England in South Africa - Cape Town 2020

With the current COVID-19 lock-down limiting the things we're all able to do, I've decided it's about time I got back on the writing horse. So where better to begin than going back a few months, before any hint of travel restrictions, to January 2020 and a trip to watch England's 2nd test of the 2019/20 series against South Africa at Cape Town's Newlands Cricket Ground.

Newlands is a ground I've always wanted to go to and is, without a doubt, one of the most picturesque cricket grounds, nay sports grounds, in the world. A few years back I even joined as an overseas member, one of two Lancashire members (that I know of) to do so. So once dates were confirmed for the latest series it was a no-brainer that I was straight online and booking my accommodation and flights via Munich. Tickets in the members' pavilion were sorted without much of an issue and so it was just a case of letting the excitement build before the trip.

Of course, excitement was slightly tempered by England's performance in the first test, but still, in the cold, early hours of January 30th I got to Manchester Airport, absolutely flew through check-in and grabbed some breakfast airside. There was nothing much else to write home about until I touched down in Munich for a full five hour layover.

Me being me, I slipped up a tad, here. I passed through our arrival terminal, which was bustling with an array of shops, bars and eateries. I jumped on the link train to my departure terminal, walked a fair distance, passed through a security check and found myself in a smaller area with only three places to eat/drink and a handful of shops. After exploring as much of the terminal as I could I settled down for a bit of beer ticking and currywurst.

Eventually I got on a flight I'd rather forget, thanks to the kids next to me and their parents who couldn't keep them in line. Despite being leaned on, interrupted, kicked and so on, I somehow managed to get some sleep which helped pass the time. The rest wasn't too bad, a mixture of in-flight entertainment, eating and my own games/music actually made light work of keeping myself entertained. I could've done with some duct tape for them kids, mind.

Still, I guess it was only a minor inconvenience in the end and I found myself in country no. 21 and continent no. 5 on NYE 2019. Customs was easy as you like and, after a swift change of t-shirt and an attempt to stop myself from stinking the place out after such a long flight I found a cab just as easily and was off towards my accommodation to drop the bags off, as I couldn't get into my room for a few hours yet. The view of Table Mountain on the way in was superb and there was a bit of groundspotting as well as I tried to work out what one stadium was from a distance (the Athlone Stadium, it turns out). Once at my digs, a self-catering apartment which was an absolute bargain, I sorted out all the paperwork, made friends with the staff and then headed off up to the railway station with the intention of catching a train to Newlands.

That plan soon went out of the window when a) there was a lack of a reliable timetable and b) trains were cancelled. The area around the station wasn't the most salubrious, so when I found myself in a battered old car with a taxi sign plonked on the back seat, I also found myself questioning my sanity. Still, it turned out fine, he was even a United fan, but he didn't seem to grasp that I wanted to get to the cricket ground and dropped me by Newlands Stadium, more famous for rugby union that cricket. Still, I told him it was fine, jumped out and had a look through the gate before getting my bearings. I wound past Newlands Brewery (owned by AB Inbev, ugh) and the rather uninviting looking Springbok Pub before stumbling upon the railway station. Even before I heard the stories from people later in the trip, I got the distinct feeling that I was probably better off *not* getting the train. Still, negotiating the underpass to the other side, I came out by the cricket ground and made it round to the main gate.

After a bit of a misunderstanding with the woman on the gate, I ended up inside main reception and talking to Shimmy on the front desk. I'd been in email contact with her previously, so a few hiccups with picking up my membership card as well as the tickets were soon sorted and I had them in my hands. A slightly amusing moment was included when it turned out Dave's tickets were on the row usually reserved for older spectators... After a bit of a natter with a very busy Shimmy I left her to it and walked a few hundred yards down the road to the Kelvin Grove Club. A rather nice sports and social club, they have reciprocal agreements with a few clubs around the world, including the WACA, where I also just happen to be a member. A rather confused security guard led me to main reception where, within a couple of minutes, I'd got my temporary membership pass and the last main job I needed to do prior to the cricket was done. I could finally relax a bit. I bumped into a mate, Andy, here, who was sorting his reciprocal pass through the MCC, and after a catch-up with him I walked the 20 minutes through Newlands and Rondebosch, passing through parkland and a couple of cricket squares, up to the main sport and social site of Western Province Cricket Club.

I'd decided that the opportunity to make full use of the facilities available to me as WPCC member was too good to pass up, so I headed over and not only wandered round the outside pitches (no games on, unfortunately) but found myself sat at the bar as well. For quite a bit longer than intended. I ended up speaking to a few people, making some good friends - especially Thurston behind the bar. I was welcomed like an old friend and time passed with some good old fashioned cricket natter. Eventually, the lack of food, quite a bit of booze and the fact that I'd not settled properly after travelling started to kick in. With it being NYE and my check-in time looming large, I decided it was time to start heading back. Of course, I was miles away from the centre in a suburb with limited transport options, so I ended up breaking my Uber duck to get 'home'.

