So I bet you’ve all been wondering, “What happened to that Welsh twat over Xmas?” Well those of you who didn’t get phone calls off me may be wondering that. Those of you who did get phone calls off me will probably be wondering; “What the hell was that drunk Welsh twat blathering on about?”

So here we go. It all started just before Xmas, when we booked the place we were staying at; “Life’s a Beach” We’d paid up front and had got all the details, when I was perusing the bumph they had sent us. I came across the clause; “All dogs MUST be vaccinated.”

Ours aren’t. Have you seen the fucking price on dog vaccinations? You could get ten new ones from the pound for that price!

Hastily phoning the owners, we informed them that we didn‘t mind that our dogs were not vaccinated, couldn’t care less if they caught rabies or died of distemper in fact. So fortunately they let us off..

Oh the joys of the internet. In years past we had sent presents to my family in the UK via the mail. This proved very silly, as for a $30 gift you’d end up paying $60 postage, which made the whole affair too bloody expensive. BUT buying stuff in the UK via the net means that it became a lot more cheaper, and we could spend the money we’d wasted on postage on the flaming gifts themselves.

Having said that, we sent the younger kids Aussie t-shirts, as they were cheap to mail. Also we sent my nephew, Shaun, a heavy metal t-shirt ( a cotton “heavy metal” t-shirt , not one made of heavy metal you arse!) I quite fancied one myself, but Lee-Anne told me I’d look like an aging head-banger in it, (yes, and?) In any case, Shaun tells me I’d look “brutal” in one, and he’s got taste.

But what do you buy for your old mam for Xmas? Specially if you have a mother like mine who doesn’t like anything, much, (at all?) I phoned her in the weeks running up to Xmas; “Oh there was a lovely Vera Lynn show on TV the other night, it made me really sad seeing the way we used to live.” Made her sad? Ideal!  Onto Amazon UK and a load of Vera Lynn books, DVD’s and CD’s were duly despatched. Sorted.

Bethy is no trouble to buy for, well not much. I’d seen a Japanese cookery book, one which had had rave reviews in the press here, (“Everyday Harumi”). Three of her favourite things in one! A book, cooking and Japanese culture, easy peasy!!  Going online I ordered it from a Sydney based bunch of wankers called “Borders Books”, as I was saving $13 by doing so. I ordered it on Dec 3 rd, and it  arrived on January 4 th,  she still hasn’t been given it. So in the weeks leading up to Xmas I was panicking, then I saw another book;  “Complete Jane Austin,” (another of Bethy’s new “faves,”) in the local book shop. So I bought her that. I took it home to show Lee-Anne, who  said; “Well you can take that back, Mum bought exactly that one for her yesterday.” Sods Law! I took it back and got her a “Mighty Boosh” book instead.

Lee-Anne. I didn’t have a clue what to get. I told her so, hoping for a hint. “Well I know what you’re getting,” she said. By wheedling and prying, and outright begging, I got her to agree that, rather than buying individual presents, we should buy ourselves a joint present, something we needed, something big, and just have small a gift each for under the tree. Ok, so we  agreed on a limit of $40 each for the small gifts. So we went out and bought a new Veg steamer, a rather fab one, for our joint gift. The trouble was as soon as we got  the steamer, I started finding things I thought she’d love. So I bought them, and got myself into a whole bunch of shit.

Bethy’s last day of term she brought home her end of year results certificates. Out of 12 units? Nine A’s, and three B’s, fantastic, if not a bit scary, (said the boy who didn’t pass a bloody thing at school, except water.)

The day before we left for the coast, the Capitals were playing Dandelong at the AIS. (I’ll translate; “The local women’s basketball side were playing another city’s side at the Australian Institute of Sport.)

We always go along, as it’s inspirational to Bethy, and I get to see a load of leggy woman getting sweaty. (Them not me. Ok, them and me.) Also it was the first match back in  Canberra for the world’s highest rated female basketball player, yes, including the Yank ones, a local girl called Lauren Jackson, (well worth a click on the link guys!)  who was back from the USA.

