Setting New Goals

 

It’s not very often that your humble scribe gets to score goals – being a goalkeeper tends to mean that the occasional foray up front is as rare as the Yangtze dolphin. Some claim it is extinct, and others claim perhaps there are one or two still around.

 

So when we headed to Taichung for the annual tournament there, I was expecting the usual goalkeeping role, but el capitan told me he was injured, so I had to go up front on the first day. With just 11 players, we had merely a scratch squad, and any injuries picked up would have to be worried about another time.

 

To the first game then, and your humble chronicler had arrived on time by Suzuki, deciding to ride down in the warm spring sunshine. We were up against the old foe, the Scum of the Earth, the Taipei Animals. And wouldn’t you know it – we dominated from the start, getting a lucky goal as the defender tried to clear the ball, only to hit it straight on to our attacker, the ball rebounding, looping over the stranded keeper, and in to the net. 1-0 Lions, and life was good.

 

And it got better. I had seen a little of the ball, not done much with it – pretty much par for the course for me, but then I ran to try to get the ball which was passed to me, turned and all of a sudden I had 2 or 3 metres over the defender who was marking me. Alas being a slow bastard meant that those few precious metres were swiftly eaten up, so there was nothing left to do but give him a good old shoulder barge. As I had never done this before, I could end up looking like a right plonker, but I got the timing perfect, and he was knocked away, giving me time and space to pick out a spot to place it away from the advancing Scum goalie.

 

I slotted the ball towards the far post, and then watched in super slo-mo as the ball bobbled and trickled its’ way in to the net. 2-0. Damn. And I scored????

 

That was effectively the end of my contribution. I was knackered. We ended up conceding 2, including a very dubious last minute equaliser, with a clear foul on our goalie, but a creditable 2-2 draw, and a goal for me. Very shagadelic.

 

Much more recently, I arranged a friendly game for the Lions against my other team, the Mighty Shane.  The pitch I chose was out of the way, more than just a little bit, for the vast majority of the players, with the exception being me. The rain was falling as everyone met, and then jumped in to cabs to get to the pitch, but as we started the game, it had cleared up a little.

 

The first two touches I had were picking the ball out of the net as we fell behind 2-0, but then in an amazing turnaround, the Red Lions were suddenly level and then pulling away. In the end, it turned out to be a romp, and I was substituted with just a few minutes left to give the Volksmeister a quick go in goal. As the game neared the end, one guy limped off injured and so I went back on. And wouldn’t you know it? I passed the ball out to the Polish Rob, who went past one or two players, and crossed it in to the far post where I was waiting, unmarked, to rise like a salmon with a diving header.

 

But mine was not the most amazing feat of the day – one of the Lions, Timmah, scored an amazing 7 goals. Now he usually scores with his knee or stomach, but today was just his day, with every shot being a sweet one. Needless to say he was dropped from the starting line up for the next league game!

 

A couple of years ago I was losing the passion slightly for playing football, but with the Bangkok tournament coming up, the passion I back! And hopefully the form will be there as well!

Not the comfy chair

 

Last year, the Taipei Red Lions celebrated the 25^th anniversary by having a competition and a piss up and party. It was supposed to be a weekend of footballing fun, but turned out to be a wash out. Thanks to a typhoon coming in, the pitches that HAD been booked were now no longer available, so contingency plans had to be made. This ended up with a day of a kick around on a plastic pitch, where we train in Shi Pai, followed by a rather shambolic piss up on a pub crawl that you could really only join if you were there at the start, and then on the Sunday the mini tournament at the crappy pitches in Dazhi. After this, the dinner at our sponsors, Carnegies, where the team was not sitting together, but rather in places here and there all over the joint.

 

Following the event, several things started to go wrong, with rebellion in the air, troops deserting and general discontent. Rumours here, counter-rumours there. It was all very nasty. People would talk to me – I’m sorry… but did I give you any indication that any of this was interesting to me? – telling me their side of the story. Come on… I hate politics (in this sort of situation anyway).

 

Our lord and master of the time was not happy with the way he had handled things, and so decided to resign as chairman of the Red Lions, waiting for the start of the new season to hand over the reigns. I offered – in private – to help out, and said that if there were no other candidates for the job, then I would also offer myself as candidate. Time passed, the season started, and I was asked to look after the organisation of the Red Lion trip to Kaohsiung for the annual winter tournament there.