Once I checked in I went for a wander looking for food. One Russian and chips later (some sort of sausage) I headed to bed with the intention of catching up on a couple of hours kip before going to a bar up the road for NYE. Of course, when I did come back round, I felt like absolute crap, so I went back to bed until midnight before watching the Waterfront fireworks from my balcony. Still, it worked out alright as it meant I didn't feel awful the next morning when setting out for the tourist trail. There was nowhere open, so I was left with no food and a can of pop to sustain me. For some reason I thought it would be quiet, so I wasn't too perturbed at setting off for Table Mountain later than intended. Unfortunately it seemed that hundreds of tourists hadn't let a silly thing like NYE get in the way and I was stood baking for an hour and a half before getting the cable car up to the top. It was a 360 degree rotating cable car, giving a good view of everything around us, and we ended up being serenaded by a large African group singing. I think it was religious from what I picked up, but never mind. The last few seconds were unnerving, travelling at pace it looked, from my perspective, like we were going to crash straight into the mountain itself. Emerging unscathed I found myself on top of one of the most iconic natural places on Earth. I grabbed food (even in a tourist spot the prices were cheap and didn't take the piss), took a photo for, and chatted with, a Leeds supporting family who weren't going to be around for the cricket as they'd banked on the Cape Town test being Boxing Day and then went for a walk round as far as I could manage on a pair of trainers. I even managed to get a pint up there. There was a bit of wildlife on show and the views were spectacular, the Southern Atlantic Ocean glistening below me. After a while it was back down in the cable car followed by a shuttle bus back to the main road. There was a bus stop there, but it seemed you couldn't pay on the bus from what I could gather, so I attempted to figure out just how I was going to get down to Camps Bay and the beach that awaited.

I decided to take a punt on the fact that I'd be passing through a rather nice area and started walking down. It was a pleasant walk, downhill which was a relief, through houses that were either occupied by the well-to-do or rented out by them to holiday makers with more money than sense. There were some wonderful views of Table Mountain itself and the Lion's Head peak on the other side. I wound down to the beach, took in the view across the Atlantic, took in the sights around the beach itself and trudged back onto the main road. By this point I reckoned I was pretty safe and started the long walk back towards Sea Point. The sight of minibus taxis rammed to the brim with locals along with kids riding in the back of pick-up trucks was a little bizarre and unnerving, but they didn't seem to mind, so hey.

After a stop-off for a bit of shopping (and getting asked to remove my cap briefly so that the camera could see my face, before putting it back on again) I found myself in Mojo Market. I grabbed a spot near one of the bars and made my way through a few brews from Newland Springs Brewery, as well as grabbing a rather lovely lamb wrap to soothe the hunger pangs that had kicked in. After letting my eyes wander quite a bit, I moved over to another bar for a beer flight and then jumped in another cab back to base. After a bit of time to sort myself out I headed up the infamous Long Street to Beerhouse.

I'd been warned to be careful round Long Street, not of anything violent, just petty crime. I got approached a few times wandering up and down, but most of the time ignoring them, being firm and carrying on walking did the trick. I was half tempted by a curry, but the restaurant I'd found looked tiny and packed, so I stuck to the beer. Parking myself at the bar in Beerhouse, I was surrounded by England supporters. It was boiling and I started to feel tired and rough again, so I made my way through a handful of the huge range of beers on offer before heading back, dodging the requests for food.

I must give a special mention to the old Yorkshire couple in Beerhouse, who made no attempt to dial down the accents, particularly when the woman kept saying "ta love" to the fella behind the bar, oblivious to the fact that he more than likely didn't have a clue what she was blathering on about.

Before heading out for the evening I'd taken the last minute decision to book myself on a tour down to Cape Point and the Cape of Good Hope the next day. By the time the bus was leaving Cape Town it was rammed and we set off on the long journey. It took almost as long to make the last few hundred yards once we'd joined the queue to get into the National Park. Once we were in and at Cape Point I had a walk up to the lighthouse, grabbed a bite to eat (along with a chat with some Durham based Yorkshire fans) and then shit out of hiking down to the Cape of Good Hope itself and got the bus down instead. It's the most South-Western point on the African continent, so it was a good tick. I took in the views across the rocks before the bus headed out, past even more traffic and a few baboons watching what was going on.

 I ended up talking to the American lass sat next to me at this point as well. Turned out she'd got family round Sheffield and Manchester and was visiting them within a few weeks, so we had a good chat. I warned her she was going into the cold! The next stop was Boulders Beach in Simon's Town, home to a penguin colony. Everyone likes penguins, right? There were plenty around, along with a few dassies as well. We didn't have long, but we had queue-jumping tickets, so it was straight in and I managed to head down a quieter route than most people, making penguin watching a lot easier.

I do have to also mention what I heard from one tourist outside, "I went to Robben Island yesterday and I'm pretty sure there's worse places I could've spent..." I didn't hear exactly how that ended, but I'm sure we can all guess. Unbelievable.

