The Obligatory Perth Stint

Several months months since my last post and it's been an interesting journey. I wrapped up the season in Jindabyne early to head home.

Being back in Perth is a wierd experience. Living in Fremantle makes things a little different and the vast majority of people are have moved on to some extent. Wives, children, fiances, demanding jobs and a variety of other responsibilites mean than only a handful of my friends are available to catch up. Possibly for the best: reasons not to drink so much are welcome. All in all it was a very healthy experience with a good diet, plenty of time in the gym and a fair bit of constructive behavior.

I got myself a nice new skateboard (after my mother inadvertantly gave one of my second cousins my old deck) and put a bit of effort into getting some skills with mixed results and a couple of nice little falls. I might try to stick to snowboarding but I will be getting on the skateboard again in the future.

After a little bit of apprehension about getting work in Sweden the news finally came in that I am going back. Very excited. Flights are all booked and I start work in the second week of December.

Back in Perth

Aside from a short visit here and there, the last time I spent more than 2 weeks at a time back home in Perth was early 2006. It's now been a full month and I have had a pretty good time funnily enough. Skating, Surfing (trying to), going for walks, training, lots of lounging... It's been a good holiday from holidaying. I am staying here in Fremantle with my mamma and wonderful girlfriend Jenny. Finding suitable work proved a little more difficult than I expected but after lots of interviews and several job offers that after consideration I turned down... I am starting at Vodafone Booragoon tomorrow morning. It feels good. As long as I have little idea of what I'm in for then I am excited about starting a new job as the learning process distracts me from the mundane and the boring that comes with time.

I've not been since I was about 12 years old and all I cared about was how many showbags I took home with me.. but as Jenny has never been to Australia and they don't really have anything like it back in Sweden today we're off to the Royal Show. I figure the line between kitsch and tacky is very fine and I will try to walk on the right side of it. Lots of rollercoasters and junk food awaits. To offset our indulgences later in the day we have just squeezed in an intense gym session to lessen the guilt of such unnecessary carnage. I am curious to see if the rides are as intense and scary as I remember them. I am betting on not at all but we'll see. Jenny is stoked. I made the mistake of putting the "here we go here we go here we go" song in her head. I am paying for that for the rest of the day.

Jindabyne Take Two

What a season! It's had its ups and downs but there have been few ups and many downs all in all. I have been keeping my eyes on the end of the tunnel and getting by on a day to day basis.

Awesome start early and then nothing for months- until early August Perisher officially recorded its worst snowfall in history. Things were looking grim. Without snow we have no guests, and with no guests we have no lessons.

Australians in particular were feeling the squeeze. The 63cm dump we had in early August could not have come any sooner. Travis, Eamon and I had a powder day that would rival places in Canada. Decent sized drops into deep powder, what had been a death-trap of rocks and tree stumps the day before was now a pillowy wonderland.

I had been riding the same boots for close to 6 full seasons and they were showing their age. Massive splits down the sides that could no longer be contained by tarzan grip. As much as I loved my Timbas, it was time to upgrade. These boots cost $539 in Australia but after som painstaking searching and messing about with shipping restrictions I managed to find them in the US for $98. Much stiffer than my old boots; my neon-yellow TM-Twos, while still a little painful, are treating me very well in terms of responsiveness.

Unfortunately no matter how good my new boots are or how many strange magnet balance bracelets I wear: I´m still pretty sub-par in the park. Lack of time and courage has meant that I am only taking baby steps forward: luckily the occasional reminder that I am unco hasn´t left me too badly injured yet. Best stack of the season? Coming off the up-down rail in front valley at its apex and landing (thankfully on the snow) flat on my back. Just a few more days to go...

I Survived a 16-day Bender in Thailand and all I Got Were These Lousy T-Shirts

Thailand trip number 3 survived. It was a wild one. My jetlag and lack of sleep from my London, Sweden and Perth trips which precluded this one carried over and more than 2 hours at a time was laughable at this point. On the plus side I got to see many, many beautiful sunrises.

We started our trip with a painful attempt to get some sleep at the airport in Bangkok while waiting for our flight down to Samui. I swear someone must have designed these benches to prevent people sleeping on them. It was not a pleasant experience. PK and I tossed and turned for a few hours before finally checking in and getting on our way down to the islands.

I had had my fill of Samui on previous trips but PK was keen to see what the seediness had to offer before we went to the real fun at Phangan. Monsoon rains and massive power outages did nothing to detract from the awesome night out we had. The three of us (we were hanging out with an English girl we flew down with) were sprinting from pool bar to bucket shop and back for more drinks at the beach and loved every minute of it. 4 or 5 hours later we dragged our groggy selves out of bed in time for the 12pm pickup to the ferry. I say 'we' but unfortunately Becky didn't make it; she had found someone the night before that kept her from enjoying the few hours of sleep that PK and I had the luxury of having.

