It simply doesn't get much more aussie than this. Today we went out to Kens farm (Ken is one of craigs friends... Dude just built his own gyrocopter and is planning to be the first one to travel around the world in one)
Anyways, we got up at like six and jumped in Craigs range rover ('we' now also included Craigs brother in law, Robert, and Robs son Jackson). Really great guys, but then again, all aussies seems to be.
Stopped for breakfast at McD and continued heading north. After like another hour we arrived at Far, Far away. Yeah, thats the actual name of his all-male sanctuary. Belive me when i say, it was a guy place. He had ATVs, motorbike, golf carts, massive sports car all over the place and enough wilderness in his farm to lose yourself completely. There was alcohol in quantities so vast you'd kill an elephant if it drank it all. When you first came in you just saw carbatteries and other mechanical parts lying around, the concrete floor dusty and sandy from all the shoes that had trampled through since the last vaccuming (read:never). Behind the bar counter he had a ful keg of beer, half a dozen bottles of spirit hanging upside down and a spray can of engine grease. The entire place had the perfect rural, dirty, gritty feeling you'd expect from an australian bush shack. And it was perfect.
First I rode around for hours on the motorbike, up the hills, around the trees, over all the rocks. Then we got down to lunch time and had australian meat-pies with gin and tonic to drink and after that, the game was on. If british value their cricket and Sweden value football (the real version) australia sure loves their football, so we watched the Adelaide Crows kick the Geelong Cats for like 2 hours. A few hours of just chilling out and we hit the hot tub. Oh yeah, there may not have been another house for as far as you could see, but he had a gas heated hot tub with jet streams.
For way longer than I care to recall we sat there and drank wine 'til we had a fantastic dinner that Ken made. The steaks was roughly as thick my wrist and as big as my hand. Just try to picture that, look at your own wrist and hand and picture a steak that size.
We sat up for a few hours more, watching old music videos on both a projector and a big-ass tv.
Crashed down in my bunk by half past eleven, still with the taste of red wine on my lips.
Gauls invented the egg clock