Back at base, I ate the snoek and chips I got in a takeaway on the way down, trying to pick out the countless bones, and then headed up to Greenmarket Square where Dave, Shep and Stewart were staying. They had landed that day, so I met up with them to say hello, make arrangements for tomorrow and drop off Dave's tickets. I had a few pints with them and hung around whilst Dave and Shep took advantage of the buffet, which made me regret my crappy fish, bone and chips. Still, I took advantage a couple of times later in the trip. After listening to Shep telling me how he once "took a shit in the town hall where the Boer surrendered to Kitchener" we decamped to the adjoining pub and tried to have a quiet drink with loud Scousers and two loud Gloucestershire women behind us before I declared for the evening. After shaking off one particularly persistent beggar on the square (there was a large refugee camp outside a church there, the occupants of which were desperately trying to get something out of anyone who walked past) I got back and headed to bed.

The next morning I met the others back at the hotel and we got a cab to the ground. Stewart and Shep were with others in the Century Club whereas myself and Dave swanned into the pavilion. A good day's cricket followed, which ended pretty even. Conversations were made with locals, with one amusing moment when somebody told David to speak English when they couldn't understand him; "ha, actually, he's Welsh." Thurston was back behind the bar and the importance of knowing and being good to your barman showed itself quite well throughout the five days. I also enjoyed watching the trains going back and forth behind the ground, but I think I was on my own with that one. After the day had finished we attempted to meet our cab - but the driver had done a runner. After a bit of a nightmare we eventually ended up back at Greenmarket Square. Beer, food and a chat with another Lancs supporter, Tim. I headed back again, having to shake off another chancer - "you don't give me money, you come to the market and buy me food." "It's 10 o'clock at night you idiot, fuck off" - and braced myself for day 2.

Day 2 started with a wander round the ground, so I'd seen more than just our little corner of it. After picking up a couple of bits and pieces to bring back we perched in the Oaks Room again for the day's play. We had a good chat with a young Kent fan called Jack. Only in his 20s, early at that, and he reckoned t20 should be scrapped! That lad will go far. The Welsh connection also continued when Dave came back from the loo saying someone had been singing Bread of Heaven in the traps. After the day had finished we went next door to the Kelvin Grove Club. After a couple of pints in the pool bar, getting talking to another local, we found Shep in the champagne and sushi bar. No champagne was drunk on this occasion, but the sweet and sour chicken was spot on.

After I had an unintentionally late start, Day 3 became the day myself and Dave tried to get our hands on some WPCC goodies and, with the help of John and Nabu, we got ourselves a decent mixture of bits and pieces. With that job successfully completed we headed back into the Oaks Room feeling quite smug with ourselves. Whilst watching the cricket, I noticed a fella eyeing my Lancs tie up. A broad Scottish accent came across, "ah, Lancashire. My mother was a Lancastrian." It turns out our new friend, Hamish, had played over 350 games for the MCC and represented Scotland as well. He'd played against Lancs for them in the first year of the Benson & Hedges Cup, scoring 1 not out after doing his hamstring. The best bit was when he told us he had to retire hurt at Trent Bridge after Richard Hadlee knocked his teeth out. The delivery of the last story, whilst pushing his false teeth out of his gob at the punchline, had me and Dave in stitches. We had a good hour or so nattering to him before watching the rest of the day. The test itself was still ebbing and flowing in true, fascinating test match fashion. We had another evening in Kelvin Grove, meeting up with Warwickshire member Darren and his good lady Denise, even going for a proper meal this time. One jalapeño steak later and it was time to regroup for day 4.

After sitting in my designated seat outside for a very brief moment before play, we started the day upstairs in the Long Room, which Dave had lovingly termed the "dregs bar", a name that will now stick with me for eternity as well. We got a good perch up there and bumped into some of the Barmy Army lads we know, who were taking advantage of WPCC's reciprocal agreement with Surrey. We went back downstairs and picked up another tie, with our new friend Nabu taking a photo of her "friends from England."

We then watched on as England attempted to get into a commanding position with some much more assured batting the second time around. A superb knock from Sibley and a quick-fire cameo from Stokes had put England in a good position before South Africa went back into bat. An Iris was making a regular appearance on the outfield and we watched as the game seemed to be drifting. Afterwards we found our cabbie, after watching security confiscate fake taxi signs and talking to another Kent fan who bemoaned "football fans" invading test matches abroad, and headed back for beer and food.

Actually, that seems a good time to note, the only First-Class County I didn't see represented on the trip was Leicestershire. But 17/18 is better than the 16/18 I saw in Perth.

The following morning I got my first glimpse of the motorway to nowhere on the way to the ground. Myself and Dave found a quiet spot in front of the window, before a snotty nosed older woman helped her husband into the seat right in front of the window and turned to us. "Those are the worst seats in the house, you'll be sat behind us." She was probably pretty smug when we buggered off upstairs. We didn't fare much better up there with people standing in the way so we ended up back downstairs. I had my own issue when I tried the chicken burger for the first time - whether it was a coincidence or not I don't know, but later on I claimed two quick wickets for England whilst I was traipsing backwards and forwards to the loo. Oops. Mind you, the amount of booze drunk and crap eaten over the previous few days probably didn't help, either.