Arriving at Phangan it was a bit of marching around in the ridiculous heat and humidity looking for somewhere to stay (shortly before Full Moon is not the best time to have not made a booking) and then straight down to the beach. That is one of the things I love most about Phangan; the beach is so social; you just sort of wade around chatting to people from all over the world. We got talking to a couple of guys from Denmark (Christ and Peter) and that set the tone for the rest of our trip. Night after night we hit the Same Same bar which is run by Danes and absolutely full of the crazy bastards. Loved it. Night after night was a new event.

Night one was the body painting competition. I went for the more low-key approach which didn't go down too well. My Swedish flag got a lot more negative attention than one might expect. Danish Peter however, in a moment of Sangsom-inspired genius, ran upstairs with a couple of jars of paint and returned with the prize winning design; "Why so serious?" This however, was only the beginning of our run of luck.

The next right was quiz night. The two Danes and two Aussies formed team Aussie Rules - named so after we explained our version of football to the boys. The questions were not easy ones to say the least. How many people can name the capitals of Slovakia and The Democratic Republic of Congo? What was the score in the 1936 world cup and who won? Who played Davey Jones in Pirates of the Carribean? Even though we left 5 of 20 questions blank and were pretty damn unsure about a few others but some miracle we actually won! In total shock we screamed in unison "AUSSIE RULES!" as we marched up to the stage to collect our prize; a massive DIY bucket kit. From there the party had moved upstairs but we were determined to stay put until our prize was consumed. I have to admit we recruited the help of some nearby Swedes out of pure necessity.

From there we moved up to the sky bar to join the others where a game of Tombola was going around. The game is pretty simple. First you decide who is playing and what you're going to drink. The guy who runs the game works at the bar and he plays too. There is a bucket full of little rolled up raffle tickets with the numbers 1-200 written on them of all different colours. The person who goes first picks the colour and everyone who follows picks the same colour. The person who pulls the highest number has to buy everyone in the round the drink previous decided upon except for 200- if that number is pulled then the bar buys everyone double drinks. Understandably this is pretty rare. We all pulled out numbers and I looked at mine with a quiet smile on my face. Christian pulled 179 or something and said "damn, now I have to buy everyone a bucket!" but as he stood up to head over to the bar I said "wait a minute buddy" and showed him mine- 200 "Ooooooohhhh!!!!!!!" Two buckets for everyone and the bar pays!

The night went on to jumping on the back of moving trucks, diving out of the way of oncoming motorcycles, being attacked by horny Russian girls, having double stacked wrestling matches in a giant pool party and eventually watching the sunrise as I escorted a very mushroom-induced paranoia-suffering Irishman home as he was scared of dogs and there are stray dogs EVERYWHERE on Phangan. He was having the worst nightmare of his life while I was crying with laughter - mostly because everything he said sounded like Jimeoin. When I finally got him back to his room I introduced myself to his roommate: "Nice to meet you Nick, I'm Jay. Allen has taken a whole bunch of mushrooms, he's scared the dogs are after him and probably won't sleep for another 8 hours or so, good luck to you both" And proceeded home to get my 2 hours sleep for the day.

All this happened the night before the Full Moon Party. Peter in all his wisdom and planning didn't have time to go to the party and make it to his flight so had to leave that day. So it was just me and the Danish boys ripping it up. Same Same had organised 'Asia's Biggest Rock Band' and man did they rock. A bunch of us were rocking the chorus as the singer held the microphone down in the middle of us. So awesome. So awesome in fact that I didn't even make it to the party at the beach! Same Same was just too awesome. Did I mention that it was awesome? No wonder they call it the place where it all begins and never ends.

The following night was a quiet one; a couple of beers and watching the England-Japan game. That was my much needed rest before moving on to Phi Phi for another week of craziness. More to come on those shenanigans later.

In all of this the one casualty was my camera; a bit of sand in the lens and now it's dead. She had a good run;- the better part of three years and she's served me well but it's time to retire her. So after part one of my huge bender all I have to show for it are these lousy t-shirts. (To be fair they are pretty awesome but considering my line of work they are completely useless in any practical sense.)

Sleep is Overrated Anyways

It's been a rough few weeks. Lots of flying, partying, drinking and general insanity. Now almost 6 weeks since my last post it's hard to know where to start. I flew into London for one quick night out with Jamie and his little crew in Acton town; I was exposed to the Acton side of London with some enthusiasm.

