The Belgium Grand Prix

Belgium, home of beer, Herge (the creator of Tintin), and moules frites. Surely, you think there should be more, but as a colleague of mine who lived in Brussels for 4 years said, it is a hole, but I'm sure that was just a comment on Brussels, not Belugim on the whole.

Having always wanted to get to a Grand Prix at some stage, and knowing my friend Zac (the Zac) to be a huge F1 fan as well, we decided to travel somewhere to see a GP. For a variety of long forgotten reasons Belgium was chosen and Scott joined to make the team a trio for the trek to Spa-Francochamps.

We took the Eurostar across to Brussels - it is the way to go if it serves your destination rather than flying. Scott started how he meant to continue and had a kip on board. Friday night was the Belgium Beer Festival in the main square. We partook in a number of different beers, including a Chimay Brunne and a Tremens (supposedly the best beer in the world). However an early start was required the next morning so we turned in just after midnight.

Early start with a 7.30am bus to the track, Scott and Zac caught up on some sleep. We caught the tail end of the Porsche Super Cup, and then our first taste of the power and noise of the F1 cars for the final practice. The noise was incredible, so much so that my ears were still sore on the Monday after the Grand Prix, despite the ear plugs. Our seats were pretty good, we could see the exit from the first corner, all the way through some S-bends (taken flat out) and up the hill. The speed of the cars is amazing as in the distance of about 800m they go from near 50km/h to around 300 km/h. Just incredible.

In between F1 practice and qualifying, we went and looked around the F1 paddock, with heaps of merchandising and competitions going on. A lot of the teams had some of their last year's cars displayed which was nice to see. We then went for a walk through the middle of the track and ended up in the General Admission area. As it was mainly perched on the side of a hill, when the rain started we were glad to be in a covered stand. With some time up our sleeves we continued up the hill to walk all the way round the track. It was a long way but really interesting to see all the different groups of fans and nationalities (our stand was mainly Ferrari fans with some McLaren's). Saw a camping site and it looked like a pretty rough experience, but fun at the same time.

Got back in time for qualifying and then caught the bus back to town. Sat night in Brussels was pretty average, with not much going on.

Sunday

An even earlier start for the main event, so more sleeping on the bus. Weather was variable with rain in the air. Plenty of frites consumed as the temperature was cold.

The race itself was very exciting, with the wet track creating plenty of fun, and it bucketed down in the last 5 laps, causing carnage and controversy. Lewis Hamilton won on the day, but was later demoted due to a dodgy passing manevoure.

At the chequered flag, we rushed down onto the track and ran around the hairpin and up the home straight in time to see the victory ceremony and all the crashed cars being towed back from their resting places. Super atmosphere on pit straight.

The bus back to town was really slow, taking twice as long as the previous day! That night we went out and had a great tasting tray of beers. But atmosphere was lacking a little late on a Sunday night in Brussels.

Monday
With the morning and early afternoon free, we did a bit of sightseeing and eating of waffles. Then back on the Eurostar to London. Overall a great experience, but next time I think that another F1 track/country might be in order!

Into the Lions Den

A Saturday afternoon was free after Louise had decided to go wedding dress shopping with Helen. At a bit of a loss with what to do, I decided to try to go see a football match. I focussed on the 'best available' game. So that ruled out the Premier League games at Arsenal and West Ham as they were sold out, all the Championship London teams were playing away. That brought Millwall of League One (the old Division 3) into pole position. Millwall was only about 40 mins train/tube/train from home, which made it reasonably convenient. I managed to convince Zac that it would be a good idea to come along. We met up at Waterloo and off we went into Bermondsey to the 'New Den' to see Millwall versus Huddersfield.