On the pitch England made inroads in spurts, but towards the end it started to look a bit twitchy. We got chatting to another local in the afternoon about all things cricket, but eventually he conceded defeat, even when we were still wondering if the breakthrough was coming. Some superb fielding was on show and eventually Philander, in his last Newlands test, was the last man out and we could celebrate. England levelled the series and I'd seen us win a test match abroad. After watching the presentation and saying goodbye to the staff, we headed back to the Kelvin Grove pool bar, chatted with an old Bolton lad and his wife, then headed back to the champagne and sushi bar. Shep, Darren and Denise were there and we were also joined by Dave and Ray. This time, champagne did flow along with quite a lot more Chinese food going round. We stayed quite late and had a good natter. There was another Englishman in who was commiserating as he was now assimilated with South Africa. We just thought he was a bit strange. Still, England had just won in Cape Town for the first time in 63 years, so we shrugged it off and made the best of the evening. When I got back to base I stayed up watching the Manchester derby for a bit, until the Berties scored, then I decided it was time to rest my weary head.

The next day was a slightly slower start than intended, which you might well have imagined, before I wandered over to the Castle of Good Hope, originally a Dutch fort. I also passed a bus to Harare, which I would not have wanted to be on... I had a good mooch around the castle, watched a cannon get fired (and jumped a mile despite knowing it was about to go off) and found a great trainspotting vantage point. It was just a pity I had less than five minutes to admire the view. After a chat with a woman who spotted my Lancs polo, "that looks like a good English shirt," I headed across the famous Grand Parade and met the Three Amigos to get a taxi up to the WPCC clubhouse for a drink.

We had a few pints in there, said a few final goodbyes to staff and members and headed to a pub called The Foresters - "The Oldest Restaurant And Bar In the Country – Est 1852" according to their website. A few more beers were ticked off in there and I had a rather nice ostrich burger as well. Darren and Denise joined us, however cabs were proving tricky to come by and I had to leave them all to make my own way back towards town. After a brief stop off back at base, I was back in a cab and up to Green Point and the Cape Town Stadium.

Built for the 2010 Football World Cup, the 55,000 capacity stadium sits not a million miles away from the waterfront. It's a bit of a political hot potato in the city, as it has been criminally under-utilised since the World Cup and there have been some calls for it to be demolished. However, alongside the gigs that have taken place here, it is also called home by Cape Town City FC, who play in the South African Premier League. They were at home to AmaZulu that night, so it seemed rude to not go and check it out. I certainly wasn't the only English person there, either. The official crowd I've seen recorded is 5,000, although that seemed generous to me, but either way, rattling round in such a large stadium seemed bizarre. Not quite the few hundred I saw inside Hampden Park for a Queen's Park game, but still strange. I found the ground to be far more impressive on the inside. Only one side was open and there were still touts outside, which was a bit ridiculous, really. It only cost just over £2 to get in as it was! It finished 2-2, after City were 2-0 up, and all the goals came in the first half. It wasn't the best game, but entertaining enough. The officiating was interesting as well, they certainly didn't stand for any shit from either side. 

Atmosphere wise, there was a small group of "Ultras" standing front and centre, who only let up with the slow, African chanting to celebrate the goals. Not to mention the dreaded vuvuzelas that were being sold inside. Once the final whistle went I was on my toes and back to base via a cab driven by a very talkative Zimbabwean who kept talking about wanting someone to invite/sponsor him to visit England. I didn't take him up on that part of the conversation.

The next day was my last full day and I was up and out, walking up to the V&A Waterfront to jump on a ferry to Robben Island. At least, that was the plan. A long story short, there was a strike on due to a pay dispute and all tours that were running that day were booked up already, so I spent an absolute age queuing for a refund and set about having a wander around the Waterfront instead. It wasn't a bad thing in the end. I had a nosey at a museum on the jetty where boats to Robben Island went from when it was in use and wandered around one of the shopping centres. After a lap of the Waterfront, a couple of beers in a food hall and watching a bridge get raised and lowered for an incoming ship I met Dave and Shep in Mitchell's Brewhouse. It turned out the place was Scottish themed, to the point where Flower of Scotland was playing in the toilets. Still, we were joined at one point by another Lancs member, Colin, so we actually had a Lancashire enclave in place. Myself and Colin also discovered we were sharing the same flight home the following morning. I ticked off a few beers, Colin went wandering and myself, Dave and Shep got a cab back to Greenmarket Square.

Dave had been dying to find somewhere doing an ostrich steak on the trip, as the place he went last time had shut down, and a burger wasn't deemed a suitable substitute. As it was, he found somewhere on the square, a place called Mesopotamia, and we settled in for the last meal of the trip. Well, the last meal in Cape Town for them as they were off to Port Elizabeth for the third test. Whilst they sampled the ostrich, I took a punt on a springbok steak, and I have to say it was bloody marvellous. Washed down with a rather nice bottle of white, too. Once we'd done, it was back to their hotel where Stewart, Darren and Denise were plotted up already and we settled in for a few pints. I stayed for a couple more than first intended. Yes, it was a 4am alarm call, but with it being my last night and with us still celebrating a win, it would have been rude of me to head back *too* early. Still, I eventually called it a night and wandered back. I did have a, by now to be expected, send off from one last chancer who was waving some sort of white stick around - almost like a shattered lighting tube, which he smacked against the floor, shattering it that little bit more. The only bit that I understood of what he was saying to me centered on someone getting "fucked up." I still don't know if it was me, him, or someone else who was meant to be getting "fucked up", but after being told to go away for the third time he eventually walked off just as I was about to tell him exactly where the stick was going to end up if he didn't leave me alone.

