Neighbours, for those who are neither British or are younger than twenty five, is an Australian soap opera of some renown. It follows the American template for soap operas (pretty people overcoming ludicrous problems) as opposed to the British (ugly people overcoming problems marginally less ludicrous), it's served as a starting point for more than a few Ozzie talents such as Guy Pearce, Kylie Minogue and Natalie Imbruglia and it is utterly naff. My understanding is that it only ever found a modest audience in its native country, but when they exported it back to the mother country we poms went absolutely mental for it. This was mainly due to a canny bit of scheduling. The show was broadcast in the dead hour between the end of CBBC and the time that most people had their tea. This being in the days before we had hundreds and hundreds of digital channels to choose from, it therefore had a captive audience of tweens and early adolescents who lapped up whatever twaddle Toadfish, Lou and the rest were getting up to this week, confident that Ramsay Street in that Erinsborough was the most glamorous place in the world*. The audience demographic and the easy on the eye cast also meant that Neighbours also served as a sexual awakening for more than a few young men and women and part of the reason we were going was to give Bob a chance to wiggle his eyebrows at Libby Kennedy.
Like most people, the last time I watched the show Bill Clinton was still regarded as a loving family man and I wasn't feeling that enthused. The fact that the venue was half full with housewives and studenty types didn't help either. An over excited Irishman bounced around a stage, telling us we were about to have the night of our lives, which seemed a bit optimistic to me. After a few drinks, however, the stick up me arse shifted slightly and I began to enjoy myself. The lovely Libby didn't show (perhaps forewarned about Bob's eyebrows), but her dad, Dr Karl (or Alan Fletcher, as he insisted on being called), did along with an attractive young man and woman who are apparently a couple on the show and looked like they would rather be anywhere else. They did a Q & A and then wandered round the room, asking us if we'd like a picture with them. I now have a photo of me and the anonymous actress. Needless to say, I look fantastically awkward; partly because I detest having my photo taken, partly because the young lady in question is undoubtedly very beautiful and my Mr Potato Head mug is always going to suffer in comparison, but mainly because I didn't have the first fucking clue who she was and she blatantly thought that I did.
The evening culminated with several competitions of the and a quiz. We won a tour around the neighbours set. Which was great. I suppose. The tour consisted of us driving at paedophile cruising speed past the school that used to double for Erinsbrough High School, another Q & A with another actress who I didn't recognise and about half an hour stood at the end of Ramsay Street (In reality it's called Pin Oak Court) waiting to see if they would let us up to have a peek at Harold Bishop's old house (they didn't) and trying not to look bored (we failed). I'm very relieved we didn't pay any money.
The great ocean road tour on Tuesday was much more edifying. The road was a government infrastructure project initiated to link the various coastal communities of Victoria and to provide work for the thousands of squaddies returning from WW1. The road is noteworthy - the logistical dificulties involved in it's construction aside, for winding through some of the most spectacularly beautiful countryside Australia - or indeed the world - has to offer. Every few kilometers there are limestone and sandstone rock formations, most stunning. I also spent money that I don't have on a helicopter ride over the twelve apostles - which was probably the most fun I've had with me pants on for quite some time. Also - you lucky, lucky people - I have finally come to terms with the fact that the camera that I brought with me is not going to miraculously fix itself. So I've bought a new one and can therefore bore you with the various pictures what I gone done took:
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| The Grotto. Where Santa lives. |
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| The 12Apostles. If you noticed that there are less than 12 of them, congratulations you win a jelly bean |
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| Bob at Loch Ard Gorge. Moments later he went for a bit plodge. |
We were also lucky enough to find ourselves part of a very lively tour group. Jude, our Aussie guide, was a lovely, personable woman, who was a mine of interesting facts and anecdotes about the various sites and did a great job of geeing everybody up. There was a definite sense of camaraderie within the group and Bob and three German girls (Bia, Liane and Katie) arranged to go to a AFL game the following day - I was invited, but had romance related duties to attend to. By all accounts they enjoyed themselves, despite the fact that none off them were sure of the rules. We saw Bia and Liane a couple more times; first on a failed penguin hunting expedition, at a comedy club (or Bob did. I was again occupied elsewhere) and yesterday at the museum of moving images. They depart on their own separate journeys today. They are lovely girls and I wish them all the best and hope that their futures include nothing but nice things, like flowers and puppies.
My date on Tuesday went well. Well enough that I've spent the majority of the week with her. I can't escape the feeling that if I wasn't leaving this might have been the start of something. But I am. So it is. This has bummed me out slightly. But - he says, trying to put a positive spin on things - I'm lucky to have met and spent time with her.
We sail to Devonport in Tasmania later today. Everybody tells us we're going to freeze our nuts off and have a bastard of a time finding work. I have no reason to doubt they speak the truth.
Love and Fishes
Dave Denton
* Additional fun Neighbours fact! Many people mistakenly believe that the national anthem of Australia is 'Waltzing Matilda'. This is wrong. The national anthem is in fact the theme tune for everybody's favourite daytime soap, with the word "neighbours" changed to "Australians". Try it. It sounds so right.
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