Despite the game being a way off the standards of the Premier League, the crowd attendance was 7,500. The away team brought some fans, maybe 3-500, and they were totally segregated with one stand to themselves, and all in the central area, however they managed to escape out of their central area to antagonise the Millwall supporters in the next door stand later in the game. However no real concerns as the sets of fans were just yelling at each other. The most interesting aspect of the day was the family that sat behind us. The main protagonist was Dad, a very rotund fella, who came out with the memorable call to the referee after a foul was given against Millwall - I hope your wife dies of AIDS, you c*. Of course his sub 10 year old son is getting involved gesturing and copying the words of Dad. As Zac put it, the poor child didn't stand a chance, the day he was born he was stuffed. Of course there were plenty of similar characters, with a good level of commitment to the cause, demonstrated by the Millwall FC club crest tattooed on their bodies.

For the match itself, it was a good game, helped by the hot and sunny weather. My first impression was that I probably could manage a side in the grade, as the predominant tactics seemed to be - lump it forward to the big striker. After the game settled down, the ball was played along the deck and it flowed quite well. Millwall went behind to a wonderful overhead bicycle kick. A great goal, but I didn't support it as much as I would have liked. A quiet comment to Zac - that was a good goal, was all that I could manage. Millwall then equalised just before halftime, scored by a player that we were describing as useless and unmotivated, a sentiment that was shared by the crowd we noticed. Mind you, if you score the you are everyone's best friend, at least for the next 15 minutes, as this fellow discovered later.

Millwall dominated the second half, and scored a go-ahead goal with about 15 to go, a well worked move. By this stage the Millwall fans were well worked up, and were charging through the stand to gesture and chant rude words at the away team supporters. Then controversy, with 5 minutes to go a very dubious penalty was awarded to Huddersfield, I thought the foul was well outside the box. Up steps David Unsworth, former England defender, and the goalkeeper pulls off a great save. Now the crowd goes truly mental. Some great chants - you're s t and it’s a long way home, 1-0 and you f'ed it up. Lots of Millwall etcetc. Pretty entertaining stuff.

Overall the game was pretty good, I was impressed by the central defenders for both sides as they dealt with the frequent attacks of the aerial game very well, and the attacking skills on the quick break were equally impressive.

One goal of mine, when I came over, was to try and get to each of the London clubs that play in the football leagues home games. So one down, 13 to go. The list remaining is Arsenal, Chelsea, Fulham, Tottenham, West Ham, Charlton, Crystal Palace, Queens Park Rangers, Watford, Leyton Orient, Barnet, Brentford, Dagenham & Redbridge. Of course these won't be the only football games I get to!

August bank holiday - Brighton and Windsor

We had a long weekend at the end of August and decided to stay in London and do a couple of day trips. On Saturday we went to Brighton and had a lovely sunny day there enjoying fish and chips (with mushy peas of course) and ice cream on the beach, spending far too much loose change on the amusements, and wandering the many great shops and cafes.

Brighton Pier - home of the 2p entertainment.

Brighton Beach - sunny, full of people promenading.

The classic - cod and chips, and mushy peas.

Royal Pavilion

The highlight was visiting the Royal Pavilion, a palace built by King George IV. It’s decorated on the outside in an Indian style and the inside has been kept, or redecorated, as it was when he lived there in the 16th century, in amazingly rich Chinese style. Unfortunately we couldn’t take any photos inside but we were amazed at the huge chandeliers suspended from dragon’s mouths and at the ornate and colourful decoration throughout. Definitely worth the trip.




The other day trip we did was to Windsor and Eton. Windsor Castle was a great way to spend a drizzly day. Wonderful to be able to visit a castle that’s still lived in by Liz and Phil. We enjoyed an old fashioned pub lunch when the sun came out, then went to Eton college and enjoyed a tour there.

Here we are in front of the castle.

Dean couldn't wait to get into his Sunday roast, and he wasn't expecting the photo!

Finally, Lou gets to be a Princess.

We are really pleased to be living in Clapham Junction which has so many great train connections just down the road to us, makes day tripping super easy!
Now planning our weekends away in Belgium (Dean for the grand prix) and Copenhagen (Lou with her sister) in a couple of weeks, then a very busy travel-packed October with both the Yarrall and von D parents over this side of the world. We’ll need a break after that!