 

It was not said at the time but I got the feeling that the success or failure of this would determine whether or not I would be accepted as nominee for chairman. Whereas I am not the most humble person in the world, I do try not to blow my own trumpet too much, so let it just be said for the record that things went smoothly – I sorted out the high speed rail down for the boys, I was helped out with the hotel by one other Red Lion who works for a hotel chain, and so whether or not I did a good job, I looked good. After all, perception is 90% of everything.

 

Around Christmas, the vote came in – people were asked to nominate who they felt should be chairman, and merely by default, your humble chronicler became chairman of the Taipei Red Lions Football Club. 6 people were nominated, 5 people said they had no time/desire to do the job, and so no 2^nd round of voting was required. It was a done deal. Some people say fix, claiming irregularities at the polls, but in the words of Robert Mugabe, the Red Lions ARE MINE!

 

So immediately there have been a few small, but significant changes in what is happening. I work it as I would in business, with communication being the key factor. We have designated Carnegies days, which are determined (by me) weeks in advance, so instead of after the match someone proposing we (as a team) head to the pub for a beer, those with families (and there are ever more of them) now know that there is a certain date, so they can plan their month in advance. Small stuff, but helpful nonetheless.

And with the Easter tournament in Bangkok just a few weeks away, you know what I’ll be up to. Oh – and of course, I still play!

Kitty. Shitty.

 

After the game on Friday I headed home, got showered, then tonked off to Carnegies for a beer or three. The evening wore on, lots of fun had by all, and then I zoomed home, where I gave the kitty a scratch on the head, and sat at the computer for a while.

 

Kitty then decided she wanted to go outside to take a look, something she regularly does, around the stairwell. Normally she goes out, looks around, sniffs around, and comes home within 1 or 2 minutes. So after 10 or 20 minutes when she still had not returned I went looking for her. No sign of her. I called her, but no response.

 

I shut down the computer, and got ready for bed, but before I went, I called and had a look again. Nothing. Very strange.

 

I live in a secure building, where it is safe to leave your front door open, so I did, just to let the kitty back in whilst I slept. But I hardly slept a wink, getting up in my dressing gown to go out and search for her. But still no sign.

 

And even today – almost 36 hours on – she has not returned.

 

There are 4 things that could have happened to her:

 

1.       She got lost and confused and disoriented. Has happened before, but she usually miaows to let me know where she is.

2.       She was taken by someone in the building who will return her (I have put “kitty missing” posters in the elevators, so let’s see if anything comes from that.

3.       She was taken by someone, and sold to a pet store. Apparently there is a thriving trade in Taiwan for such things, usually dogs though.

4.       She knew it was time for her to depart this life, and wanted to do it with dignity, away from me.

 

All I know is that I miss my kitty. And I don’t think I will ever see her again. If she was stolen though, and I find out who it was, someone is going to have a visit to the hospital after suffering some cracks in his/her legs from being smacked by a baseball bat.

 

If she has truly gone from this earth, then she was the most wonderful kitty a man could wish for.

 

So I was about to post this to the blog, 4 days had gone by without the kitty, and having shed tears and let all my close friends (especially those who love the kitty) know what had happened, there was a twist to the tail. Pun intended.

 

I got home from football training, having taken the MTB in as I am injured and can not really practice. I got home, put on a pan of soup and sat down to watch CSI: New York. I heard something outside my front door. I was not sure I should believe my ears – I had heard the kitty so many times, even though she was – of course – not there. So I turned off the TV, and there it was – loud and unmistakable. The kitty had returned, a little dazed, a little musty…. smelling as though she had slept in a dusty box the past few days.

 

Last night though she slept on the bed with me, cuddling up and purring, obviously happy and relieved to be home. I have no idea where she has been, but it matters nothing. What is important is that the kitty has made it home!

Ox

Gong Xi Fa Cai. Happy Lunar New Year.

Apparently for many people, the Ox Year will be a tough one. Typical then that those born in the Year of the Monkey (such as myself) are not predicted to have such a tough time as those born in other years. In fact, predicted for me is the more I travel, the more money I will make. Now all I have to do is persuade El Presidente to get the products ready so I can head out to all corners of the Earth to sell our stuff, and make that wonga.

I had not been to the temple for some time, so I went for a short time to the Tai Tien Temple on Guanyin Shan. I like this temple - the people there seem to like me as well, as they welcomed me back, saying "hao jiou bu jin" - long time no see. So my bai bai was a little interrupted - I hope the spirits and ancestors understand that was not my fault. As the incense smoke swirled in to my lungs, I asked for protection during these tough times for my family, friends and loved ones, and hoped that they would guide me through this year.

