Hiyas.

Its has been a while since I last updated this. I was away on holidays and blah blah blah but I've uploaded my stuff to a wordpress account. It was easier to do this than remove everything off my laptop and reinstall a version of windows that was not Vista. For some reason, google and vista are not the best of friends and they are not keen on playing together. Gmail being the worst culprit. It is simply too slow for this high paced lifestyle that we lead (haha). I was also going to start something new, a site to showcase my own stuff but that will have to wait for the moment. But anyhows, there seems to be a few unofficial follows of the drivel I speak so whether you love me, hate me, care or not, you can find me here.... http://www.run-with-the-hunted.com/
Thanks.

Flight of the Conchords - Ladies of the World

The Joy Formidable - Whirring

Hello there, Old Friend

It's been a tough old week. Stuck down with a near fatal case of man-flu, I've been bound to the sofa, sweet tea and flu drinks like it is truly going out of fashion. It was just a common cold though. My friends and I were in the pub the other weekend and the barmaid lifted our glasses when we went out for a smoke. But we hadn't finished our drinks (she thought we'd left) so we got them back. Only, one of my friends had 'the cold' and I think the glasses got mixed up and I drank from his glass. Well, that's a fairly needless piece of information for you there but that's how it happened, I think. Know your enemy! I haven't left home in weeks now (weekends), apart from going to work and swimming some nights. Making an attempt at a healthy life style, this has given me some extra time to sort some stuff out in the flat. During the tidy up/throw shit out process I came across some of old photos taken of a journey we did in Australia back in 2001......Jeepers, ten years has passed very quickly!!!

Behold La Poderosa. Old faithful. The flowered one. That dangerous, mechanically challenged, unpredictable pile of shite. We had many names for our wheels but most of the time we just called her Daisy.

We bought this car, a hand painted 1980 Holden Commodore station wagon (3 litre) while we were living in Perth, Western Australia. We viewed many reasonably priced, reliable motors. Cars which were clean, solid and road worthy, even legal. But for some unknown reason we were always drawn back to Daisy as if it were destiny that we travel the lonely golden highways of Western Australia together in our air-conditioned-free, sweaty, torturous adventure. This car had a personality, it was alluring, it had character than the others were lacking.

Twelve hundred dollars to a surfer on Subiaco beach and we were now mobile. I have never laughed as hard in all my life as I did the time we bought this car. My friend Craig signed the relevant documentation on the bonnet of our new mode of transport and on handing it back to the guy he took with it a substantial amount of paintwork from the car. This was a sign of things to come. I had to crouch down behind the other side of the car as if I were inspecting something to try and hide my laughter. It was very funny but you probably had to be there. The three of us laughed all the way back to our apartment as we couldn’t believe we had actually bought this thing! But yee of little faith, she proved us all wrong (in her own special way).

We planned a trip from Perth to Darwin, some 4000 kilometers up the West Coast. This was a fair old drive by any standards. So the car had to be road worthy and reliable. To the 'Vehicle Testing Station' we went with our fingers crossed for what seemed like an unlikely clean bill of health. The mechanic in the garage soon confirmed this with the news that it was going to cost quite a lot of cash to bring our cherished automobile back to the point of 'road worthy'. So tossing caution to the wind, we didn’t bother with the repairs. After all, that money would buy us good things like booze, food, shelter and maybe some more booze. Bald tyres, dodgy brakes, these were mere technicalities in our adventure. We did get a few things repaired prior to its test but she was basically roaded from then on. We also exploited a loop hole in the Australian vehicle registration system (rego) which enabled our car to appear legal and legit and then we were on our way.

The car was actually very comfortable, like a busted up old couch that had seen the weight of a thousand arses in its lifetime. The seats had somehow become tailored to the human frame. Like slipping backwards into a bath of wet cement (I've never actually done that but it sounds cool) the fit was 'embracing' although I use that term loosely. I can't remember the mileage but I do remember it had done many a good mile however it still coasted along nicely at 80 mph for hours on end. The suspension was forgiving (in a straight line) and had possibly never been replaced. Windows wound down was our crude form of air con. The car was also equipped with some other mod con features which were unique to this particular model... Cruise control: this was a brink that you dumped on the accelerator. A surround sound stereo system:  a ghetto blaster that we had smashed up and jammed into our backpacks and keyless ignition: the ignition barrel was so worn you didn't even need the keys to start the car, you could just turn it with your fingers. But for all its faults, the car held strong requiring minimal repairs to keep us moving forward.