That said if anyone wants a place to stay in the UK, our place has now got a very comfy air bed for use of guests, as well as running hot and cold water.

Paris

Just got back from a wonderful weekend in Paris to celebrate Lou’s 28th birthday.

We got the Eurostar there on Friday night and were really pleased with our hotel which was nice and close to the train station and very modern and clean (although after Malta anything would have been a palace).

Saturday morning we had an amazing breakfast in the Latin Quarter (left bank) of croissants, pain au raisin and pain au chocolat plus café crème – can’t believe how yummy it was and why no other country in the world can do it like the French.

From there we visited Notre-Dame and when we came back outside it was pouring with rain so we decided not to queue to go upstairs and save that for another day. We wandered down to the Lourve, not intending to go in this visit but save it for next time however the weather and the fact there was no queue meant we went right in.

Decided to stick to the 19th century French and Italian painters section with Lou boring the heck out of Dean with what she could remember from art history ten years ago. After a couple of hours seeing those (and Dean triggering a warning alarm by trying to point right at a painting) we braved the crowds to visit the Mona Lisa (what’s all the fuss? I felt sorry for all the other paintings that don’t get a look in), and similarly crowds at the Venus de Milo. To the right is a photo of people taking a photo of the Venus de Milo.

After the Lourve we wandered through the lovely gardens to the Place de la Concorde and up the Champs Elysee to the Arc de Triomphe.

From there we went back to the hotel for a cuppa and a change of clothes before heading back into town for a lovely meal including escargot (had better in Wellington to be honest), soup l’ognion, duck and plenty of wine.

After dinner we joined the queue for the Eiffel Tower. It took over an hour to get tickets and then another half hour or so in the queue from the second to third floor but being night time we were entertained every hour by a lights show – pretty much thousands of fairy lights twinkling, very pretty.

By the time we got to the bottom again, it was Lou's birthday, so Dean gave Happy Birthday a valiant attempt in French.

Sunday was Lou’s birthday so we had a wee sleep in before heading to Montremartre which we really enjoyed. Visited the Sacre Couer including the 300+ steps to the top for the view, made a picnic lunch out of baguette, fromage and pate, enjoyed a giant glass of Bourdeaux and generally wandered around soaking up the atmosphere of the many artists around.

Went to see the outside of the Moulin Rouge and Lou was a bit surprised at how small it was compared to the movie!

Another visit into town to see the Trocadero (Dean had fun memories of skating on the iced over fountain when there over ten years ago with his family) and Champ de Mars (with a wee nap on the grass, Lou’s getting tired now she’s old) then on the Eurostar back home.

All in all a lovely weekend, saw plenty and also relaxed and enjoyed our time. We will definitely be back as plenty more to see. Very pleased at how good Dean’s French was, especially as he (predictably) hadn’t brushed up. Lou’s wasn’t too shabby either so we managed pretty well.

Looking forward to practicing it again when we head to the south of France with Lou’s parents later this year. Au Reviour!

Malta

We just got back from a lovely relaxing and hot (35 degrees +!) week in Malta. For our first European summer trip it was great, and the Med’s a million times warmer than the Pacific!

We spent most days exploring different areas of the country (it’s only 30kms long) and most evenings poolside. We managed not to turn lobster-red like the poms but stuck to our wise NZ roots and slipped, slopped and slapped.

Highlights

St John’s Co-Cathedral, Valletta

The home of the Knights of St John, this is an amazing display of wealth and devotion. Despite being plundered by Napoleon in 1798, it retains much splendor. The floor is totally covered in marble tablets celebrating the lives of famous Knights interred below. Each of the main chapters of the Knights were allocated a chapel to the side of the main hall, and they competed with each other to make their chapel the best. It resulted in some pretty amazing artwork and sculptures.
On reflection, we figured that this was probably in our top two churches worldwide after St Peter’s in Rome.

Boat trip to islands of Gozo and Comino

We spent a lovely day on board a boat which took us north to the islands of Gozo and Comino. Great crew and an amazing lunch. Had a few swims including one in an amazing blue water bay where a number of movie scenes have been filmed, including some from Troy.

