The Broken Up Blat.

[James Deuce]

I had a workmate in the UK called Alex Wylie. I used to call him "Griz" but then you were probably expecting that. He was a very big Rugby fan and no mean player himself. However he suffered from a couple of things that I saw as personality defects, but then he reckoned I had more so I should shut up. He was pretty big, but nonetheless I still gave him a bit of stick, just to get an idea of his world view.

Being a Rugby Union worshiper, a pilgrimage to NZ and Australia was an obvious choice for Griz for his first OE. Griz was profoundly disappointed with both countries, because apart from their obvious worship of oval ball sports, the actual people at home in their actual country, little resembled the standard Shepherd's Bush dwelling, ANZAC pub vomit decorating rootin', tootin', sex machine that inhabited the the country of his birth, albeit in a largely temporary capacity. No, your average Kiwi and Aussie was comparatively quietly content in his/her home environment.

They also had a startling prediliction for revelling in the starkly contrasted landscape and scenery of both countries, and, what's more, actually interacting with an environment lacking dance clubs, vast shopping estates, ancient architecture, and nearby and recently aggressive neighbouring states. Kiwis and Aussies do stuff like swimming at the beach, having family BBQs, and actually having dinner parties and get togethers IN OTHER PEOPLE'S HOUSES. Which aren't tower block apartments, terraced houses, or even semi-detached houses. No, they live in bungalows and villas for the most part.

You see, Griz's world view could be summed up by the statement he used to justify his villification of these two isolated and sparsely populated countries: "You can only take so much fucking scenery." His idea of the perfect time involved tarts, recreational drugs of the snorted, inhaled, imbibed, and swallowed variety, then rinse and repeat. Sexual politics far outweighed quality of life (however you define it) in importance.

Well, Bollocks to that.

Being the lucky, lucky, lucky bastard that I am I went for ride to a family function today. Then I rode back. Unlike all of the rides I've been on this year I was flying solo, and the scope for doing your own thing, stopping where you like and generally not bothering to worry about anything other than riding and looking out for Enid and Alfred out on their Sunday jaunt, is immense.

The weather was fascinating. It looked like a brilliant warm Spring day, but had all the sting of a mid-winter chill, thanks to a recent snowfall on the Tararuas. Which is really the point. In the space of 2 hours you can go from flat plains, through gently rolling lush farmland, and over vertiginous hill roads that sing a siren's song of cornering delight, tempered only by a niggling, vegetarian, abstinence endorsing, Anglican Vicar called Self-Preservation. But sometimes you round a corner, drift to a stop and there, apparently right in front of you, is a Mountain range shrouded in cloud and snow.

I live here, and still don't get enough of it. Griz, you pommy git, you can keep your simple slappers, interested only in a shag, a pint, and a life time of DPB, your drearily repetitive Dance parties in Ibiza, and your cheap package tours to the Aegean Islands, in search of hairy Greek slappers and cheap Ouzo. I get poetry every day.

Nyah.

[RantyDave]

Dude,

Fabulous. Full marks. Fark the UK.

Dave (ex-Essex boy)

[Storm]

Once again, you've said it better than I could. Well said that man

[boomer]

Summed up a treat - Im still a Pommie 'Norfern Munkey', but enjoying this beautiful country.

Nice work mate

[et al]

Good write-up, sounds like you had a great day - and I have learnt a new word: vertiginous. Thank You.

[Hitcher]

Tops! We had a great day in the Wairarapa too. But not as eloquent, even though the intercoms worked. Finally.

[jrandom]

broken up BLAT? I prefer mine in one piece.

...

anyways thank you, jim. Ive often wanted to say something similar, but it always comes out sounding sort of mean and badtempered.

you are the voice of the children of the revolution.

[El Dopa]

...dance clubs, vast shopping estates, aggressive neighbouring states...tower block apartments, tarts...

...morons whsoe entire existence is recreational drugs of the snorted, inhaled, imbibed, and swallowed variety, then rinse and repeat, who like pushing broken bottles into the faces of people who have no interest in fighting.

....simple slappers, interested only in a shag, a bacardi breezer, and a life time of DPB, your drearily repetitive Dance parties in Ibiza, and your cheap package tours to the Aegean Islands, in search of hairy Greek slappers and cheap Ouzo.

Fuck off you chav twats.

There's a reason we moved out here. And it was to get away from cocks like him.

[Mooch]

Home sick now ..... But very true. Can't say I'll miss the Pubs here when I leave as much as riding in NZ. Must be at least 500,000 Alex's in town on every Friday and Saturday

[2wheels in Red Beach]

I am a pommie git been ere five years now.
I do miss the pubs.
But the scenery and the friendly folk this side of the globe I much prefer.
New Zealand you rock (no pun intended)

[manuboy]

As Split Enz would say ... "(nz) you're a hard act to follow"

[Slingshot]

Geez...You're sounding more and more like Jeremy Clarkson every day. Rambling on about some totally unrelated shit and then tying it in with a report of your ride.

Nice write-up though.

[vifferman]

I liked it! Great stuff, JimNumberTwo!

[eliot-ness]

Your mate sounds like one of those beer swilling, P popping creeps that inhabit downtown city centres everywhere in the world, including Auckland and Wellington. Definitely not a biker. However, to classify the UK on his myopic vision of the good things in life is a little bit harsh. I spent the first 35yrs of my life in the Yorkshire Dales, an area where roads were built before the straight line was invented, where a days biking was 300 miles without using the same road twice. No mountains, but scenery as good as anywhere in the world. Winding river valleys followed by steep climbs to moorland where the odd sheep was the only thing you saw on the road. Country towns, no bigger than Warkworth, were the norm. Pubs didn't have juke boxes, maybe background music in some of the rowdier establishments, and an asprin was the strongest drug you could buy outside the chemists. Good times, and still not much different. More traffic now but nothing to attract the city creeps intent on living in their own drug induced dreamworld. If, as happens too often, you base your knowledge of a whole country on "Eastenders' or 'Coronation Street' or the misguided ravings of some brain dead moron with no respect for life, then you can write off the rest of the world and hide away in your own little corner. Or, if you can't make the trip and find out for yourself what other countries have to offer, do a bit of research. Get the AA guide to Great Britain and see just how much there is outside London or the other main centres.
You will be surprised.
Incidentally. I've been in NZ 31 years so I think I can make a fair comparison. Love it here, wouldn't go back, not for any of the reasons stated in Jims post. Simply because I'm quite capable of making my own lifestyle, wherever I live.

[James Deuce]

Errr - Eliot, if you read the post you'll see that he was a workmnate of mine, while I was in the UK. I do get it. Anywhere North of the Watford Gap is absolutely fine in terms of people, scenery, and attitudes. Living in Southampton highlighted just how bigotry and "racism" isn't about colour, but about the perceived quality of the Country and Culture one originates from, and the preceived place in the world that those looking down their nose have.

Learned to deal with it eventually.

I still like France better than the UK though. They have a wicked sense of humour, and were far more respectful. To most people in the UK I was JAFK. In France we regularly got ushered to the head of queues, got free stuff, and generally had a smiley time.

Mr Wylie's attitude was pretty representative of anyone under 30 in the South of the UK, irrespective of chemical addiction.