Daisy did chew up quite a few tyres but this was mainly down to us taking her on some stretches of road which were specifically made for 4x4’s. We would travel along at about ten to fifteen miles an hour with every possible piece of the dashboard that wasn't screwed in place; fall out of its slot with the vibration. The floor was soon littered with car parts and we would occasionally look at each other with a sense of  'I'm waiting for the engine to fall out'. These shortcut excursions took time as the roads were quite long and we travelled very slowly through them. I'm amazed it actually stood up to that level of abuse. Good on ya Daisy!

She could be temperamental and on occasion refuse to start. This inconvenience usually arose when we were in the remotest of locations. The procedure for a breakdown was for everyone to get out of the car, close the doors, wait a few minutes then get back in and hooray! She started every time. Some days you could drive for six to eight hours and pass maybe ten other cars. The gas stations were spread about three hundred and fifty kilometres (a full tank of fuel) apart with nothing in between other than the desert and thoughts of not being in the car, maybe in a hot tub with a pint or something of that nature.

Due to the length of time we were driving (some days up to eight hours) the car would also overheat. Sometimes we would push Daisy quite hard if it was starting to get dark and we had a large distance to cover. The Australian wildlife became a major hazard when the sun would set. When overheating occurred you were trapped in a battle of equilibrium. The temperature needle has crept into the red....  Stopping the car could result in a catastrophic failure of the cooling system. Without the flow of air through the radiator it will continue to overheat, accelerating to the point of destruction. Major engine damage is not a good thing when you are hundreds of miles from help. And driving too fast would result in the same problem. So for short periods of driving, it was tense as everyone kept an eye on the temperature needle and the speedo, willing the engine temperature to drop into the 'safe zone'. You are actually advised to stop the car completely but this advice we chose to ignore.

Some of the local wildlife unfortunately met their demise over the bonnet and under the wheels of our car. The roads were long and straight, littered with dead animals, mainly Kangaroos. At night the kangaroos would actually see the car lights in the distance and they would hop onto the road waiting for you to arrive! And they were big fellas. You could see them from miles away as at the sides of the road there was nothing but flat desert, miles and miles of orange/yellow desert. We did hit one of these oversized bunnies. It was a big one, probably of similar weight to your average man. And we hit it fast. It hopped onto the road at the very last minute and instead of running out of the way it decided to try and outrun the car (a brave move). We were going too fast to stop. I was in the passenger seat and we couldn't brake in time. It was loud and it felt horrible. The kangaroo must have been dead on impact (hopefully). Luckily it went under the car as appose to over the bonnet and through the windscreen. The smell was also really bad, a piece of it must have been caught in the exhaust so something. The car was equipped with 'roo bars' and if it hadn't been for these, I'm sure we would have been in a bit of a pickle. As heavy duty as they were they still managed bend slightly with the impact.

We also hit (Craig did) a large Echidna, it's an Australian porcupine. It was pretty big and the quills are thick and hollow. They punctured the front tyre instantly. And I think the back tyre on the same side needed changing later. We also ran over a sizable snake, this was at night. It was like going over a speed bump at speed, equal height on both sides. Poor bugger. And several million insects (these do count, the have feelings too). And last but by no means least, a bird (not a female). Oh, we also had a pet mouse in the boot of the car but we could never catch it. I think he was looking after the bags.

Our air freshener was a thing of beauty. You can see it above. The pretty lady was wearing a bikini. But the bikini would turn invisible when it got hot. And as we were travelling through the desert, it was always bloody hot so she was permanently naked. Yay! When we sold the car I scooped the air freshener as a wee memento. I still have it. And went I look at it it congers up all these fond memories.

The journey took just under a month. Our only deadline was dropping one of our friends off in Broom so he could fly back to Perth then home. If we stopped in a place we liked we’d simply stay a little while longer. It was nice and relaxed. We done a dive in Exmouth which was brilliant. Nigaloo reef is regarded as one of the best dive sites in Australia. The water wasn't that warm but still very comfortable and the visibility was super clear. I was about two feet away from a scorpion fish off the pier, which was ace! I love them (not to eat, they are poisonous). It's also a popular spot for Whale Sharks. And we camped in some amazing places along the way and although the car looked completely out of place in a beautiful modern city like Perth, it was in its element on the roads and campsites of Western Australia/Northern Territories. I loved looking at the sky at night as it was so clear. You could see all the stars. Amazing to see!