I headed down to Hsinchu on the Sunday evening - which was New Year's Eve in the Lunar calendar - after cooking soup and curry, just in case there were not enough veggie things available for me, that Linn's sister in law prepared/ordered. The plan was for me to stay until Tuesday, after which Linn would go to the south of Taiwan with her friends, and I would tonk back to Taipei County. It did not - of course - work out like that.

It was an honour to have been invited down, and spend the festivities with her family. They have treated me so well over the last year, and that comes as somewhat of a surprise, given the reputation that Caucasian men have over here. I have pretty much been welcomed in to the family, despite various issues and reservations that certain members of the family have about me.

I got to the family apartment, and it was cold. We watched some TV, played with the baby for a while, ate masses of mushroom-based veggie meat dishes, so my curry was left in the fridge for another time, until I was stuffed, much like a mushroom, and then we went for a walk through the city, where half the population was shopping still, the other half playing with fireworks and crackers! IT'S A CRACKER! I was surprised at how many shops were open - with the Lunar New Year festivities being such a family-oriented time, I would have thought there would be more people spending time with their families than actually was the case. Perhaps the Chinese culture is changing more rapidly than I thought. Such a shame it is not in the right way.

After walking and talking for maybe an hour or so we decided to go to Nanliao (see post passim) which is right on the coast and has a harbour area, to watch the fireworks. By the time Linn had made it upstairs though, her short-term memory had forgotten all about it, and so we didn't.

The bed I slept in was uncomfortable, and hurt my back, so my sleep that night was broken and I woke up the next morning in more than just a little pain, deciding at that time to return home that evening. I have become used to the comfort of my own bed, especially since buying the new mattress last year, which is mega comfortable and gives me painless nights of sleep.

The plan for the day was to head to Nanjuang, a town on the border of Hsinchu and Miaoli counties, which was famous for having an old movie theatre (or cinema!) and an old market. Figuring that the traffic would be bad, we took the Skywave, which turned out to be a great idea. With kilometre after kilometre of cars travelling at single digit km/h, we weaved through and got to Nanjuang in pretty much quick time, found a place to park and took a walk around, in to the market, to the temple, where Linn decided to talk, thus interrupting my opportunity to bai bai. Another chance came later though.

We continued walking, testing all the different teas and ginger candies and stuff that the locals were selling to unwitting tourists. I bought a pack of ginger candy for me, and another one for the mother, knowing how she likes ginger. A propos, when I was on a Cebu Pacific flight some time ago, I met this young lady named Ginger - a flight attendant - who was wondering what book I was reading. As I had just finished it, I handed it to her so she could read it too. She was nice. I like Ginger. And ginger.

We then decided to take a ride up towards Lions Head Mountain, which we did not make, because your humble chronicler decided to take a couple of adventurous turns, on to roads that went ever higher in to the mountains, and thus also the clouds. We found sakura trees in blossom, which would have been even more beautiful had the sky been blue and cloudless. By this time hunger was setting in and so we looked for signs of a place where we could eat. We made it to the end of the road and had a choice of up or down the mountain. I chose up, higher in to the clouds, up the steep slope, which the Suzuki did not like too much.

This turned out to be a great decision. Ending up in a small village, it seemed like hundreds of people had all had the same idea - because there are two temples there, so we parked the bike once more, and I headed to the temple, got some incense, and did my bai bai. The temple was for the gods of the kitchen, and with Et starting his own business soon, I asked the spirits for help for him, as well as to protect the people who eat food I make and prepare.

There were a few roadside restaurants on the other side of the road, so I headed towards them, hoping there would be something veggie for me, not realising that I was walking straight towards a veggie place. Class. I know the character for vegetarian (素食) but this was in a font I could not really read well. We ordered some soup, fried rice and stinky tofu, which was awesome.

After lunch we headed back down the mountain, in to Judong, where I decided we would not go home just yet, but instead turned south towards Beipu, where I was hoping we could get a cup of tea or something. Linn is a big tea drinker, and it was time for some liquid. Half of Hsinchu county was also in Beipu (the other half being up the mountain) and so we found a place to park, only to be asked by the old man who lived in the house there that he did not like us parking there, despite the fact that there was a car right in front of me which had parked. Idiot. So I found another place. No worries.

The market was selling a load of stuff - the smells of so many things wafted through the air, nice pleasant smells, sweet smells, stinky smells, all combining in to a melange - but we were after persammons which seemed to be rather expensive. We tried negotiations, but no one was interested, although they gave us free samples to taste. Nom nom nom!