So my time in South Africa was almost at an end. I made my way to the airport only to discover I was an hour early for check-in. For one last bizarre experience, I ended up having breakfast in a Wimpy with sit-down table service. This was after being "mugged" by an attendant in the toilet for a bit of cash after handing me a paper towel and turning a tap on. The cheeky bugger looked disappointed with what I gave him, but sod it. I finally got checked in, bumped into Colin and passed through the most relaxed security and passport checks I've ever seen at an airport. I had a wander round the terminal before settling down for a chat with Colin. Boarding was delayed and we set-off about half an hour late. There was slightly less time to kill in Munich this time around, although a second security check proved to be a bit of a ballache, but there soon time to wander and relax before a fairly straightforward flight. Manchester Airport provided an easy security and bag collection experience before I met my dad and we set off back to Preston.

All in all, it was belting trip. Some people had been apprehensive when I told them I was going out to Cape Town and questioned if it would be safe, but I found a wonderful, welcoming city that I can't wait to visit again. Yes, there was hassle, but I've had more uncomfortable moments in European cities, to be honest. A great place, a great trip, and I saw England win a test match on a ground that has been a graveyard for them over the years. Roll on the next visit.

The full set of photos can be found here.

Where beer does flow and men chunder - The 2017/18 Ashes in Perth

One rather large item on my bucket list has always been to watch England play an Ashes Test Match in Australia. I've also set myself a target of eventually having watched them play at all the Test venues in Aus. So, when it was announced that the WACA in Perth was going to be replaced by a brand spanking new stadium and that the 2017/18 Test would be the last one at the historic old ground I decided I'd best get myself over to the other side of the world and get it crossed off.

The initial flight out was on the Monday morning before the game was due to start. I met Shep and Dave, two fellow Lancashire members, in a bar on the other side of security and settled into various cricket related discussions. Typically we were delayed due to a buildup of air traffic at Manchester Airport, but we were soon up in the air and on the way. The flight itself was uneventful, with the discovery of the original Ghostbusters on the inflight entertainment system aiding with passing the time. However, at just under 13 hours, this was by far the longest flight I'd ever done and at both the 7 (the usual flight time to Toronto) and 9 (the previous longest flight I'd done to Chicago) hour mark I felt like I was trapped in a bit of a nightmare...

Still, now in Tuesday, we arrived at Changi Airport, Singapore. The delay meant we were seriously pushing it to get across to the next gate, especially with having to go through security again. So there was a bit of a sprint across the airport, but in the end we had plenty of time as the flight to Perth was delayed by about 10 minutes. This one was only a short flight (5 hours!) but on a 'lesser' plane and I was struggling at the end of it. However my first Singapore Sling did help to ease the suffering!

Once down in Perth Airport things got a lot easier. The e-visa system and electronic gates made customs ridiculously easy, although it did mean I got no stamp in my passport, which I was a bit annoyed about. Still, the ease of getting in is worth it I guess, so you can't complain too much. The airport had expanded since my companions were last here and, unbeknownst to them, there were now four terminals. So we opted to get a cab into town rather than sticking to the original plan of meeting the other travellers coming in on an internal flight and sharing a hire car with them.

I arrived at the Ambassador hotel, which was very nice indeed, checked in and got my head down for a bit before heading back out for a walk to explore my surroundings. It had gone cool out by this point and the wind was actually cold, which I wasn't quite prepared for. I'd heard about the Fremantle Doctor, but I didn't realise how strong it actually was! I wandered across Langley Park (Middleton all over the world...) and to the edge of the River Swan before following the riverside path up towards Elizabeth Quay. I passed the rather impressive Supreme Court and marvelled at a rather large Dinosaur advertising a local exhibition. There was even a Woolworths in a shopping centre and an EB Games store to continue the extinct species theme. After checking out the town hall and getting most of my souvenir shopping done early I dropped a few bits back at the hotel and met Shep and Dave in the rather peculiarly named Fenians Irish Pub for a pint or three.

The day before the Test was one of only two full free days I had in the city and the only one I'd get to myself, so I was determined to make the most of it. Jet lag had other ideas, mind, aided by a nearby alarm going off at about half 6 in the morning. Twice. Eventually, after getting out of the hotel a good couple of hours later than planned, I was walking through Perth and up one bloody great big hill to the majestic King's Park.

As well as being a magnificent place to come and hang out, the park is two thirds native bushland. That's right, no need at all to head to the outback and risk meeting all kinds of dangerous creatures, just head slightly out of the city centre to a park with designated trails through genuine Aussie bush. I did nearly get taken out by the huge dragonflies, though, and wearing suede trainers for the sandy, stony path back through the longer trail was a definite mistake. But other than that it was bloody magnificent and well worth the effort.

After all of that I decided that I'd definitely earned myself a beer. I headed back down the hill and into Perth Railway Station, where I picked up the train to Fremantle. I'd been told to get the ferry, but why would you do that when there's trains?!