I suppose we experienced our fair share of rough hostels, camp sites and bars during this journey but we also sampled some amazing ones. But I feel that the bad also adds 'good' to the experience. As long as you are safe and well, is anything really that taxing during a journey like this? Beautiful beaches and scenery, great memories with great friends. Great laughs and great experiences. I'd love to do it all over again. We also met some really cool people along the way. Picking up the odd person who was travelling alone. A break from the norm as it were. Enjoying their company for a few days and bringing something new to the group, it was always refreshing. Strangely we drove through some of the most spectacular scenery ever and it started to just seem normal. These days I would be taking so much more photos as every part of the trip was worth saving.

We made it to Darwin in the end and we all stayed there for a bit. Quite a few nights out were had in celebration of our magnificent journey. Our car had gone full circle by now as we eventually sold it back to the guy who had originally (or certainly at some point) owned it. A hippy hostel owner situated quite close to Mindil beach. By now, Old Faithful was requiring some major TLC and as she was barely running, he had the ball in his court. A good deal was to be had on a beautiful, loyal car. Daisy was gone but not forgotten. My friends left Darwin after about a month. I stayed for another month, relaxing during the day, reading books, enjoying the weather and enjoying some food and the nightlife in the evening. There were a few other 'long service' residents in the hostel and even in my dorm room so there was always people to go out with and tare up the night. These were also great times but our adventure in our car was something special and it wouldn't have been the same if it had not been for our old friend that we initially held so little faith in, Daisy. And in the wise old words of a deceased young adventurer, Dan Eldon; 'The journey is the destination'. I couldn't agree more.

Nouvelle Vague - Sweet And Tender Hooligan

The only one who could ever teach me - was the son of a butcher man

Tiny Vipers - On This Side

Catching The Butterfly

It was a year ago last Sunday that my ex girlfriend, Emma, died. She was only 29 years old. And a few weeks shy of her 30th birthday.

I was sitting in work on the Monday morning, running through my emails when my friend Jamie called with the news. On this enlightenment, I thought it wise to leave work then. Although I had only seen Emma briefly in the last few years, I still thought of her often, wondering how she was getting on and only two days before this, I was talking about her with one of my good friends as we enjoyed a few beers, blissfully unaware she would be taking her last breath and exiting planet dust in a matter of hours. It came as a massive shock to be honest, like a deep void had suddenly been created in my life and I really didn’t expect that. I suppose you are not in control of these things. So as I went into partial meltdown for the week, my fiancée patiently waited for me to resurface on the other side.

This is a sad story from start to finish. A hard battle that she often faced alone. Sadly, Emma had been struggling badly with depression and had recently been diagnosed as bi-polar, which would explain a few things. With some questionable life choices in the mixer, the outcome didn't look overly optimistic. There is a lot that I could write with regards to this but I won't. I shall save us all from my badly conscripted tale of these events, for her sake at least. I just didn't want the occasion to pass without being noted.

They say you learn something new from everyone you meet. I believe this is also true of people you simply pass in the street, acknowledging each others existence with only a smile. But from Emma, I'm not sure what I learned. A total melting pot but much more than I first realised. First love and heartbreak. Life and friendship would also be true. Maybe it's that you have to enjoy what you have at the time, as your time is short. You are here and then you are gone. And where after that, we do not know. We should just be good to each other. She will be sadly missed but hopefully now, she is in a better place.

The girl with no name

She has no name but a pretty face? An emulsion soul and a heart of grace?

Hungover and tired, Sunday was indeed a day of 'productive rest'. I was going to be spraying up some stencils outside as it was nice and warm but the back garden (that is shared) had some of the neighbours clothes hanging out to dry and no doubt, they were going to end up being covered in overspray, which would have been a bit of an inconvenience for them I'd imagine.

So undeterred, I painted in the living room instead, exchanging spray paint for wall emulsion. I have a few small (some may say extensive) decorating jobs to finish in our flat and one of these was putting the final coat of paint on the bathroom roof. In the process of digging out all my tools and brushes, I found some old paint samples that we had laying about. You know the story, the colour looks great on the tin but once you get it home, pop it on the walls, it turns into something completely different. I'd cut this stencil a while ago and it was one piece that was going to be incorporated into another but I was just glad to be painting something (other than the bathroom roof) to be honest.

It turned out alright but it's fairly rough in comparison to using cans and it takes ten times longer to do. The paper also starts to curl up and peak when the paint goes on making it a little harder to work with. I might add some more to this or it might just be best to set her free and paste her up somewhere around town. Fly my little one, fly!

Hello there, Bollard