Having walked around the town we found a tea house that looked tiny from the outside, and massive from within. I had a caramel milk tea, which was more milk than tea, and certainly not in Cafe Monet's league (see posts passim). There was also a temple which had an entertainer, a one-man Chinese band, who was rather amusing, for about a minute.

The buildings in this town were old and traditional, and despite being dirty, it was almost like being taken back to the birth of Taiwan as a nation. Finally we found some persammons that were acceptable in price (I also tried to get something for free, but the vendor was having none of it) so we got 3 packs, and also some Aboriginal orange sauce, which apparently goes well with chicken, so I will try it with my veggie chicken.

Then it was back to Hsinchu for dinner with Linn's family - Thai curry being heated up - before the ride back to Taipei County. All in all it was a wonderful experience - there are so many places in Taiwan that just ooze tradition, and all the places we went to on the Monday reinforced the love I have for this country.

Gong Xi!

Wedding Balls

 

So not being able to get to South Africa for Et and Brigitte’s wedding was a major disappointment, but I was determined to send a message for the wedding. I wrote a mail to the guys at the National Park, who had done all the reservations, asking if they could pass on the message for this weekend. After the weekend, I got a mail asking me which camp they were in. This called for a sarcastic reply, which was duly sent.

 

Congratulations to Brigitte and Etienne on their marriage! May you have many happy and healthy years together. I love you both! In the most non-threatening (Brigitte) and non-gay (Et) way possible.

 

Here’s what I wrote – just for the record:

 

Brigitte and Etienne

Despite the disappointment of not being able to be there with you to celebrate this most special of days, we both send you our best wishes for a lifetime of love and happiness together. We’re looking forward to seeing you back here in Taiwan, and wish you both a wonderful wedding day, and a fantastic time back home in South Africa.

We miss you

Linn and Rob

 

Some time ago, Linn and I headed to a wedding in Nanliao, just east of Hsinchu City, where some of Linn’s friends were celebrating their marriage. I rode down on the Skywave, with my suit inside, so I could change and look mega handsome, as I always do in my Boss suit, when I got down. Of course I was on time, and so we got to the restaurant where the party was being held perfectly on schedule. Nice one.

 

By the time we had arrived though, the husband (or perhaps bf) of one of her friends had already left in a huff, having had an argument with Linn’s friend. As other friends trickled in, I kept quiet, looking forward to the culinary delights of this seafood restaurant. Here in Taiwan, even if you are in a seafood restaurant, they can still do veggie stuff, and with the married couple fully aware of my weird eating habits, veggie food aplenty was expected.

 

There was  soup, and a rice dish, and some veggies, all served in small dishes, accompanying the large dishes that the meat eaters got. But after 3 rounds, Linn asked the server for the next veggie dish, only to be told that because I was such a fat boy, they reckon I should go on a diet, and therefore there are no more veggie dishes.

 

More and more meat and seafood dishes were brought out, and I was still hungry. What the hell was going on? I did not kick up a fuss, and I also did not ask for something else. I just went hungry. As the party wore on, time running out as there was another party expected for the afternoon/evening session, we decided to leave, and head out in to the warm summer sunshine, have a look around and try to find something for me to eat. We drove in Linn’s motor, but could not find anything really that was to my liking, ie vegetarian.

 

We drove out to Judong, where we found an interesting concoction being offered – a scallion pie with cheese. Sounded interesting. Give me one of those, I said. So off Linn went (after receiving finance) and got it, whilst I waited in the car, having made a slightly illegal parking manoeuvre. Delicious, was the verdict.

 

Heading back towards Hsinchu, we made a slight detour to have a look at a lake area, which was very nice, where we also found a café, which would also have been nice, but they were closing and did not really have time for us to drink anything, but we were invited to take a look at the setting, next to the lake and woodland.

 

The following week, Linn spoke with her friend to tell her that we were not pleased with the lack of vegetarian fare, and the next time she gets married she had better make sure of better, and more, food otherwise I am not going. Of course, she did it in the Chinese way, but my way is much better.

 

One thing’s for sure, if and when I ever get married (and that is a VERY big IF) there will be no one leaving thinking “that food was not very good.” Not leaving alive anyway.

Local Rules

 

During Exeter’s time in the Blue Square Premier League, much was said and written about the incompetence of the referees. However nothing could quite compare with the blatant cheating that takes place here in Taiwan. The top league which will arrange a complete season’s schedule around the every wish of the local team, FIFA accredited referees who make foul decisions based on a cry of “aiii” every time the foreigner opponent comes within 5 metres of him or, who will be fair until half time when the locals go and have a word to get a foreigner sent off.