Fremantle is a lovely little place, known for being the site of a convict jail which you can visit. The intention was to do that last, with a brewery and two bars on my list to hit first. Of course, everything went to pot when on the way to my first stop off I saw a huge sign for a craft beer bar, which just happened to be on my route. Well, it'd be rude not to, wouldn't it? A pint in the Ball & Chain it was, alongside a rather nice serving of barramundi and chips. From there I crossed a park and headed to my main target for the day, Little Creatures Brewery. It didn't disappoint. The beer was fantastic, the food looked good and the staff were brilliant. I really didn't want to leave, but with a limited time in town I had to go out and explore.

On one of their staff member's recommendations I had another extra stop off, the Norfolk Hotel. Again, I could have spent the rest of the day there. From there it was onto The Monk Brewery & Kitchen and from there I walked over the road to the Sail & Anchor. Both very good bars with an excellent range of craft beer on, although the latter wasn't quite as laid back as the rest had been which started to get to me a little bit. Hunger had a little to do with that, so with a beer head on I went to a local takeaway across the road called Hungry Jack's... For those that, like me, didn't know, it was Burger King under a different name. Still, it filled a hole.

By this point it was starting to get a bit late and the light was fading. Still, slightly tipsy Michael decided that you had to visit Fremantle Jail regardless, so armed with Google Maps I headed off to find it, passing some sort of Oval on the way (I failed to get in). Eventually I did find the jail, all closed up for the day! Still, I had a wander around the outer walls, found the aptly named Holdsworth Street and got a good snap of the lit up entrance. As I was completely unsure of the train times back I decided enough was enough and made my way back to the station, stumbling across the Fremantle Oval on my way - which I later learned was the same one I'd unsuccessfully attempted to get into earlier. A sports ground with an open gate? Well, why not? A quick diversion through there and I was back at the station and, eventually, back in the centre of Perth. I met Shep and Dave in the Grosvenor and Shep gave me a visiting members' guest pass he'd managed to get for day 4. A day out of the sun? Go on, then.

And so Thursday morning came around and your extremely giddy writer was up and out early, heading down to the WACA to take it all in before the Test Match started. After a wander round both outside and inside I found myself a spot on the West Grass Bank and settled in for a great day for England, Malan's superb ton and a very decent score filling the English in the ground with optimism.

Off the pitch the 'entertainment' came from a group of Aussies dressed as chillis. They couldn't understand it when they were pulled up about singing "I'd rather be a P**i than a Pom" and there was a bit of idiotic behaviour at times, but in the main they did behave themselves. However, a run in with the exec box behind us (I still don't know what happened) and a few other incidents meant that they were first banned from every bar in the ground and then, when someone else got them a beer, they were all 'asked' to leave. The stewarding in the public areas was the only thing that let the place down for me, people were kicked out for some very harmless things. But I guess that's what happens when you've got a private firm doing security.

The end of the day was spent shivering (the Fremantle Doctor came in with a vengeance, aided by the grass bank being covered in shade thanks to the aforementioned exec box), although that was a relief from the sun. A few of us were also trying to avoid being hit by the rubber ball two lads were playing cricket with using the KFC bucket army hats.

Talking of avoiding the sun, I have to mention the free sunscreen dispensers around the ground and the water fountains. Between them and volunteers going around with sun cream, water and frog sweets they did everything they could to help people protect themselves from the Perth sun.

The evening was then spent on a solo bar hop across Perth. The rooftop Bob's Bar was a pain in the backside to find, but find it I did. I would have eaten if the Doctor wasn't blowing so strongly up there. The Belgian Beer Cafe was excellent, although they rung last orders not much after 8pm. The Generous Squire was nice, but by this point I'd found out my companions were staying in their hotel bar for the evening so I thought I'd tick off as many of the craft beer bars on my list as I could. I headed off on a bit of a walk to Northbridge and attempted my first stop off at The Bird, but as it was five dollars to get in I politely declined and headed over to Lot Twenty. A wonderful bar with very friendly staff in a very interesting environment. And there was audio from Blackadder Goes Forth playing in the gents. Another one to put down on the "I wish I could stay longer" list.

The main reason I wasn't stopping longer was Northbridge Brewing (also going by Beerland Brewing Co. which confused me to no end when trying to find it). After trying a pint I settled in with a rack of tasters and a pizza whilst listening to the live music. I also bumped into a couple of Essex members that I knew through a Lancs supporting mate. All in all, a very good evening.

With the initial excitement of the first day long gone, Friday was a very sluggish start indeed. It was a warmer day which was already in evidence when I met Shep and Dave at their hotel to walk down to the ground. Cricket wise it started brightly with Bairstow getting his ton and England setting a record partnership at the WACA. However the usual story of quick wickets put paid to that and England finished with quite a few runs less than we'd hoped for. By the end of the day I was bored of watching Australia rack up the runs. Queuing up for an expensive XXXX gold in a slow queue were people were getting brassed off with a, by now, one beer limit just added to my frustrations. Add in the chunnering buffoons in the posh bit behind me and I was glad when the umpires called time for the day.