A big night out and virtually no sleep saw me off to the aiport the following morning on my way to Sweden. Yet another big night out there with a couple of guys I worked with up in Åre who happened to be in town. Gathering my senses the following night I planted myself on a train up to Åre to see if I could get an extremely special someone to ever speak to me again; so much of a jackass I have been at times and see about getting myself a job that would secure me a position for more than just the winter. Both tasks went quite promisingly and time will tell the ultimate outcome. Jenny needs time to think and the gym needs to work out how to get me a visa. At least the volition is there in both cases.

Back to Stockholm for a couple more nights out and burning money at a plethora of Stockholm bars. Back to London again for a 3 day bender using the Dyer residence as a base of operations. Despite me sleeping pretty much nothing it still managed to be relatively tame compared to previous London benders. Maturity is setting in. Oh Crap.

One quiet night before headed to a third London airport on my long haul back to Perth.

Here I sit 6 days later at the airport in Perth after several crazy nights out two quiet dinners and a couple of crazy days in the mix. Kubb in the park went reasonably well despite a little bit of rain interruption. Strangely enough I have managed to get virtually no sleep through a combination of partying and jetlag. It seems my body refuses to sleep during the hours of 11pm-6am. What's that about?

Now it's time for 17days in violence-ridden Thailand before starting the season in Perisher. PK is joining me for a few days at the start and we'll just have to hope that there are a few other people around who weren't deterred by the shootings in Bangkok. Wish me luck.

Stupidity of Youth

I've done a lot of stupid things in my time and had a lot of stupid things happen to me.

When I was about 5 years old I was at a friend's birthday party in Highgate. The parents were all out the back talking and drinking while the rest of us grabbed some gear to go play softball in the park across the street. I was one of the last ones to cross the street and without looking ran across to catch up with the others. We later figured out that I was hit at speed in the stomach, bounced my forehead off the hood and fell limply back onto the road. In a daze I crawled to a nearby verge and lost consciousness. Luckily all I was left with was a nasty bump on the head.

When I was about 6 years old I climbed a tree at Shenton Park Lake near my house and fell off the top of it - ass first. I went to a chiropractor a couple of years ago and it turns out that's one of the big causes of my back issues that come and go from time to time - I knocked my hips out of alignment.

When I was about 8 years old I tripped over in the playground at school and fractured my right arm. To this day I still have some weird discoloration on that arm as a result of the cast I had on for 6 weeks.

When I was about 9 years old I was cruising around the bays of Rottnest island with my parents; mamma was being towed behind the boat on a surf-ski, dad was driving and I was sitting up front. When mamma came off the surf-ski dad stopped suddenly to let her get back on. Once he got the thumbs up from mamma he started up again and drove off. Unfortunately for me he was concentrating on mamma and hadn't realised that I fell of the front when he stopped suddenly and as a result I got driven over by the propellor. Fortunately for me it missed all my vitals but to this day I am left with a tender little scar on my left ankle (which my sister has an almost identical scar on her right ankle from a father-daughter bicycle incident I won't go into here).

I then went a few years without causing myself any harm of note for some reason... Then, shortly after discovering alcohol when I was about 14 years old; I was on my way back to a friend's house in Jolimont and taking a shortcut through a small park. In a hurry to get back to the party we were running at speed. This combined with the darkness meant that I didn't see the chain that then connected two of these wooden posts on the edge of the park. My left knee was the victim here and this coupled with later acts of stupidity and misfortune has left it in a considerably vulnerable position.

There are a couple of incidents a little more directly related to alcohol including diving from a moving bus (strangely enough from which I walked away completely unscathed other than some grass stains on my shirt) and jumping over 5 stairs full of people in a crowded bar, about which I will spare you the details.

Moving on to 23 years of age and into my blogged life you might already know about the couch incident in Whistler. All set for my first season in the snow; only days before the resort opened and I was to start work I did a casual little leap over the couch in our lounge room to get to the kitchen more quickly and pow; torn cartillage in my knee knocking me out for close to 3 months. Funnily enough I went straight on from that incident to complete two snowboard instructor certifications and start a budding little career.

Fast forward 12 months towards the end of my second season in the snow and my dad has come to visit me in Norway. After a huge dump we were out in a beautifully sunny day and I decided to get a bit cocky and show off for pappa in the park. Having only been skiing for a few weeks this was not the smartest of moves... It was all going fine for the first couple of runs until one of my skis came off on a landing and the very same knee sent a shooting pain through me as I came to a wild and sudden stop. At first I thought I had redone the same injury but it later turned out to be a crush fracture just below my knee. I was given the option of surgery but opted for the natural path. I am happy I did that as since then I have had pretty much no problems.