 

For the first time in 16 years, a non-Taiwanese team won the Business Man’s League, a league so full of double standards that it allows team whose players are 26 years old or over, and also a team of high school kids. Taipei City was a break off from the Taipei Animals, fierce rivals to the Red Lions, for whom your humble chronicler plays, and they had managed to acquire some of the best footballing talents on the island.

 

It came down to the wire, with the top 2 teams meeting on the last day, level on points, with Taipei City needing to win to lift the championship.  A 2-1 victory gave them the league win, and so they decided to apply for promotion (which does not come automatically) – whereby they would, if successful, become the first non-Taiwanese team in the top league.

 

Taiwan’s football authorities were obviously not prepared for this, but they soon worked out how to make sure that the top division would remain only for Taiwanese teams. They arranged a play-off between the bottom 4 teams and Taipei City, announcing the schedule to City 2 days before the opening game.  They lost 5-1, followed by a 7-0 defeat.

 

With City losing their goalkeeper during the 3 or 4 month break between the end of the season and the play-offs, this was quite possibly one of the reasons for the heaviness of the losses. After the second game though, your humble scribe was called up and asked to help out between the sticks for the third game.

 

At 2-0 down, we had a goal disallowed for off-side, despite the cross coming in from the wing going backwards, but then we did get on the scoresheet, the referees and linesmen obviously messing up as they could find no reason to disallow it. They got their act together in the second half though, with 3 yellow cards for the non-Taiwanese team, despite not even being fouls. Oh, and we also conceded 3 more, including one blatantly off-side goal.

 

So to the final game, a must-win for both teams. But the result had already been decided. Alas it wasn’t helped by a comical piece of defending after merely 40 seconds, our central defender turning this way, turning that way, turning back the first way, then getting completely confused and giving the ball to the on-coming attacker who slotted the ball in to the corner. 1-0, and a mountain to climb. And of course, these mountains are made even harder when you have referees blowing for a foul every time a Taiwanese person asks for one. Or every time the team manager screams from the sidelines that he has not had a foul for at least 30 seconds, and so the ref should blow now.

 

With the second half coming to a close, and City 3-0 down, the referee banged the final nail in to the proverbial coffin. A foul, which could or could not have been given, was blown up, the defender shown a straight red card. This was a sign to the team that they were never have to have been allowed to be promoted, and should not apply for the top league ever again. Chinese/Taiwanese face had been saved – the foreigners had been beaten, the top division was still full of Taiwanese teams.

 

With the Stamp Racism out of Football and Fair Play Please campaigns going strong across Europe, and elsewhere around the world, it is sad to see that this is not adhered to over here in Taiwan. Of course, the fact that City had fielded an ineligible goalkeeper for the play-offs doesn’t count.

Bangkok Eight. Phuket Sevens.

 

After flying in to Bangkok Rob and I headed to the hotel, just a few minutes drive from the airport. We headed to the 7-Eleven where a ladyboy refused to sell us alcohol, as it was past midnight. 3 minutes past, apparently. So we went to get some food from one of the stalls nearby, and got a couple of bottles of ice cold Singha to wash it down. Instead of my usual Thai vegetable curry, I had some noodles – managing successfully to explain that I do not eat meat or fish. The noodles were so good, I ate some more. I was stuffed. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last.

 

The next morning we got up fairly early and headed over to the airport on the hotel shuttle, before checking in to the Bangkok Airways flight down to Phuket. We picked up some brekkie – Rob eating, but your humble scribe settling for a coffee – and then headed to the gate. The old 717-200 was a relic from yesteryear, and I wondered if it would make it to the destination of Phuket. Initial concerns seemed grounded as we got close to the runway and then turned back because of a “problem”. But it was nothing like the problem that hit Bangkok airport later that day.

 

The plane took off after a quick return to the terminal building, and after a sandwich on the plane (meaty one, so the sandwich was solely for Rob), we landed in Phuket. We took the taxi over to the hotel in Patong Beach, and checked in. Wow – what a class choice. The Deevana Patong resort is awesome. We may not have the best rooms in the house, but the whole place is simply fantastic. Full of trees, green spaces, hummingbirds and ponds.

 

We unpacked, and took the laptops to the front lobby so we could get on to the net. We watched a little TV, and saw pictures of Bangkok airport.

 

“Look,” I pointed, “we were just there. I wonder what that’s all about.”

