, Swedish House Mafia, Steve Aoki, Afrojack, Avicii, Martin Solveig, Dimitri Vegas and Like Mike, Tiesto, Cosmic Gate, Arno Cost, Nervo, Wolfgang Gartner, Laidback Luke, Chuckie, David Guetta, 2ManyDJs and Richie Hawtin. My favourite? Avicii. The most amazing artist and only 22 years of age. The crowd engagement by Guetta was breathtaking, 35,000 people jumping and swaying to his cheesy commercial beats.

The people at this festival are all there for one common purpose; To jump and fist pump their way to happiness, the greatest indication of this, the man at the apex of a human pyramid who eventually toppled his way down to suffer severe neck injuries. That was one injury of many. 

Aside from the festival itself, I made friends from Canada, Australia, England and Spain along the way, most of us still sharing our experiences on Facebook. The buffet breakfast at our hotel fuelled us for the day, it included; Eggs, sausages, cold meats, yoghurt, fruit salad, croissants, juice, cheeses and cereal. I did not depart Brussels without purchasing 90 euro worth of Belgian chocolate, which lead to 2 weeks of utter indulgence back in London.

If you ever want the complete festival experience, save all your money and go to Tomorrowland. I will be there next year.

What about London?

The beautiful city speaks for itself. A city under duress with almost 5,000 people per sq/km, extremely confusing weather patterns, a transport system far superior to Melbourne's yet so far underdeveloped for the population it beholds. It can be edgy in some parts, smelly in others, with people in their own element, particularly going to and from work. Elbows must be raised when commuting to save yourself from injury. Above all else, this wonderful city is host to the most olden, most beautiful pieces of architecture the world can offer. Having a stroll down Westminster explains exactly this.

London is a happening city. There is a pub on every corner, a convenience store every 30 metres, a vast array of  restaurants all with different cuisines, and off license stores that sell cheap alcohol, cigarettes and pharmaceutical products for all walks of life. Clubs are in abundance, and if you don't have a plan when you go out, you simply will have a bad night. Going out with a plan is a must. Happy hour is almost every hour in pubs, mainly Thursday and Fridays after work where you are able to witness some of the most drunken situations occur before your eyes, including wine bottle sculling contests, and countless mounds of vomit on footpaths.

Some may not enjoy London on their European travels simply because it does not offer a beach, or beach weather for that matter. There is so much more to London than what is seen from the eyes of a tourist. It is the experiences of every day life that is most beautiful about this famous city.

Festivals and dance parties are never ending. I attended Clapham's own South West Four which was plenty of fun, Deadmau5 had his own dance party at Victoria Park earlier in June, Glastonbury Festival, Global Gathering, Reading Festival, Bestival, Creamfields, just to name a few.You can have your own festival at home even. Pete Tong hosts BBC Radio One Friday nights, which covers everything you need to hear to have a festival in your lounge room.

The riots? I was not affected, but it was a big deal in a city that is just 11 months away from hosting the Olympic Games. The closest it got was to Ealing about 3 miles away, where a shopping setting was set ablaze, and in Notting Hill, where a couple of shop front windows were smashed in. We were on high alert at work, some not being able to commute home due to their respective suburb's being considered at high risk.

I continue to pray every night for this city, the city that will be swarmed by millions around the world in what will be the most frenzied Olympics of the modern era, beginning late July next year.

1992, 2009, now 2011  - Nizopole, FYR Macedonia

After completing my contract at Wimbledon I set off back to the birthplace of my Mother and Father, my Grandfather's and Grandmother's, the village my family inhabits, a village rich with culture, tradition and natural beauty.

My one-week trip involved a moving and eye-opening village experience, which was soon forgotten by night as I took advantage of a weakened currency by fuelling my body with the most horrible of toxins, mainly the one deriving from a country called Russia.

The elderly people of the village are the most amazing, sharing their mind-blowing stories and hospitability, the younger generation fleeing a land of little opportunity which now leaves a place soon to be desserted, a sad thought to behold.

