Sunday 24th August 2008

Photos, photos, photos.
It’s a real chore with my incredibly slow computer but I must do it.
Finally finished sorting all outstanding pictures. Big sigh.

Denied entry to the library for carrying a packet of biscuits. I’ll never pay to use a locker out of principle. Least of all for a packet of biscuits!
That gives me all the excuse I need to escape this chore. No uploads today.

Rush to gym for a quick swim before close. No trunks!
Saunter back again.

Hunter gathering at Woolies for dinner. On the way I spot headphone-dancey man, only tonight it’s headphone singing. Every bit as bad as it sounds. Maybe worse!

Saturday 23rd August 2008

Work on some photos.
Library is at full capacity – and it’s not even raining!?

Swimming helps put some motion back in the still painful limbs.
Fish sans chips in the harbour then back to the bright lights, big city for Saturday night.
…and another quiet night in no doubt.
No money and even less inclination to drink.

Jen has moved into an apartment but she’s at the hostel to have dinner with Cathy. I spot them as I wander through the dining room.
We attempt a few games of pool through the distraction of a hetero-phobic drag act. Not so much a ‘performance’ as two guys in disturbingly short skirts venting years of emotional pain and suffering accumulated as a result of their lifestyle choice, in retaliation towards their tormentors: the entire heterosexual male population, it seems.

It’s socially unacceptable to stand in a public forum and attack (even in jest) the likes of: homosexuals, the old, the young, the overweight, the entire female half of the species, the homeless, blacks, browns, yellows, greens, purples, any religious group or worship-based sect or cult, the physically disadvantaged, the mentally disadvantaged, the financially disadvantaged, the advantage disadvantaged who may or may not be disadvantaged in a way they may or may not wish to disclose, as is their right as a disadvantaged…or advantaged…

There is, however, one tiny minority group towards which any degree of mocking, malicious or derogatory remarks may be targeted. A perfect fall guy for any other classification of personage to vent their anger on for whatever misfortune or mistreatment they may have suffered at some time in their life.
Who is this punch bag for society? For all to lay in the boot when an arse needs kicking?
It is of course, our very own: single, white, intelligent, non-religion-specific, (hard)working, able-bodied, heterosexual, average built, medium aged male.

Or the “SWINRSHWABHABMAM” as I like to call them. You can call him Dave.

Once I recover from the intelligent and deeply hurtful quips (“you f***ing germs”) from a guy who choses to gain his pleasures from playing dress-up in front of crowds drunken backpackers, I spot a couple of lads I recognise from Backpack Oz in Adelaide.
Names have never been my strong point.

Friday 22nd August 2008

I feel slightly less hurty. Usually day 2 is worse, so I guess 16 hours in bed must have helped.

Another sauna dose.

Thursday 21st August 2008

Wake feeling a little sick. Kind of like hunger sickness but I have no appetite.
My body is filled with the aches of a cold, but I know it’s not a cold.
Try a stint in the sauna & spa to soothe it away.

Well I can’t say I feel any better; just more sorry for myself.
Pain is tiring. Subway and bed (17:00)

Wednesday 20th August 2008

Up early to make sure I don’t miss my ride out of here again.

Sleep…sleep…
Home, sweet home!
Back in the white-noise buzz of the city; and no longer need to walk like an absurd chicken-penguin hybrid to keep from slipping over.

Back in Urban Central. I must have forgotten about the plastic mattresses.

Brazilian Jujitsu – I splash out on the 10 session card ($99).
My dodgy toe feels half dislocated again, I have a mat burn I know is going to drive me mad for the next week and the aches are on their way for sure. But I just love it!
Become pals with a Korean guy called Ryan. I settle for his adopted Western name and don’t bother pressing for his real one. His perfect American accent suggests he is another graduate of the ‘Friends’ school of English.

My toe is REALLY not pleased with me!

Tuesday 19th August 2008

Living in the clouds; literally.

There’s only ONE bus a day off this mountain. 45 minutes ago!
Stuck up a maintain.
On the bight side, it gives me some time to actually enjoy the white stuff.
I take the fire track walk around the perimeter of the resort.

Shannon isn’t happy with her new tattoo. I’ve no idea what or where.

Sharkey comes back with a girl at midnight. Sharing a room with two other people does nothing to kill their passion.
Full marks for longevity but penalty points for dignity and romance!

Monday 18th August 2008

[Mercure Grand, 10:00 – 20:45; 0:30 break]
A cold and a persistent nose bleed sent Earl (Woody Harrelson’s double) home by lunchtime, leaving me alone in a two man job yet again. Some time passes before I’m joined by a lad I’ve not seen before but clearly knows this role better than me. I’m more than glad to move to the slightly less frantic ‘put away’ duty.