Hypogeum

The Hypogeum, on UNESCO’s World Heritage list, is a series of halls, chambers and passages cut out of rock underground. It dates back to 3600 BC and was used as a burial chamber. Because it’s protected only 80 people a day can attend so you have to book in advance. We just paid double the price though for a “special ticket” – well worth it.

Food/Drink
The snack food of the Maltese was a small fried pastry containing either a pea or ricotta filling. It was so good that it became our breakfast of choice, 7 days in a row.

The national beer of Malta, Cisk, became a favourite and was ridiculously cheap at about 1.20 Euro average per bottle. Great for quenching your thirst on those hot days.

Transport

The bus system, while comprising of old-school orange and yellow painted English buses, was a reliable and cheap way of getting round. The bus drivers were always helpful in answering our questions about which way to go. One bus driver was particularly adept at simultaneously smoking, putting on his shirt, and going round a corner at high speed.

Lowerlights

Our hotel was terrible but cheap, and luckily we didn’t spend much time indoors. Things ranged from our inland view room being in fact an internal room (ie no natural light), sheets stained yellow and towels ranging from threadbare with holes one day to lush the next. That didn’t matter though as it had a pretty decent sized pool and bar, and the location was great. We got pretty annoyed at the number of people who clearly left towels on loungers by the pool all day long though, but think we’d best get used to that (and we did nick someone’s newspaper one day after they hadn’t made an appearance for two hours).

The Constabulary

June has seen two encounters with the Metropolitan Police, the guardians of law and order in greater London.

The first episode was on a Saturday night, or more properly Sunday morning. Having had a little bit of a late one, Lou had just gone to bed, and I was thinking of turning in at about 2am. Just getting to bed, and we were woken to the sounds of a phalanx of rowdy people storming the stairs to one of the upstairs flats, accompanied by some well-meaning girls yelling – shh shh. They get in and decide to turn on the bass, it was reasonably loud to be fair. This continued until about 4.15, when some random neighbour from around the way managed to raise the party on the intercom (which is located just outside our bedroom so we hear everything). The jist of it was the neighbour was incensed, and thought that the noise was far too loud, it happens too frequently (not a great sign), and that they had woken his entire family. The party responded by saying ‘it’s a Saturday night mate’, only a valid linguistic form if you are an Australian (these guys a rich English lads).

Nicely enough, they did go turn the music down, from over loud to just loud for the sizeable period of what felt like 5 minutes. No sleep was had, and Lou tried to call the council, but to no avail as the noise control officers stop work at 3am. We tried to use the intercom to get in touch with them and were not heard/ignored.

However, the cavalry arrived at 5.30am with the police trying to access the building. Lou kindly let them in, as she had arisen to go for a walk. In charge the police, and first politely try and bang on the door with their truncheon announcing that it was da police. Again, the party can’t hear them and thus the police are up for a bit of action so call for the enforcers (the battering ram people). Looking back now I think that the party realised the police had arrived and were hastily disposing of or consuming whatever drugs they had left. Anyway, the party do finally let in the police, just before the enforcers turn up. A stern talking to is given to the resident (who firstly denies being a resident, then sheepishly admit it when the police demand whoever is in charge to come out), and then out trot 12 young cool and hip people to the now quiet residential street. We were impressed by the level of response, 3 police cars with 6 officers, following up on what was apparently quite a few complaints.

Post script to this was a very sheepish young toff coming down and apologising the next day, Mr somebody somebody Esq. Good on him for showing the balls to apologise.

The next incident happened on a Wednesday night following a game of netball in Shepherd’s Bush. Lou and I were waiting at the bus stop – I hear an Oi!, I look round and there are 2 beeps on a horn and some guy has run onto the road and is hit by a small car, just avoiding a cyclist. London hasn't yet rubbed off to the extent that I don't care about anyone other than myself so I figured as I was a witness I needed to stick around.