The biggest progression made since my last visit in 2009 was an outdoor open-air club near the Olympic Pool called Club Positive, where the beats projected til the early morning and the hundreds of Bitolonians danced (greased) til they could no more.

I left the village with full intention of returning whilst in London, hopefully at Christmas time to spend with my grandparents in the snow-filled mountains of Pelister. However, I do have a sad suspicion that this village will be no longer once the next couple generations pass on, a thought that will haunt me until fate is revealed.

Mashala Bodrum, Mashala - Bodrum, Turkey

The profound beauty of Turkey was discovered on my birthday weekend celebrations in Bodrum on its beautiful south coast. Here, I indulged into some of the finest Turkish cuisine, including traditional dishes which consisted of all forms of kebabs, casseroles and dips. By night the harbour was abuzz with tourists enjoying the loud sounds of the Bodrum nightclubs, or if you fancied a quiet night, a stroll along the main strip which was lined with shops and eatery's that remained open til the early hours.

I went aboard the famous Catamaran nightclub, a floating night club which sailed afloat the Mediterranean til the early hours of the morning. The club had a see-through dancefloor and a loose contingent of Belgian university girls which were having a wild ol' time. After hours, I would race down to the 24 hour cake store which hosted the largest array of sweets I have ever seen (See Facebook photos). One of the nights we managed to go to McDonalds first and indulge in four exotic Turkish menu items which included the McTurko, the McKofte, the Mega Mac and 6 nuggets. I arrived home 2.5kg heavier.

The cultural aspect of Bodrum was still to be seen even though it is highly frequented by tourists. On the last day I experienced a Turkish bath and shave, what an experience. We met a lovely couple from Oslo, Norway who we now have contact with and will look to pay them a visit sometime in the near future. 

The transport system is quite confusing, yet so efficient. Mini buses are used to transport you from the harbour to the beaches outside Bodrum, the locals doing their best to provide you with the utmost safety and care, a common behaviour found amongst Turkish people. 

All in all, Turkey was a great experience, with the plan to see 'real' Turkey by visiting Istanbul in the near future. 

That bloody left-handed Aussie ****

So after my maiden century on English soil a day after landing, I proceeded to make a further 430 runs in 6 knocks, including two centuries and four 50's (98 in last game) to take my tally to 531 for the season at an average of 131.5. I am not boasting, just stating the facts in case you thought the late reverse swing would get to me.

I felt more confident on the pitches over here, simply because they were harder and not as green. It is much easier when you are not expected to make runs, however, I go into next season with a massive season to back up. This will test me.

The boys down at Ham & Petersham are sensational. There is a different character in each and every one of them, most susceptible to a pint or 7 at the Hand and Flower after a tough day's play on the common.

Cricket is a gentleman's game here and it pissed me off quite a bit. The sledging was well tamed, and the etiquette shown was too much at times, particularly when clapping in the batsman. However, I should not be complaining because I can officially say that I was in England during the time their Test side reached World Number 1 ranking. Ouch.

Living and breathing the Beautiful Game

Being a freelance football writer involves enough football for one day, but when you can come home, cook dinner, then switch it to Sky Sports to see Manchester United v Benfica clash on a Wednesday night, it becomes a way of living, not to mention the numerous other European leagues shown at prime time. 

Apart from watching the endless hours of football shown on Sky Sports, I was in attendance at Old Trafford for Manchester United's record 19th title last May, and witnessed Nani round Joe Hart to secure our 19th Charity Shield at the famous Wembley Stadium.

