Just can’t believe it’s over 20 years since I first set foot in Australia.
Ah, I remember it so well. After 26 hours in the air - I went the *long* way, over the Pacific - I landed in Sydney on what I'd come to know as a typical (read: stunning) morning in the Emerald City. Since all I had to do that day was stay awake until I caught up with my friend Brett in the evening, I remained conscious courtesy of visits to the botanical gardens, the aquarium and the Opera House, a picture of which you'll find above.
It was the next morning, however, when the glories of the Great Southern Land were really brought home to me. Waking up with the sun after a surprisingly decent night's sleep, the cackle of Kookaburras left me in no doubt that I was finally in Australia. A smile broke out across my great stupid face as I realised that everything had really come together.
At which point, something fell from the ceiling on to my face and began to crawl across my cheek.
Having heard all the horror stories about Australia's lethal, heart-stopping, bollock-devouring fauna, I naturally assumed that whatever fell on me was bound to end me if given reason to bite. So it was that I remained very, very still. For half-an-hour.
Eventually, my commitment to the long game paid dividends as the beast began to crawl away from the business end of my face. Then, instead of alighting on my pillow, it made a beeline for the nape of my neck.
With the end now clearly in sight, there was nothing else for it than to consult Brett about the nature of this most unwelcome visitor. But since he was in a room down the hall, I had to climb out of bed, across my room and down said hall, all of which I accomplished in a slow staccato manner that will be familiar to anyone who's ever scene stop-frame animation masters like Nick Park or Ray Harryhausen at work.
Upon finally making it to Brett's end of the building, this most affable Aussie wandered over, took one look at the creature and... proceeded to flick it from one side of my neck to the other!
It was enough to cause a man to yelp. At least it would have been had Brett - who'd clearly been a keen Subbuteo player in his youth - flicked my attacker again, this time to the floor. Now sprawled with its legs kicking in the air, finally I could identify my foe as... a common-or-garden cricket.
And that was just day one.