Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Here Comes The Sun...Maybe


The sound of a million raindrops on the tin roof woke me up and for a moment I forgot I was in Australia. After all, it was Good Friday and surely it only rains on Bank Holidays in England?

Apparently not. After weeks of glorious sunshine, winter made it’s first appearance and wiped the sun tanned smile off the face of the city. But this rain came as something of a surprise as it totally escaped the attention of our weather forecasters who were happily predicting lovely sunshine followed by even more sunshine.

Forget the rain though, you could sneak a troupe of dancing elephants and a brass band under the radar of the forecasters here. Jeez I hope we don’t get a hurricane here, they’ll never see it coming.

The term forecasting is management speak for educated guesswork and in true Aussie style, simple and blunt, they take the educated out of it. Then they hand the job to a series of out of work clairvoyants and palm readers who take turns being weather person for the day.

The result of this is the same forecast every day, ‘fine’ and a guess at the temperature which bears more resemblance to the number on the lottery bonus ball than what’s happening outside.

I know this sort of inaccuracy is nothing new and that it’s not always spot on in England, but these failed mystics are seen as a nightly comedy show which nobody believes, in fact they are so widely ridiculed that you wonder why they bother wasting the air time. Easter Monday was going to be ‘fine’, as it happened the rain woke me up at 4am and was still teeming down at bedtime.


Meanwhile, the footy season continues and the local team, Norwood, show signs of being a frustrating bunch of hunks. After a winning start to the season, the mighty Redlegs have since scraped a win in a game they should have had wrapped up by half time and then threw it away this weekend, losing dramatically to the last kick of the game after leading by a long street. It’s just like watching City.

But the results are neither here nor there, watching the game is one very sociable way to spend a Saturday afternoon. All the grounds have a barbecue going and a fridge full of beer. So, we join a couple of thousand oddballs, standing on a grassy knoll, swigging beer, groaning and hurling abuse as the Redlegs throw away another huge lead.


And so far, nobody seems to have noticed we haven’t got a clue about the rules. It’s like crashing a trainspotters convention.


To take the edge off the growing tension at the footy, we took a trip to the Barossa Valley to try some wines out. It’s only an hour’s drive north of the city and is truly beautiful, row after row of vines nestled in the nooks of rolling green hills, all making the finest wine region in Australia.

For you trivia types, it is also the home of Jacobs Creek, which really is a little stream named after William Jacob who built a house next to it in 1839 after deciding it was a decent spot to farm. While the little cottage is still there, so is the slick HQ of the Jacobs Creek empire, a little out of place amongst it’s more modest competition.

We didn’t stop there though, what’s the point? Their wine is no stranger.

We did, however, stop at several other places and put away a fair bit of their finest. All jolly nice and a thoroughly recommended day out.

However, after years of fooling myself and trying to fool others, I have to finally admit that I can’t tell the difference between one cabernet sauvignon and another. Or a merlot and a shiraz.

I’m pretty confident on distinguishing a red from a white though. The white is cold, right?

As for local news, Adelaide finally hits the big time this week when our very own IKEA opens. Everyone is very excited, with the understandable exception of the city’s current furniture shops who are in a state of collective panic. Every break on Home and Away advertises a new sale.

And as for me, I managed to catch supper on Sunday. I don’t think much of gutting, cleaning and filleting the poor little things, but they sure tasted good. And spending the day standing in the surf on a hot day pulling your dinner out of the sea takes some beating.

Hope it’s all going well.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Mandy!!!!..... Watch out.... there's a big bloody bird behind you