We slaughtered them, a good match, a bit one sided, but entertaining. Though the funniest thing happened before the match, while we were waiting to go in. Lee-Anne was stood on her own for a while. I turned around to look for her, only to see she’d been surrounded by a group of female basketball players from the AIS, none of whom were under six foot tall, most of whom were  six and a half foot tall. It looked like an optical illusion, or “Land of the giants”, the look on Lee-Anne’s face was priceless. (Lee-Anne’s only a wee thing. )

Ok, the very day before we left..

We were out giving the dogs ( all three of them, we had the mother in laws dog too) a walk, Lee-Anne turns to me and says; “I wonder which one of them will end up at the vets this holiday?” Our dogs have a habit of ending up at the vets on holiday, normally ensuring they do so at the most expensive time. Barnum holds the record, he ended up in the vets on XMAS FUCKING EVE at 5.30 pm, boy did that break the bank…

Anyway, Barnum went one better. He got ill that very afternoon, just as we were packing to leave. Down to the vet, diagnosed with arthritis and stupidity, and put on a course of injections. The twat.

Oh, on the day we were leaving I was searching the local library website, and found they had a book of hikes and longer walks, for the area we were staying. A last minute dash to all the libraries in Canberra, and I got it. Happy boy!

Driving down was a nightmare. The mother in law insisted on driving her car, with Bethy and Lee-Anne in it. I drove ours, with the dogs, fairs swap. I agreed to stay behind the mother in law for a change, (only because they had the GPS  and I didn’t have a clue where I was going.) But it was a horror show, absolutely terrifying. I soon learned to hang well back from her, as I was convinced she was going to cause an accident. When we eventuality stopped for a piss break I asked Lee-Anne “What the hell does Mary think she’s doing when she over takes?” She replied; “She’s using her cruise control to overtake”, Well that explains a great deal, but didn’t make any sense whatsoever…

One point, when we were heading down a narrow country lane, she pulled out over take straight into the path of a 4×4 which was in the process of overtaking her. I damn near shat myself.

We arrived there relatively unscathed but with me half a stone lighter. The place itself was fantastic, a typical Aussie 50’s beach house all done up in period furniture and décor. There were some lovely touches too, the 50’s dresses on the wardrobes, the 50’s manikin, the dog tags to put on our dogs collars. They settled in and I decided to take the dogs to the beach. The path down to the beach was less than 50 meters from our front door. The beach turned out to be immaculate, all white sands, rolling (warm!) turquoise seas, and the sands as far as the eye could see were totally empty. So Barnum took the opportunity to do a big shit on it.

In the whole time we were there we never saw more than 30 people on the beach at any one time.

We settled into a routine of going to the beach in the mornings before it got too hot, spending time there, then back to the house for a cuppa and a read. The afternoons we chilled out, or the girls went shopping and I went for a hike. The evenings we sat and watched DVD’s or read, and drunk wine.  It was fab, all that Xmas should be.

The night before Xmas eve Mary treated us to a meal out at a local restaurant, “The Butter Factory”. which was, believe it or not, a converted butter factory. It was, to be fair, a very well converted old (by Aussie standards) building, very nicely done. The interior was lovely (ok, some of the “art works” were dodgy,) with beautiful place settings and layout. Perfect.  The food was great, though the service wasn’t overly hasty. I got to try three local cheeses for me desert, so was well happy.

BUT: Sat opposite me were a very fat family. I couldn’t work out if it was father/mother/son/daughter or father/mother/son/ girlfriend, as they looked too similar to be unrelated, but also the son and girl person seemed too affectionate to be siblings. Anyway, they were served before us, and I gasped in a amazement. Lee–Anne asked what was wrong, thinking I’d spotted that the food was crap or something.  “Wait until their mains arrive, and watch the father.” He was fat, red faced, short of breath and eating his starter like his life depended on it.

Our starter arrived, and we stuck in, then after a wait, the fat families mains arrived; “Watch this,” I whispered to Lee-Anne. The father did exactly as he had done with the starter, he tipped the salt cellar upside down, and held it over his food.…and held it….and held it… and held it..and held it. He was lucky it was a fair sized cellar. A good restaurant would have kicked him out for insulting their food. Lee-Anne nearly hurled watching him.