The evening saw another solo bar hop. I should probably have stayed in Petition Beer Corner which had about 15 draft beers on and countless bottles and cans. After a few drinks and a chat with the staff in there I headed back towards Northbridge in a failed attempt to be sociable. There was something on at NBC, so I got turned away, and after a wander, I ended up in a bar called Universal. I tried a beer which everyone had told me to avoid and instantly regretted my bravado. After standing at the back feeling awkward as the place got busier and louder I headed a couple of doors down to an American sports bar called Patriots, drawn in by the promise of food. I ate, I drank and then I gave it all up as a bad job and walked back to the hotel. There was a large police presence around as well, but I guess that was a usual Friday night thing.

Saturday saw another slow start, with the snooze button getting a bit of a hiding. I regretted both that and going straight to the museum in the ground when I wandered onto the hill and discovered that I'd lost my spot. I tried to get on part of the back wall where people had been sitting, just inside an area cordoned off for the kids taking part in the lunch break activities. Unfortunately there was a different steward working that section to the previous couple of days and he was a bit of a jobsworth, so I ended up settling a bit further down the hill. However, as people moved around I managed to get to move back in, easing the slight anxiety that was building as I did so.

The cricket again went to pot with England seemingly happy to throw down declaration bowling. Marsh's ton and Smith's double ton helped you spot the English supporters on the bank around me. Throw in England reviewing a decision that ended up being not out due to a no ball and, well, it was one of those days. I'd started keeping a track of the different county supporters around the ground. My main criteria was that non cricketing flags and shirts didn't count, so sorry Derby County, Derbyshire joined Gloucestershire as the only two first class counties I didn't see represented in Perth.

The Chillis were spotted again, this time in normal dress and behaving themselves. There was a Scottish bloke engaging in a friendly (genuinely) exchange with the English fans below him. Until he was thrown out for bending over and pretending to lift his kilt up, much to the dismay of everyone else. Being near the kids' section provided a few bits of entertainment, with one little girl excitedly pointing out a "balloon" to her dad, whilst everyone else tried not to laugh as they watched an inflated condom drifting across the stands. Later on, her brother got extremely upset because other kids were picking up and playing with one of the large amount of cardboard bucket hats he had collected over the day, protesting as if they were all priceless artifacts. And people wonder why I'm in no rush to have children!

I left slightly earlier than usual as I'd got a ticket to watch a bit of football. Perth Glory were at home to New Zealand side Wellington Phoenix in the A League. I've watched all sorts of nonsense to tick a new ground off in the past, so this was too good an opportunity to pass up. I headed up there with enough time to wander the ground beforehand, picking up a few bits and pieces and the usual programme. I resisted the temptation to go into the away section (although a few England fans who were also groundhopping did end up in there) and spent the first half sat at the back of the top tier behind the goal. I spent the second half wandering around until settling back into the top tier, this time down the front. It was an impressive ground, with the old facade still there amongst the modern backdrop. I was also impressed to see a terrace at one end. The game, however, was dreadful, although whether that's the standard of the league or the standard of the two teams at the bottom I don't know. Glory won 1-0 and as soon as the final whistle went I bolted out of the ground to the next craft beer place I had down to visit.

I'd seen Meat Candy on a list of places to try beer wise, but as impressive as the selection was, I ended up coming away more impressed with the food. A fried chicken restaurant, which was a 20 minute walk from the football ground, it was cosy, the lass serving me was very friendly and the hot chicken sandwich was amazing. I loved it and when I next make it back to Perth they'd better still be open.

With the state of play and the fact that I'd got a members' area pass, Sunday was a much later start. There wasn't much to report during the day, aside from being in a nice, air conditioned members' area with a bar just behind me serving decent beer at decent prices. With the state of England's batting it soon became clear that the end was nigh, but the rain came to make sure it was definitely pushed to a fifth day. In fact, the rain was absolutely ridiculous and contributed to everyone hanging around the ground gates waiting for an opportunity to leg it. We gave up and jumped in a cab instead.

That night was spent mainly in the bar at the Mantra, Shep and Dave's hotel. We met up with an Adelaide lad, Andy, that we'd met at Old Trafford in 2013 and some friends of Shep and Dave's from the Notts Taverner's bar at Trent Bridge were in as well. A couple of us ended up back at the bar in my hotel before I declared and called it a night.


Monday started off very wet indeed. For a few, brief hours we thought we may well save the match and keep the series alive. I had breakfast at a place called The Coffee Club just by my hotel before heading down to the ground and back into the members' area. After more rain and the hope of the pitch being damaged by leaky covers all hope was lost as the teams came back out and we lost a wicket straight away. From there on in it wasn't all that long before it was confirmed that my first experience of watching England abroad was to see us lose The Ashes. Not unexpectedly, I know, but still, it wasn't pleasant.

I reconvened with Shep and Dave at the Mantra, as they had bailed before the end. After a few beers and a postmortem I headed round the corner to Aachi, an Indian restaurant I'd spotted by chance a couple of days previously. As it was, a very good curry was just what I needed to make me forget about everything I had just seen.