In some ways I have been lucky. Three trips to Thailand now and I have still not been robbed, attacked, lost a credit card or passport; I've not even been charged for losing my roomkey (the most common of Thai misfortunes)- the worst I got was either a bacterial infection from running around the streets of Bangkok barefoot at 4am or having one of a pair of expensive shoes stolen (which mysteriously turned up 3 days later). For this I am thankful.

Hopefully now, as I grow a little older and hopefully wiser; the frequency of such incidents will reduce. But sometimes hope is just that; the stupidity of youth.

As the Ominous Shadow Looms Overhead...

If anyone who knows me were to compare the James they new 6 months ago to the one here in April 2010 there would be some pretty significant differences;

For the first time in a long time the reason I can't remember details about the last time I went out drinking is not the quantity of alcohol I had on that particular night, but rather the time that has passed between then and now. I could count the number of times I have eaten out in the last 5 months on my fingers and in that time the contents of my bank account have almost tripled.

It is not until I stop and realise that I will be out of here 5 days short of breaking the 6 month mark that some sort of consistency starts to show.

Despite the serious lack of snow this season I managed to get my ass down to BC for some decent snow. Decent being a relative term here in that Revelstoke gets an average of 15m of snow annually while this year it has not broken the 6m mark. Two full days of trees, power, drops and out-of-bounds were pretty heavy going for someone having only done something like 17days of riding this season. This, on top of an already weakened back, has caused me some issues... As such I have pulled out of my level 3 course with my tail between my legs. Lots of corrective training and massage and I should be ok for my June start date in Perisher but the prospect of packing up my gear ready for the flight seems quite likely.

With maturity on the rise and introspection at an all time high I start to think about factors that have contributed to the formative moments of the past 6 years; particularly the past 12 months. It's now painfully obvious that hindsight is 20/20 but hopefully the sober state in which I've learned this lesson will help it to stay with me while I do my best to repent. In short: that is a very vague, pompous and round-about way of saying that I have been a royal ass without even realising it and I hope I can fix the heinous mess I made... one day.

2010 has thus far been one of those years that breezes by and before you know it you're thinking shit; we're a THIRD of the way through it! Up until a few weeks ago I wouldn't have been surprised to wake up and look at the calendar to see January staring back at me.

Not the case now... Since I booked my flights and started actually looking at the calendar the weeks have been crawling by at a painful pace.

What's more is it looks like I may need to look at re-routing my trip as the freakin' apocalypse hits. Apparently global warming has decided to step it up a notch and send fourth and end-of-days ash cloud from underneath the melting ice, wiping out air traffic across pretty much all of Europe. While it's still 4 weeks away reports I have read say that the eruptions show no signs of subsiding any time soon. What the hell? I may have to look at getting my travel insurance company to fork out for a ticket the other way round the world and skip my London visit. No traditional epic weekend in London? I shudder at the thought.

The Next Step

Things are wrapping up here in Canada. Nick has gone back to Wales to save some cash before he joins the Navy (I know, retard right?). So things are pretty quiet around the apartment these days; and gone is the tempation to go out drinking. Damn British and their alcoholic ways. Little old innocent me is susceptible to suggestion you know! Here is a picture of Nick last night in town and me saying "look at this tool, leaving the life of a ski instructor to go get his rectum stretched on the high seas".

Finding someone to replace him and ease my burden with the rent has proven a little difficult and with my departure so close I have all but given up. I guess I'll just take the hit of doubling my rent for a total of 2 months. It's not like I need money to keep doing what I'm doing. Wait... what?

Perisher is locked in for another year. Flights are booked and I'll be setting off on my way in about 6 weeks. Despite how much I like it here - I am looking forward to something different so much that I fear I'm developing restless legs syndrome. I am getting so used to packing up and leaving every six months... will I ever be able to stop? James the Junkie Wanderer? I did have my first Murtaugh moment a little over a week ago; reminding me that one day I will actually be too old for this shit.

So as the end of another segment draws near I ask myself, how was this trip? Successful? Let's think about it this way:

I was loving working in Scandinavia and had myself a nice little set up in Åre but I thought I should give myself one more season of real snow, massive powder days and awesome riding in general before I get settled in anywhere. The irony of it all is that this is the worst season Alberta has had in years and Sweden got some pretty sweet dumps from what I hear. The season started so strong with the best and biggest opening this century and here we are at the end and - other than a little dusting here and there - that was about it. Cruel irony. I am well prepared for the fact that when I go back to Sweden later this year it's going to be the opposite but screw it.