On Xmas eve we got up very early and did a run into Nowra, the local town, to be first at the fish shop. Unfortunately most of the locals, knowing the score, had pre-placed their orders and were already queuing up to get their Xmas fish. Lee-Anne eventually got a few pounds of prawns and three Barramundi, plus we stopped on the way back and got a kilo of oysters. None of that was for me, obviously, but it was still nice being part of it all.

Xmas eve afternoon the wind picked up and it clouded over. I persuaded Lee-Anne and Bethy to come for a walk with me as it was now well cool enough to do so. We went and saw a local shipwreck, and then onto  a fine cliff headland, with loads of lizards and skinks scuttling about on the path, and that was  enough.

Xmas day it pissed down. Absolutely hammered it. Which was nice as it felt more like a “real “Xmas, a bit hiraeth inducing in fact. We still set up for breakfast and dinner on the outside table as it was in the lee of the house and under a sheltering awning.

What did I get?  Everything I like basically, booze, books and blow jobs, (though not all when the family were around.) All of us got t-shirts,  Lee-Anne got (Father Ted) “Down with this sort of thing”, Bethy got “I am old Greg” (Mighty Boosh) and I got “Bloody Emo Kids,” (Family guy.) We all got DVD’s and trinkets and quirky stuff, all were very well chosen.

Dinner was cooked on the BBQ,  and eaten outdoors, despite the weather which was now torrential,  as it is traditional here . Afterward I, semi-pissed, went down the beach with the dogs, in the pouring rain, to walk it off. I had the whole beach to myself, it was magical,  just walking in the sea in the rain, with mists and gale force winds, alone with the dogs on Xmas day.

Xmas night was spent watching new DVD’s, reading  new books,  and doing justice to some single malt. I decided to phone some people and wish them “Happy Xmas”, but I had forgotten to take my phone list with me. So the only people who got rung by a soggy, pissed, Welshman from a rain soaked beach, were those whose numbers I know off by heart. Which is not many when I’m in that state, so think yourself lucky.

Boxing day it continued to piss down, so we had a chill out day to get over the effects of the chilling out of the day before.

Lee-Anne drove her mother’s car back to Canberra, we all felt safer that way. We got back quicker too. Too quick as it turns out,  as Lee-Anne jumped a gatso and got a $240 fine and six points, swings and roundabouts.

I was working New Years Eve, and none of us felt like going into the city for the fireworks, so we stayed home. I was in bed by 10.00 pm, god I’m getting old. The next day, New years day, I was off work, so at night I had a bit of a celebration, the one I’d missed out on the night before. Seeing as I was now ratted, and in the UK it would be early morning, and all my friends would be in bed suffering hangovers from New years Eve, I decided to ring them up. To be fair, none of them told me to fuck off…

On the Saturday before my birthday we went to see the new Sherlock Holmes movie, as my birthday treat (or at least one of them, the other came later. And so did I.) Not bad at all, a good “re-imagining” of the genre, and I think I can speak as something of an expert? The day before my birthday, Bethy went off to the  2010 Australian Scouts Jamboree, which is being held up near Sydney. Such a bugger to see her gone just before my birthday, but she gave me a big hug and a great book as a gift, and a very sarcastic card.

My birthday was fun. It was my day off, so I got to stay home and cook for the pair of us. I did a layered crepe stack with three fillings (mushroom and spinach, broad bean pate, and carrot pate,) served with a peccorino sauce, crushed new potatoes, and a pear and walnut salad. A sure sign of my age is that my lovely wife gave me a new wallet, some single malt, and a “nose and ear hair trimmer”, which did nothing for my self esteem, but loads for my looks. But she made me feel like a 16 year old later. (I couldn’t find one anywhere though, boom boom!)

So that’s about it my friends! We’re back at work, I’m back on the wagon, we’re back at the gym,

It’s too bloody hot to describe here, it hits 38 degrees here today, it’s a matter of running from air conditioner to air conditioner, and I’m sat here typing this in just my knickers. We’re off to see the one day test, Pakistan vs. Aus, at the Sydney Cricket Ground on the 24 th Jan, and may combine it with a dirty weekend. We’re hoping, if I can swing the holiday time, to go to Debs Midwinter’s birthday party in Feb.

Anyone read this far?