DerrenWilson.net

Everyone pay attention to me, because I am your Nostradamus of telly, oh yes I am. On September the 4th, 2003, I added this blog entry about the Australian television sensation the Block, and finished the entry with:

‘So maybe next year, Davina McCall (or possibly Lawrence Llewellyn Bowen, or insert name of your favourite reality show host here) will be introducing us to ‘a new reality show sensation’’

Just a few nights ago ITV started to show promos for the English version of the show (probable website here), and I had to concentrate hard to stop my head exploding with barely-repressed joy (another useful bit of Australian telly information: while I was there, they kicked the wrong person out of their Big Brother house).

One day I hope to bring you an actually useful piece of information…

Our friendly neighbourhood estate agent called me on Friday to say that our Landlord has decided to sell the house we are currently renting, in the lovely High Peak village of Hayfield. He duly came to the house on Saturday to have a wander around and reassure himself that someone would pay £149,995 for it (I’d say at least twenty thousand pounds of that would be due to the incredibly clean, stylish and neat people who currently live there).

Aside: has anyone else noticed how people say prices on UK TV? It’s not ‘three hundred and ninety-nine pounds’ but ‘three nine nine’ – that makes it sound much cheaper…

So we have started looking (translation: a drive in the wet and cold yesterday around a few places) for a new house to move all our stuff into, and it seems that a move further up the A6 to the spa town of Buxton might be best, as it seems to have reasonable transport links (or does it?) and slightly more affordable houses. And an M&S.

Yes, it did. I was just finishing another amazing entry when it ‘unexpectedly quit’. You can say that again. I’m switching to Firefox.

I would normally give up in disgust, and not inflict a pointless entry like this on you today, but I’ve discovered that there are quite a few family members (Mr B, Ms K) who like reading my blog. It’s very odd to see someone again for the first time in six? seven? years, and be asked after five minutes ‘So what’s this obsession you have with Boeing 727s?’. That means I need to keep the deep dark family secret only I know about off this weblog…

Oh yeah, the site I was going to blog about was you have bad taste in music wherein you can see clips of a man in an army helmet haranging people who attempt to go see bands like Train and Evanescence on purpose. Very satisfying. If I didn’t think my face was so attractive I might try the same thing myself. When’s Busted playing in Manchester?

Airline travel is so disorientating – one minute you’re travelling at 120kph down Dubai’s Sheik Zayed Road in an immaculate air-conditioned taxi to get to the airport, and after seven hours of watching TV, including an old Later… with Jools Holland on the plane (not as bad as it sounds) you’s suddenly staring at a sign for the Glossop Amalgamated Anglers’ Club as it rains hard on the A57.

And now I’m back at work, trying to remember how to y’know, do layers in Photoshop, or what that PHP variable is there for.

But I did enjoy myself immensely while I was away (thanks, Mum, for sorting it all out for us). I’ll give myself a couple of days to get back to normal and then let you all know what went on in Australia and Dubai, what a Cherry Ripe and Tim-Tam are, and why I never got around to having a Kitchener bun.

I’ve not stopped for the last week or so. From Monday to Wednesday we enjoyed a bracing time in Apollo Bay, looking out from the top floor of our rented house over the bay at a broiling sea, all white caps and wind.

Then Thursday and Friday a quick trip to Melbourne: Federation Square, Botanic Gardens, out to Kate’s boyfriend’s house for Vietnamese and bubble tea, back to Melbourne, the Zoo, and to Kate’s house to liberate a few (hundred) of my CDs.

Finally another trip out into the wilds of Victoria to see 428 penguins at Phillip Island and 22 Koalas in the Koala sanctuary.

That took us up to last night, where we prepared to get up at 6.30 to get the plane to Adelaide today, where I am now updating my site on Aunt Zena’s and Uncle Steve’s kitchen table, among other things.

I’m here, in the land of tim tam and cherry ripe, Australia. We left Manchester on Tuesday afternoon and arrived in Melbourne early on Thursday morning, visiting the duty-free shops of Dubai and Singapore along the way, and being caged in a metal tube for the rest of the time.

Once again, my mystical connection to the number 37 manifested itself on the way over, as we were given seat 37A and 37B on the Dubai-Melbourne section of the trip; as a bonus, they turned out to be the ones next to the emergency exit with the extra leg-room (Emirates Boeing 777-300). I read about half of one of the four books that I took with me; the rest of the time I was staring at the ceiling or trying to sleep.

The jet-lag has nearly gone; it goes in and out like the tide – I obviously need to medicate with further Farmer’s Union Iced Coffees at the correct intervals.

I’ve seen my sister’s two lovely babies and been driven all over Geelong in search of chorizo. The weather’s held off being truly wintery so far. I’m off to Apollo Bay tomorrow to be beside the sea-side.