I have only attended one game this season, that being the first game away to West Bromwich Albion. I travelled with an Australian friend by coach to Birmingham on the Sunday morning after a ridiculously big Saturday night, a journey I'd rather forget. Upon arrival in Birmingham we circled The Hawthorns before entering a pub not far from the ground, a pub that hosted some of the ugliest specimen known to this planet, specimen of both United and West Brom contingents. We sat in the second row from the front, practically eye level with the surface and only metres away from my heroes. United went on to win with a piece of individual brilliance from Ashley Young late on, which unfortunately I could not celebrate since I was sitting in the West Brom section, however I did receive a supportive retweet from @mufcfans on twitter where I was able to cry my support for my beloved Red Devils. A great day out and a 'story to tell the grandkids'.

I have tickets to the United v City game in late October, as well as the dream match against Liverpool in February. I also plan to attend a Champions League away match, possibly Basel, or maybe wait til the round of 16 with the hope of visiting the San Siro, Nou Camp or Allianz Arena with a manic United supporter group. In addition, I will try my best to see United against all 6 London clubs this season.

Where to from here?

In just two weeks I travel to Munich to be part of the last weekend of Oktoberfest, a weekend I guarantee to chunder on beer at least four times. 

In November, Eric Prydz makes an appearance for a Winter Music Festival at Alexandra Palace in North London. 20 s-quid a ticket, Yesiree.

Speaking of Alexandra Palace, the World Darts Championships kicks off in December, an event we are sure to get down to and sing to 'Chase the Sun' with every other inbred before each commercial break.

New Years Eve is still up in the air, but we as a household are almost convinced that it will be spent at the Brandenburg Gates in Berlin, Germany, a site which hosts one of the biggest NYE parties in the world.

Next year will pose new questions, new ambitions, but until then, the journey I have experienced thus far has been life changing, character building, self-maturing, mind blowing, and above all else, the best time of my life.

Am I coming home soon? No.

Dreams Do Come True - Manchester United v Blackpool at Old Trafford CHAMP19NS

My second day in the UK and life goal number one already achieved. Before my arrival in the UK I organised to see the Manchester United v Blackpool game at Old Trafford, a game in which United would be presented their record-breaking 19th League Trophy. Tickets were scarce, but I was able to secure one through a local Supporters Group.

I woke up at 5am, mainly due to jetlag, but I would be wrong if I said I did not have an ounce of adrenalin running through my veins. I arrived at London Euston around 45 mins before train departure (9.20am). Here I met my friend (I will constantly refer to him as 'friend'). We had something to eat and got to know eachother. He was a bloke I had never met before, but we are all 'United' at Manchester, hence the friend reference. The last call for Manchester Piccadilly projected over the PA speaker and we made a run for the Park Ji Sung platform, platform 13.

My reserved seat 43A was occupied, so I took it as a free-for-all, taking any seat I can. Of course, two minutes before departure and a group of young English women approached me and advised that I was sitting in their seat. Being the gentleman I am, I offered my seat to the young lady who looked like she had really enjoyed her Saturday night in London. With the Stretford End at the forefront of my mind, I did not come to the realisation that I would be standing for the next two and a half hours. If somebody told me I could only go to Old Trafford to watch United lift the title for the 19th time under the condition that I had to stand, I would have done it with one leg (maybe not).

The train was saturated with red. It was still early and nobody was in any mood for banter, except for Steven and friend. For the first hour and a half, my friend and I (who was also Melburnian) reminisced about football in Australia, lifestyle, club scene and stereotype. We received blank stares from some (those British girls) and chuckles from others (United supporters). Clearly I am more fancied by a United supporter than a British girl. In the rare break of conversation, I was able to spare a moment and gaze out the window at the English country-side. For what it is worth, I could not really care about the English country-side, I just wanted to get to Old Trafford. I have plenty of time to sit back and watch Catriona Rowtree give a 'comprehensive' three-minute 'Getaway' speel about the English Country-side.

So we reached Manchester Piccadilly, walked to the square, dumped our luggage and headed back to the station to catch the train to Old Trafford. We missed the first train, and in the wait for the second, a flock of Manchester City supporters arrived on the platform to set on their short trip to the Reebok Stadium at Bolton. One 'Citeh' supporter tried to mark his territory by advising me I was on the wrong platform. It was my first experience of distaste between rival Football Clubs in the UK.