Training has been awesome. What I learned in my PT course back in 2008 was a complete joke in retrospect. Real-life experience is how you learn. The problem is, the more I learn, more I get confused; in some respects at least. The fitness industry is filled with so many myths and so much rhetoric that so much of it conflicts.

Despite all my best efforts with training, I've been taking a bit of a beating both on and off the slopes. A sprained wrist, bruised nerve in my hand, an over-active lower back and hints of knee issues creeping back. Shamefully, the origin of most of my injuries can be traced back to drunken/hungover antics that while kind of funny, are a little tragic.

One of my big goals while I was here was to do a little more instructor certification. Now I am having doubts. I have had so little time to practice and so few 'everyone is a hero on a powder day' days that quite frankly; I suck. I have serious doubt as to whether I am ready to tackle my level 3 CASI cert but screw it. Here goes. Wish me luck on the 21st of April people. I am going to need a shitload of it.

Who the hell says "screw it" - seriously?

You've Come a Long Way Baby

Warning: this entry contains elements of the blog-equivalent of a clip-episode.

Unfortunately I can offer no relevance for this picture other than the album title. If only I knew this dude.

A good friend of mine was reading through the early days of James the Wanderer and mentioned how much my writing has come along. Not only have I stopped using all lower-case, started using punctuation but I have also actually put in the effort to actually write my entries, as opposed to poorly proofed copies of emails addressed to friends and family. Although, the kind of spontaneity that could only come from writing to my mother can make for some amusing prose.

`i hope i havnt made you worry too much with my stories, at least you can take comfort in the fact that im being very economical, last night i mainly drank other people's vodka``

And I thought this reference was particularly amusing considering my current circumstances:

"i was thinking of looking into re-enrolling at UWA and doing a bachelor of education, which is a year's supplementary study on top of the degree i have done, and then rather than going back home, just applying for an exchange in sweden/canada/usa. but probably not canada, why would i want to go there?

Although since the last time I was in this country I have mustered the skills to make my own poutine (chips, gravy and cheese curds). Back in the day I would only touch the stuff when very drunk or severely hungover (otherwise it was just too disgusting to stomach) but on a rare day here (the day after Australia day) I put together the ingredients to make my own batch. And I have to say it was pretty tasty.

I'd like to point out I've only been drinking about 5 or 6 times since I got to Canmore and my diet has been significantly better than poutine. Such behavior on a regular basis doesn't exactly befit the image of a personal trainer. But staying true to the "Harden the Fuck Up" bracelets my boss had custom made for the team here; when I drink and eat crap; I don't do it by halves.

Australia Day was pretty lame here. Canmore is dead compared to Banff and with work the next morning I wasn't about to make the trip out there. We still got our share of liquor into us though. Shots were flowing until about midnight when my roommate started seeing his dinner again outside the bar. Classy stuff. It's amazing how that kind of thing sobers you up instantly; as long as it's happening to someone else and not you. Think about it; how often do you see two people equally wasted/sick during a night out? As soon as one crosses the point of no return, the other realises it's much nicer on this side of that line.

It also seems I was somewhat prophetic back in 2006:

"Some of you may have received an email from me about Facebook. I know it sounds like just another lame social network thing but this one is different and good. The reason I mention this is because you can see pictures from my whole trip on there. Check it out sometime when you've got nothing better to do, not that anything better than that is imagineable... Later kiddlets"

The past two weeks have been pretty insane. With the owner/trainer away for his brother's wedding in Australia. I've had to pick up the slack with clients and as such am up at 5:30 every morning and working until 7 pm most nights. Spin classes, boot camp, mountain fit classes, group personal training and one on one sessions, all the while trying to squeeze in a bit of real exercise for my self.

Now that he's back, I can look forward to three days off in a row. Finally getting some snowboarding in is highly likely. Money and health is all well and good but what did I really come here for?

Today I was charged with the task of doing some reconnaissance at our competitor. Posing as a potential member, checking out their facility, sales procedures, hours, rates etc. I had to get all 007 on their asses. The data shows that it's an expensive, dank junkpile with nothing on AE. They did have a fun toy that amused me in between sets.

The Boardrock is kind of like a skateboard/snowboard balance trainer. Much like a skateboard deck with two rubber domes on the bottom. It feels like a skateboard that is really hard to balance on. You can do manuals, shuv-its, ollies etc with great difficulty coupled with high levels of entertainment. In just one training session I came a long way baby. I want one.