 

We had no idea that it was going to affect everything quite as much as it did. Protestors took over the whole of the airport, grounding flights, and demanding the resignation of the government. And at the same time, paralysing the country’s economy – the tourist industry – by not allowing flights in or out. The Thai government screwed it all up as well, by not acting decisively.

 

And it completely bollocksed up the football tournament. With Dave and Dave stuck in Bangkok – they decided to play a round of golf – and the rest of the Mongrels supposed to fly in through the Thai capital, the core of the Mongrels team was not able to make it. Apparently around 20 teams of the 44 which entered the 7’s tournament were unable to field a team, and so pulled out. Rob and I were in contact with Dave, who told us we could play for another team, but we decided not to.

 

What we did do though was have a quick tour of the south of Phuket island, which was when it decided to rain. We headed to the beach, and swam a while, saw a sea eagle, tied to a pole, its’ new purpose in life to entertain tourists by having its’ photo taken with them, no longer allowed to soar over the ocean and catch fish.

 

We went out for dinner on the first night, and found a place that was ok, but not fantastic. On the way in we were accosted by some rather attractive Thai women, asking if we wanted massage. We did, but we wanted a couple of sherbets first, so we told them we would return. Like they have not heard that one before. But return we did.

 

After a nice, relaxing oil massage, we were suitably ready for some more sherbets, so we had a couple whilst browsing the net, the issues of Bangkok becoming clearer and clearer. By the Thursday we had found the best place in town to eat, which was a street place close to the hotel, and we also realised that we were not going to be playing football, so instead opted to go diving.

 

Walking along the road we found a tourist place with a load of brochures, which was where I saw the dive literature. Nice one.

 

“Where’s this mucker?” I asked. The guy pointed the shop to us, which was a mere 50 metres from where we were standing. Off we went, where we were greeted by some bloke from Stevenage who had sold his house in England some time ago, made a killing on it, and moved with his wife to Asia where taxes are low, standard of living is high, and the weather great. Add to that the fact that being a diving instructor is a hell of a lot less stressful than working in the City, and you have several reasons to move away from the UK and over to Thailand. The fact that there are also many beautiful women had – in this guy’s case at least – absolutely nothing to do with it.

 

We booked a day of diving for the Friday, Rob saying he would not touch a beer that evening, and the instructor laughing at him, saying it’s ok for “one or two”. This obviously was enough for Rob to change his mind, and so – after another excellent meal at our favourite roadside stall – we headed back to the hotel, where I watched some TV and Rob went back to the lobby to get on the net.

 

Alas this was his downfall. The next morning  at 7:15 I knocked on his door, and it was plain to see that beer had been his companion the previous evening. And not just “one or two”. One or two dozen is much closer to the reality of things.

 

“It was happy hour, and the girl kept bringing me beers,” Rob tried to explain. Yes mucker – I am sure you tried so hard to tell her no, you didn’t want any more.

 

The dive shop picked us up at 7:30, and we drove down to the harbor, where we got on the boat, Rob not looking good at all. Some would say he is an ugly bastard at the best of times, but I would not personally make such suggestions. My personal point is that the alcohol did him no favours.

 

Having never been diving before, he had chosen the “discover diving” course, whereby newbies would get 2 dives in shallow water, whilst the more experienced of us would head to the deeper waters. Whilst Rob went off for a quick schooling on the basics of diving, your humble scribe started talking to the guy sitting next to him, a Dutch guy by the name of Gerard. We seemed to get on like a house on fire, and so it came to be that he became my dive buddy for the coming day.

 

We were dropped off first, and having checked all the equipment, and jumped in, the dive master gave us the let’s go sign, and so down we went. 2 metres below, I was getting a lot of water in through my breathing apparatus, so I told my dive buddy I needed to go back to the surface. Once up, I tried the other octopus, and down we went again. Only to have the same problem.

 

Back up to the surface, the dive master came over to me and checked – thinking obviously he is dealing with a fooking amateur. Yes mucker, there is certainly some amateur around, but it’s not me. My equipment was found to be faulty, and so we had to call the boat back. The diver in distress signal was made, which would – in any normal circumstance – be enough to make sure that a boat came to rescue or at least see what was going on. Phuket, however, is a place where normal circumstances fail to apply. It took 15 minutes before a boat actually came over to us, and another 5 before OUR boat came to get us. They changed out my apparatus, and finally we were able to dive.