We ended up on the 3:01pm train, just under an hour away from kick-off. We arrived at Old Trafford soon after to be greeted by the stadium's perimetre.  I was immediately subsided by the colossal presence of this wonderful stadium. We wasted no time in heading towards the Stretford End (left of screen) where we were met by an insurmountable stairwell to the upper tier, well so it seemed anyway. After a vigorous climb, I rushed through the concourse to get the first momentous view of the surface that has been graced by so many of my idols. I soaked up the moment, took my seat and really thought about where I was. Around 20 minutes before kick off, I pressed record on the voice memo application on my phone to ensure I get every sound that was churned out of the Stretford End this afternoon. The stadium was still half full, although the Western Wing started to populate as the seats that spelled 'Manchester United' started to become occupied. Music was played over the PA, atmosphere building and fans started to find their voice.

3:55pm and the greatest English Club made their way on to Old Trafford from the tunnel below me. A guard of honour was set up by the Blackpool players to commend title number 19. I really could not believe what I was witnessing as the chant 'Campeones' exploded in a sudden instant. Players shook hand and took their position. The ball was played back to Paul Scholes, yes Paul Scholes, as he characteristically looked to play to the wide spaces of Old Trafford. I took a stance like many others and started singing at full voice. The chants rolled on; From 'Are you watching Merseyside?' to 'Viva Ronaldo'. My involvement was not at capacity as I still wanted to ensure I was getting all the photos and videos to prove my existence in this stadium.

Not long in and Park made it 1-0 after a clever Berbatov headed pass. There was no exclamation about the cheer. It was comparable to the cheer Park Ji Sung receives when his name is announced in the starting line up. Not long after and Charlie Adam made it 1-1. A sublime free kick which left Edwin Van Der Sar rooted to the spot. The goal was greeted by an applause from the Old Trafford faithful, who were more than happy to concede a draw if it meant Blackpool stayed up. Half time arrived and after 45 minutes of standing and singing I took my seat for a respite.I took a moment to reflect before I went through my phone and camera to ensure I had taken all the necessary footage of this great day.

Blackpool started the second half well and were rewarded with the lead thanks to Gary Taylor-Fletcher, who with this goal had put Blackpool safe from relegation. Not long after and Anderson levelled, and when Smalling's low cross was turned in by a Blackpool defender, the hopes of the Blackpool faithful in the opposite corner of the stadium slowly faded. The Stretford End were enjoying themselves and went through 10 minutes of 'old skool', starting with 'Ooh ahh Cantona', moving on to 'Keano' and fittingly ending with 'Gary Neville is a red', only days before playing his testimonial against Juventus. Michael Owen made his entrance into the arena and in typical Owen fashion he scored United's fourth as the chant 'You Scouse Bastard' went up in the Stretford End.

It was a day of celebration and no matter what the result was, the mood could not be killed on this historic day. Blackpool were to be relegated back to the Championship. On their way out, a standing ovation from United supporters was further escalated to a roar in praise of Ian Holloway, who not too dissimilar to Sir Alex Ferguson would always speak his mind in the media. Holloway acknowledged the ovation he received and headed down the tunnel. 'Campeones' and 'Que Sera Sera' rang around the stadium once again in anticipation of the United team re-appearing to collect their medals.

The team re-appeared in unison as they hopped, skipped and jumped their way to the stage. One-by-one they were announced to their cheers of the crowd. The two loudest roars came three from the end. Firstly Paul Scholes (10th title) and a quick rendition of 'He scores goals galore', then Ryan Giggs, whose 12th Premier League title had the Stretford End singing 'Giggs will tear you apart, again'. Captain Nemanja Vidic rounded off the celebrations by being the last presented, then proceeding to lift the historic 19th title, effectively knocking Liverpool 'off their perch'. 'Are you watching Merseyside?' erupted again to remind Liverpool supporters of the proceedings taking place. To add further insult, the Scousers went down 1-0 to Aston Villa.