The poor driver is quite upset, so have a quick chat to her. However the guy has disappeared around the corner. He is sitting down on the ground, and says he is ‘solid’ in an Irish accent. Being skinny, he is meaning he is fine, and he wants to go to the pub to meet his mates. ‘Let's walk to them’ I suggest, suspecting a tiny bit of bravado. He manages 2 steps before needing to stop, with that I try and support him, but he is having none of that and falls to the ground. So I prop him up, send some random girl to find his mates, and call an ambulance, with a side of police.

His mates turn up, and are very keen to move him away, saying he doesn’t need an ambulance. Taking quite a strong line with them was required, as there was no way he was moving anywhere, and being big lads it was a little confrontational. From my basic bit of medical knowledge I reckoned he had either a bruised or broken thigh. Finally convinced the boys that they need to let the professionals handle it.

So the police turn up first, and take statements from everyone, I was impressed by their handle on things, and their easy manner with all parties. Ambulance arrives less than 5 minutes after my call, and start looking at the victim. He is still professing that he is ‘solid’ and so the ambulance officer jokes and says ‘well I’ll be off then’. But the poor victim is in a bit of pain so gets the good stuff, some nitrous oxide, or laughing gas, which I had when I got KO’d and broke my thumb at Aussie Rules. It is pretty good at numbing the pain. So the dude is safely in the ambulance and Lou and I go head home. Made for a late night.

Wembley

Before we arrived on English shores, my club, West Bromwich Albion had made the FA Cup semi-finals. So this created a bit of excitement in the Yarrall family ranks, as Dad is a long term shareholder in the club, having been convinced to buy into the initial float in the early 90’s whilst on a boat following a long day in the sun after an England-South Africa cricket test.

Given that this was likely to be a once in a lifetime chance to see WBA in a FA Cup semi final at Wembley, a foreign concept to supporters of the likes of Arsenal, Manchester United et al, we thought it would be a worthwhile introduction for Louise into the football experience in the UK.

During many of the first calls home, Dad was always wondering how ticket purchasing was going. Poor was my inevitable response as the only way you could get a ticket was to have proof of having been on the club’s ticket database in the last 10 years. Given the last time we had been to a WBA game was in 1997, before the ticketing database was established meant we failed to reach the minimum requirements for a ‘club’ ticket. With all the other tickets held by corporates and season ticket holders, there were no official tickets available.

This meant we would have to follow the more risky ticket option of turning up to the game and buying off some dodge reseller. As Lou’s brother put it, the good thing about England is that you can turn up to any game and there is bound to be someone trying to make a buck from their ticket. Knowing our chances of getting a ticket were OK, Lou and I set off to Wembley.

The actual ticket purchasing options were fine once we got there, as a company was trying to flog off their tickets as no-one had wanted to go! I managed to pay the reasonable sum of £100 per ticket (face value of £160), not bad, but certainly a shock as we were still converting to NZD ($250 to those who care). Tickets were seated in the club level, and came with a free programme, which was a nice touch. Actually ended up sitting next to the brother in law of the WBA director of football who was a pleasant chap to talk to. We were situated behind the Portsmouth fans, which was a little disappointing, but they provided excellent vocal support for their team.

The pre-game atmosphere dominated anything Kelburn Park could produce, with 80,000 fans milling around, performing various witty chants. There was not a great deal of aggro going on, probably due to the great numbers of fluoro vested police officers.

As far as the game went, WBA dominated the first half, but failed to get close enough to seriously pressure the Portsmouth goal. Having not got the breakthrough I figured that we were going to struggle in the second half and sure enough we conceded soon after half time and spent the rest of the fixture chasing the game. However a number of positives did arise, firstly as Louise so quaintly put it, as least we wont have to pay for a FA Cup Final ticket, and secondly, WBA played well enough to suggest that they will be able to battle respectfully next season in the Premiership and not face the ignominy of another Derby County style season.

All in all, a great introduction into the world of English football for Louise, and hopefully we will be able to get to a few more games when the new season starts.