The plan for the next day was to meet up with Shep, Dave and another Andy to go out for a drive. However, in the morning I reverted back a few decades by visiting the rather wonderful Nostalgia Box, a retro video game and console museum. I cannot do the place justice, I really can't. Some of the things they have need to be seen to be believed. The consoles going back to the 70s were just amazing. Not only that, but I got to remind myself how bad I am at Duck Hunt and I got to play Pong on a 40 year old machine. Honestly, it was a slightly aging video game nerd's dream come true.

Once I had run out of time in there, it was off on the drive to Lilac Hill and Midland Guildford Cricket Club. England have played a number of tour games here in the past. It really was a lovely setup, with a picturesque park as the backdrop. There were a couple of (Aussie Rules) football grounds around as well, Swans Districts being the biggest one around here.

From there it was a drive back to Fremantle, where Andy went to a cafe for a bite to eat and we three went to the Ball & Chain for a couple of pints. On the way back we pulled into Cottesloe so that I could take in the view of the Indian Ocean across the beach. Again, there was a picturesque golf course and Aussie Rules football ground in the vicinity as well.

I ended up joining Shep and Dave back at their hotel for another couple of drinks before we went over the road for food in Blue Rock. This was also where something that started out as a bit of a joke actually came to fruition - my 50th unique new beer of the trip. The bottle was raised to the restaurant with the comment "that's one half century more than most of our batsmen will be going home with" ringing in my ears. There was just time for a few last drinks with my two companions before our farewells. They were off out to Melbourne in the morning, I was flying back home in the afternoon.

And so, my time was done. I got up, packed, checked out, left my bag at reception and made the long walk up to the brand spanking new Perth Stadium (Optus Stadium, for sponsorship purposes). I'd hoped to get up close and walk around the outside, especially as there'd been a test event there a few days earlier, but alas it was still a building site all around, so I had to make do with a pleasant riverside walk and admiring it from a distance instead. I wasn't expecting much from Perth from what I'd heard, but I was pleasantly surprised. It is a lovely city and the views you can get are wonderful. There's plenty of parkland and no shortage of things to see. I still couldn't quite get over seeing Christmas stuff in summer weather, though.

I had one last meal in The Coffee Club before retrieving my bags and having one last walk through town to kill a bit of time. I was feeling a bit tired by this point, though, with such a long walk in the morning and the heat was cranking up, too, so I gave in and jumped in a taxi to the airport. The driver was Iranian and we had a good chat, with him reminiscing about adjusting to the weather when he first arrived.

It turned out the check-in desk only opened three hours before the flight, not four as I'm used to for long haul flights, so I went for a drink at a bar just further down from the desks. There seemed to be quite a lot going on at this side of the airport, which makes a change to most places. Eventually I was in and heading through security, where myself and others were 'randomly' selected for screening and testing for explosive materials. Only it wasn't random, if you walked past when there was a group being screened you didn't have to stop, if the benches were empty, you got waved in. I have no problem with these measures being in place, but don't lie about the methods used to screen people.

First impressions of the terminal were not good, but the more I wandered, the more I saw. I did a bit of last minute shopping and got ready for the flight, with another delay before boarding.

The flight to Singapore passed fairly incident free, although I was sat next to some entitled git who needed the odd sharp reminder about personal space. And across from me was a total pisshead and his wife who sank far more wine than I think they should have been served. He struggled to stand upright and walk off the plane in a straight line, that's for certain.

I didn't have much time in Singapore again, but I did have a bit more breathing space this time as we actually arrived early. After jumping on the SkyTrain between terminals I picked up a couple of Singapore souvenirs and went to look at the Koi Karp. I didn't have time for the butterfly gardens, though. What an airport, seriously, it's amazing. After trying not to lose the plot with the clueless passengers in the security line I was eventually through and able to relax before the boarding scrum. There were some interesting flights on show, Stockholm via Moscow being one and my flight to Frankfurt was then going onto New York.

I found my aisle seat, on the end of a middle row of four, and could barely contain my joy when the seat immediately next to me was left vacant! It was good to be able to stretch out, although after an initial good bit of sleep something woke me up and I then struggled to settle. It wasn't the best of flights after that, but it really could have been a lot, lot worse.

We arrived into Frankfurt early and after being flagged up by the scanners and having my feet checked by security (that German sense of humour, feeling your toes and going "six?!" Mate, I've been travelling for nigh on 24 hours, leave it out, will you?) I was into the not very impressive airport and having a bit of a wander. I picked up a nice German bobble hat and then settled down by the gate, only to find out that we were going to be delayed due to the fog in Manchester. There was something mumbled about construction work as well, but it didn't make sense.

After more wandering and resisting a McDonald's, I eventually made it onto the plane. I took my seat on the back row and couldn't believe my luck when, this time, I had two empty seats next to me. Time to sit back and relax. The flight passed off incident free and, once again, immigration re-entering the UK at Manchester Airport was a complete pain. It says a lot when getting into Australia was far easier and much less hassle than coming back home.

All in all it was a brilliant trip. I'd not expected anything from England, so I couldn't let that ruin the experience. It was everything I'd thought it would be and more. Plans for South Africa in 2019 and a return for the next Ashes Down Under are already being made.

The full album of photos can be found here.