A slow lap of honour took place as players were greeted by their family, and the Streford End gave it their all one last time for season 2010/11. Wayne Rooney provided one more highlight as he urged his son towards goal at the Stretford End with his miniature football. Kai took the ball from 6 yards and made his way to the goal line only to over-run the ball at the last attempt, which was ruthfully finished by on-coming father Wayne, much to the jubilation of the Stretford End.

The stadium emptied and I remained to get my last glimpses of the Theatre, just incase I never made it back there again. On exit I ensured I took a photo with all 19 Championship-winning teams as displayed on the walls outside Old Trafford, as well as capturing the memorials and tributes to the Munich Air Disaster of 1958. I waited outside for the players to leave, capturing glimpses of all the players, including Rooney, Rio, Fletcher, Smalling, Park, Anderson and Edwin Van Der Sar. Rio took off in his Jaguar not long after Anderson pulled the scissor doors down of his SLR McLaren. The Megastore was closed, and thankfully so as I could have remained there for quite a while. I managed to purchase three scarves, one in memory of the Munich Air Disaster, another in protest of Glazer, and the final one, the 19th Championship edition.

I promised myself to go back there again next season, and if all goes to plan, my dream of watching a Manchester United v Liverpool fixture could well be within reach.

'Watch out for the late swing' - 103 n.o on debut

So we (Elena and I) arrived at Richmond Station to be greeted by 'Cooky', who took his time getting there. I think the races were on because people were dressed up in all sorts of outfits. We jumped in Cooky's mini convertible, it was 20 degrees on this day so he had every right to have the roof down. By the way, I had no cricket gear whatsoever.

We arrived at Ham Common, the home of Ham & Petersham around 10 minutes before the first ball was to be bowled, an ideal preparation for a bloke who likes to go through the motions beforehand. I put on my makeshift whites (Thank you Tebbsy) and ventured out to the Common where I was greeted by a welcoming bunch of lads. We were bowling. For once I did not have my customary place in the field, or did I? The skipper must have heard through the grapevine (Costello-vine) that I field in gully, so I assumed the position I have made my own over the years.


We started off well taking two early wickets. A small partnership formed before more wickets fell and it looked like this match would be done by 4pm. The 10th wicket put on 50-ish, which was a testament to the wicket they were batting on, not so much their stroke play. The total set to chase was 196 off 45 overs.

Tea was at the Flower and Garden Pub, right next door to the club house. A great spread was put on by the H&P boys. After the re-fuelling I made my way back to the change rooms where I donned the pads for the first time in the Northern Hemisphere. Tebbsy lent me his Gray Nicolls, similar to my Phoenix Hayden 380, but not quite as heavy. I backed myself and decided against a helmet and a thigh pad. In this competition, the same ball is used for the entire match, so we would be facing a 45-over old ball first up. Lick my lips I did.

Chas and I waltzed to the crease in confidence. The pitch was dry and hard. Chas took his stance, I waited down the other end. For some reason I did not feel much pressure. I think I was delerious. I started slowly, working singles to fine leg and mid off. It was not until around the 11th over, where I went cover drive (4), cover drive (4), cut shot (4) until I found my groove.

I had full confidence in the pitch and was able to work singles, sometimes two's into tight gaps. The outfield was lightning, so a full blown shot was not required. I leaned on a few that pierced gaps and hit the odd boundary. Boundaries were short square of the wicket and quite long straight.

I reached 50 just before drinks and was delighted. All the pressure the Costello's had put on me was finally released. It took me a few overs to get back into it after drinks. Run rate was just about par, but I wanted to get it over and done with as jetlag was really starting to take full effect. I played some improvising shots, including some late cuts that beat 3rd man for four.