Rostered finish time: 18:00.
It comes. It goes. Still no end in sight.
Almost three hours more of chasing the light I reach the end of this dark, dank tunnel.
Finished!
I want to run away and never come back!

Marcus Van Clippety gives me his card. He wants me back. He wants ANYONE!
If this work counts towards getting a 2nd VISA, which I seriously doubt, then I probably will be.

The hard part is over. I am just beginning to settle into the brainless automation that makes bad jobs tolerable. The only thing this place has to offer me is money. I don’t see anything else I could gain from bouncing between bed and dishwasher here. Did I come to Oz to make money?
My mind is made.

This is the first year I haven’t been skiing since I first started back in Les Gets four years ago. At least I made it to a ski resort. Almost the same feeling.

Sunday 17th August 2008

Gorgeous sunshine but melting snow on the road. Walking is slow and deliberate.

[Mercure Grand, 15:00 – 01:15; 0:15 break]
Stuart, my pot wash partner, gets fired in front of me and then just moments later Marcus offers me a full time job for the remaining six weeks of the season. Only yesterday (early this morning) I was cursing the job and looking forward to never doing it again, but after a good long sleep and the light of a new day I’m almost tempted.

As yesterday, I get no real break to speak of but they turn on the charm by plying me with fillet steak dinner. I’m unable to finish it with a belly still full from a bowl of ham and prawn fried rice some other chef pushed my direction a couple of hours earlier. All that on top of a pizza brunch I had just before starting, in expectation of not being fed again.

Mercure turns out to be a brand of Accor – parent company of the largest hotel group in the world; so I’m told.
With this pointed out Marcus suggests he could get me a job anywhere in Oz after working for him.
Good food, cheap accommodation, promise of future work, a certainty of saving up money
…and the longest, hardest and most unsatisfying job I’ve ever had.
I’m still tempted but at the same time, not.

The help of an apprentice chef allows me to finish by 01:15. God bless Cohen. The poor guy started early this morning and has to do it all over again at 08:00 tomorrow!

02:30 – I’m still considering the offer.

Saturday 16th August 2008

Short walk from my chalet, “St Anton”, to the the centre of the resort. It’s cold!

[Mercure Grand, 15:00 – 02:30]
Stephanie is here – French waitress I’ve seen at KPMG a few times.
I take over from Earl. Really nice guy but a bit hard of hearing, which makes it fun trying to learn the ropes from him.

I don’t stop until 23:30 when I take the chance to gulp down some cold curry.
Stuart and I managed to hold our ground all evening but now the chefs have finished there is a sudden and unbelievable final surge. I’m convinced that every piece of equipment they own has just been dumped on us!
Stuart has done 14.5 hours and now leaves me alone for the final stint.
three hours later I also leave.

The dishwasher is so rubbish (the same crappy model I first encountered at Queens College) that everything must be scrubbed by hand first. It is a long day of scrubbing. I count myself lucky I didn’t come here for the rest of the season like I originally agreed.

I vow never to work ‘kitchen hand’ again!

Friday 15 August 2008

The soles of my feet are whining and moaning at me today.

Agency: Mount Buller for the weekend. Leave tonight, back on Sunday.
I accept. It’ll be nice to get to see the place after all.

Drop my big bag off at Urban Central, where I’m booked in for a week when I return.
Rush to the bus stop with three minutes to spare. No wait, this isn’t it.
Four minutes later I find the coach, luckily still there.
Ticket reads: “Seat 28”
No word of a lie, the numbering goes: 1, 17, 23, 18, 9, 12, 21, 8, …
I reach the back without ever spotting a 28. I end up back at 8 sharing with a beardy like-minded-looking guy munching from a paper bag.
Four and a half hours to go, including a 30 minute change.

Snow!!!
It’s been a year and a half since I last saw it.
Being here for business rather than pleasure I wont get to play on it

Executive chef, Marcus Van Clute (from England! Near Nottingham), is nowhere to be found so I’m deposited in the bar until close to be shown to my quarters. Basically a small hostel-cum-chalet used solely for employees of the Mercure Grand.
Four bed dorm – just 10% of the floor visible and the universal stink of a disgusting bedroom.

A random cushion on the floor becomes my pillow replacement, which I suspect has been borrowed by the couple sharing the bottom half of the opposite bunk.

I don’t start work until 15:00 so a nice lie-in to look forward to.