 

And very awesome it was too. Big bastard fish, an even bigger bastard eel, and lots of the usual suspects. Some fantastic colours, beautiful corals, mackerel schools…

 

We headed back to the surface, for once my air was not the first to run out, and boarded the boat. Rob was already dressed, having had enough. It wasn’t his thing.

 

Gerard and I had lunch, then got ready for the second dive. This time there were no hitches, and we got to see an octopus, which I had never seen before. On the 2^nd dive my air was the first to run out, despite my attempts to stay at lower depths than my comrades. Back on the boat it was beer o’clock. Except for Rob who at this time expressed that he was quitting beer.

 

Gerard and I arranged to meet up for dinner that evening, and we also had another guy from the Mongrels team who had arrived, driving in from Malaysia, so he also joined us. We met in the hotel lobby and went out to the place we always went for dinner. I called Rob and told him I had booked his favourite – spicy clams – and suggested he got his ass out there now. He did. Then he went back to the hotel to sleep it off, as Gerard, Jon and I went out to party.

 

With Gerard’s birthday being on the Saturday, I made sure that we saw his day in with a bang, the boss of the bar buying a round for everyone. Around 1 or 1:30 it was time for me to get back to the hotel, so off I staggered. Gerard and I met up again the next evening, to celebrate his birthday in style, getting a massage at the oily massage place, and having another nice dinner before going out for a few sherbets, and then heading to a night club where we boogied the morning in. We then headed back out for an early morning snack – snack being a full blown meal – before he jumped in to a taxi for his ride home, and I walked back to the hotel.

 

Sunday was the day Rob and I decided to see if we would be able to make it out of Thailand on the due date of Monday, and so we headed in to the airport. All flights that could take us somewhere from where we could get a connecting flight to Taipei were fully booked for the next 10 days, and despite the fact that we were confirmed on the EVA flight out of Pattaya the following evening, getting there (to Utapa, actually) was a seemingly impossible task.

 

I called up bus companies – full, taxi companies – too expensive, car rentals – no car coming in on time for a one way rental. Finally Rob got bored with the whole thing, and went for a lie down. I was not going to let this country beat me, and so went out for a walk to see if inspiration would hit me. I passed a travel agent on the way in to town, looking for a solution. I passed the same travel agent on the way back, not having found a solution.

 

“Dammit,” I thought to myself. “What have I got to lose?”

 

So in I went. The guy told me there was a flight for stranded passengers leaving the following day and suggested we got to the airport around 10:30 to be sure to get on. Nice one.

 

The next day at 9, Rob and I arrived at the airport, got on the flight with Bangkok Airways, which meant that the tickets we had with that airline were cancelled, and so we had to repay.

 

“The refund will be in your account in 45 days,” said the unhelpful lady at Bangkok Airways.

 

“How about I pay you in 45 days then?” I retorted. “Or you can pay me cash now, and I can give you the cash you give me for the flight for today.”

 

I knew it was futile, but sometimes a man has to let out his frustrations in such ways.

 

We had some time to kill, so we went in to the Thai Airways restaurant, ordered up some food and drink, watched TV, played on our respective laptops, and basically did bugger all for the next 5 hours until it was time to get on the plane.

 

We left Phuket, and touched down in Utapa just as it was beginning to get dark, the sun setting on another day, definitely shedding no light on the chaos that was waiting for us. An international flight had landed before us, and the passengers from that flight were standing in line as we pushed through them to the domestic arrival line. It was a disaster waiting to happen, as we were simply shepherded past the line of people waiting and in to the luggage claim area.

 

It was here that I saw an EVA Airways girl, so I told Rob to wait for the luggage, whilst I went to sort out the flight onwards. Soldiers guarding the so-called secure areas let EVA through, and I simply motioned I was with her, so they let me through too. After waiting in line for a while, and being told that we “SHOULD” be ok with getting on the flight (whereby I suggested to the ladies involved that I have a confirmed reservation on this flight, and so there is no “SHOULD” about it), I headed back the way I had come to help Rob with the luggage. Some time later it finally arrived, and so we headed over to EVA once more to sort out the boarding cards.

 

Now at any normal airport you have check-in counters, computers, luggage belts and so on. Not Utapa – a military airbase that also has merely a sprinkling of domestic flights each day. There was a hastily installed X-ray machine, where several hundred people were queueing. Some guy saw us looking at getting in to the line – after all, our flight was deep in preparation – and politely told us that the end of the queue was back that way, which was a long long way. Thankfully at that time another EVA girl walked past, so I asked her for assistance in getting through, and so we were brought to the front of the line, which I can only assume pissed all those we had just by-passed off immensely. But you snooze, you lose.