We were 0/150 off around 30 overs and it was important that Chas and I went on with it. We developed a great understanding between the wickets, turning 2's into 3's, and in one instance, an all-run 4. Mid off pushed deep for me, so I continually pushed the ball out to him and ran 2.

We needed 14 to win, Tebbsy signalled '10' with his hands, meaning I was on 90. Four through mid wicket, probably my best shot of the day. 94, 10 to win. I was sweating on a real loose one, wanting to bring up the ton in style with a 6. My first attempt at glory saw a top edge into my melon, the first time I have ever been hit in the head without a helmet. I will never not wear a helmet again. My second attempt brough a massive appeal as I swung hard and missed, the ball coming off my pad and 'something else', creating two noises. I was that delerious I was not sure that I hit it. The keeper was convinced. Chas joined in the fun, scoring a few on his own making the task of getting to the Century a little tougher.

We needed 7 to win when I stretched for a wide one through point for four. I moved to 98, 3 to win. I pushed a single to mid off on the last ball of the over, selfish of me. 2 to win, I was on 99. The first ball of the next over was wide down leg side, it ran down to the boundary, I thought it was going all the way. There were shouts of fine leg to kick it over for 4, ultimately denying me my hundred. In good sport, fine leg hurled it back in, leaving me on 99 and 1 to win due to the wide. The next ball was full and outside off, bang through the covers it went for four. Century on debut, I could not be more happier with my start to cricket in the UK. We chased the score with plenty of overs spare and 10 wickets in hand. 0/201. Chas ended up with an awesome 71 n.o, a credit to him for sticking it out after I had run him into the ground with some 2's and 3's.

A great win first up, and a knock that would put me into submission in the coming days.

Go the H&P!

'Sussing out the 'Burbs' - First full day in London

My first official day in London saw me awake at 4am, yes, I was jetlagged. In fact, I had probably slept around 9 hours in 3 days up until this point. The sun was up, which is quite annoying sometimes, especially if you are from Australia. There is about a 6 hour period of darkness between sunset and sunrise here in London, not ideal if you like your sleep.

I got up, had my first shower in a few days under a freezing water temperature, simply because I did not know how to work the hot water. Elena and I got ourselves ready and we ventured down to Oxford St, Soho (60m walk) to eat some breakfast. My first meal in London would be McDonalds breakfast. I had a sausage and egg bagel and it was mouthwatering. The McDonalds menu has a greater variety here in London.

After breakfast we ventured off to the 'burbs to get a feel for locations which we thought would be ideal to live in. First stop, Clapham Common. By the way, the London Underground rail system is just brilliant. Clapham offered parklands, Old English architecture, and a main strip with all the necessities, including some funky bars and pubs.

We moved on to Balham, which is not much further out of London than Clapham. Balham seemed like a cheap version of Clapham. It was much flatter in design and probably had half the amneties of Clapham. It still had McDonalds though.

Kensington was our next stop. We found ourselves in the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea which meant strips of cafe's and restaurants, and an ultra-large Harrod's store just up the road. Property in Kensington is expensive. A good comparison would be Toorak in Melbourne. However, it is a wonderful suburb with plenty to do.

Our last stop before I had to play cricket was Fulham Broadway. Fulham presented a vibrant feel and a more attractive population. The properties are a bit more affordable than Kensington but still expensive. We had lunch at a nice little Burger place, I had a chicken satay burger.

That rounded up our first expedition of London. Now it was time to venture out to Richmond for my first game of cricket.

What was Captain Cook thinking?

In the 1800's, Captain Cook set on a voyage to discover the land we now call Australia. But seriously, what was he thinking?

After 21 hours of flying and 3 hours of transition, we reached London. That's flying though. Captain Cook sailed, but the other way. At stages we were flying into 60 km/h head winds, imagine Captain Cook sailing into a head wind? He would have to start his voyage all over again.

Anyway, after saying goodbye to the loved ones, we (Elena and I) entered the 'doors of destiny', only to be held up by a bloke too passionate about his job. All he had to do was wave us through. Not this bloke, he was too passionate about his job. After uncle Jim scared the living daylights out of him he called his boss, who with some common sense, let us through to fulfil our ambition of... Getting through customs?

I was tested for explosives, then almost lost my carry bag with all the essentials i.e. Passport, money, cards etc. I checked in on Facebook for one final time, accumulating 20+ likes (Equivalent to picking up 3 birds in one night).


The plane found its way into the air somehow. For a while I was thinking about the mechanisms of flying a plane, but it was incomprehensible. We tried to sleep for periods to no avail. The first time I checked the flight map was when we were out of Australia (flying North West). The longer you ignore the flight map, the better your psychological state. Not long before our first stop over, a lady behind us found her way into a fetal position in the aisle. Elena brought it to my attention, I thought she was dead. I think she was trying to get attention of cabin crew so she can be bumped up to first class. Good improvisation.

Kuala Lumpur was the stopover. A clean, no fuss airport with fine cuisine which included a spicy satay breakfast and an air of freshness, as well as a clever piece of transport known as the Aero Rail. A few hours later we were north of India. What did this mean? It meant that I turned to Elena and said, 'right Smell, we're about to hit 'Turban'ulence', and we did. It must have been due to a whirlwind spell from Harbhajan Singh below us that created pockets of air pressure 15,000 feet above.

We reached the mountainous regions of Afghanistan. The plane started forming a flight path similar to a Lionel Messi solo run. Zig zags, dilly dellys, Cruyff turns, the lot. I started wondering whether we were getting shot at. In fact, the pilot increased the plane's altitude by 9,000 feet, which seemed like a contingency plan for any attacks coming from the ground.

Europe beckoned. The flight path indicated that we were flying between Kiev and Donetsk, then Poznan, then all of a sudden we were nearing Berlin. By now, the baby sitting two rows infront of us had gone into its fourth straight hour of raw screaming. Further on Brussels came, and not long after, the promise land. Crossing the channel was dull, but as soon as the plane descended from the clouds, it all became a reality. The distinct architectual arch of Wembley appeared and so did the congested infrastructure of one of the world's fondest cities, the city we call London.

The flight was gruelling, but as I write this blog from the comfort (lie) of my hostel room in Soho, it was all worth it.

85 days out

Here I am welcoming myself to the wonderful world of Blogging. My main purpose of this blog is to keep a history, timeline, recollection, archive, of all the wonderful and not-so-wonderful things I do and encounter during my life-experimenting expedition to London, United Kingdom.

I'm not going to lie, today is probably the first day I have had any realisation of my move to London. I went and got my name changed from 'Sterjo' (Official birth name) to 'Steven' at the bank, just to ensure that all legal documents are consistent, and that I am not mistaken for any sort of terrorism glorifier.

I start a new full time position tomorrow at albion on a 3-month contract, which should see me out til my date with destiny, May 20 (Yes, my flights are booked for 12.15am take off May 20 - Thurs night/Fri morn). I am also currently undertaking part time work with the Football Federation Victoria in a Media & Events role, which keeps me busy on the weekends.

Cricket is going well, we sit 2nd and are playing two not-so-strong sides in remaining games before finals. It really is my last crack with the boys to get the elusive flag we have been trying so hard for since our last in 05/06.

I need to get cracking with my Visa (Tier 5 - Youth Mobility), which will hopefully be submitted by early next week. This is also a chance to make welcome 'Babo the Hibernating Hermit', where you will find me no further than 3m away from my TV, watching my beloved reigning premiers, the Collingwood Football Club, and of course, my soon-to-be  'first-hand' sporting team (if that made sense), Manchester United. I need to get cracking in the gym as well, although I am moving to the UK, where you can never steer clear of beer (apparently). Oh yep, Melbourne v Essendon in NAB Cup 1/4 final, I best be off.