 

Finally we got through, and after waiting 30 or 40 minutes we were handed our hand-written boarding cards, and we were now told to wait in another line to get through in to security and passport control. Guarded by 2 unarmed Thai soldiers, they were completely unprepared for half of India and mainland China,  the Indians first of all charging their way through, and cutting in line, and then – just as Rob and I made it to the front – the Chinese all deciding that whereas Thailand was perhaps the Land of Smiles, it was most definitely not the Land of Politely Waiting in Line, and thereby launching a mass offensive by pushing through the double doors, the Thai soldier caught completely unaware.

 

Thankfully though, I was at the front and stopped myself from being pushed through the doors, so I turned around and told the mainlanders – with absolutely no effect – to slow down; they would be back in their thieving, Communist homeland soon enough. As I got through the door, the floodgates opened, as the rude mainland tossers not so much streamed through the doors as gushed. For several seconds the Thai authorities were overwhelmed, but soon enough the holding room as was full as a mainland China city, so no-one else could actually get in anyway.

 

Through the security checks, through the passport control, and in to the waiting room. A thousand people, all waiting for their planes, in a room that should ideally hold no more than 400 – 500. The trash was piled in to a corner, and a hastily arranged duty free shop catered to those who needed alcohol, and lots of it, in a short time to help them recover from the ideal they had just been put through. Rob and I got some Pringles, and something to drink before looking in vain for a place to sit,

 

We needn’t have worried though – not long after we had got through to the holding room, we were asked to board (no announcement, you understand) and finally we were on the plane. Apparently the plane had been on the tarmac for around 5 to 6 hours, with the passengers on board not allowed to get off (not that they would have wanted to, of course, had they known what awesome deals were no longer available at the duty free shop). Pity them most of all.

 

We took off, we landed, and finally I made it back to my Suzuki which had been parked at the airport for the previous 10 days, turned on the ignition and it fired up first time! Got to love the Skywave. Half an hour later I was cuddling a very dribbly kitty who was very, very pleased to see me. And not 20 minutes after that, I was showered and in bed for sleep, the kitty curled up next to me, purring loudly.

Christmas Ramblings

Merry Christmas. Yes it's been and gone, but it's still holiday time. Unless you're in Taiwan of course, where Christmas has yet to hit our imagination. Perhaps it's this affiliation with some Jewish kid they have not learnt about in their Buddhist classes, but for some reason, Christmas spirit lacks. Not that it is a bad thing - in this day of over-commercialised bull-poop, where the true spirit of Christmas has long been forgotten. Better to give than receive? Perhaps for the parents of wild children who will give anything to them just to keep them quiet. Why - after all - spend time with them and play with them like my parents did?

Our generation has grown up now, and the rat race has taken over. Long gone the playing football with the sons, the listening to daughters talk incessantly or taking them to horse riding. Today's children have all the material goods they could ever want, and none of the close relationships that they actually need.

I think my parents did a decent job with me. I was brought up to understand the difference between right and wrong. And I do. When I am doing something wrong, I know and understand that it is not right. Does not detract from the fun of it of course!

Being in Taiwan over Christmas is good for me - I don't have to celebrate, I don't have to do take part in some cultural celebration for a religion I want no part of. I don't even have to pretend. I can just get together with some friends, have a nice lunch, get back home and act as though it was any other day. Which - essentially - it is.

People in the west can have their Christmas celebration. Our neighbours to the south in the Philippines can have it too. The Koreans as well - all Christian nations. Their celebration is not the same as the over-commercial crap I grew up with, which no doubt has only become worse in the 17 years since I left.

The best thing about Christmas - FOOTBALL!

And the best thing about Christmas in Taiwan - a nice 1 week diving trip in Philippines! Very shagadelic!

Happy holidays.... and happy new year! See you in the next edition!

Digger

 

I took the mountain bike out for a spin, the sun shining in the sky, the summer coming to an end, and the lack of typhoons making riding every day pretty much an absolute pleasure. I had Pink Floyd on the MP3 player as I rode along to Danshui, and then upwards and onwards, my usual trip up to Da Tun Shan being modified slightly because I was not coming back the same way…. Oh no – I am heading out to Jinshan on the other side of the mountain and then heading home around the coast. 90 km. Just what a fat boy needs to justify extra ice cream to himself.

 

I got to Bei Hsin Chuang, and stopped for my usual Pocari drink, resting for just a few minutes as that cool liquid slid down my throat, refreshing me immensely in the sweltering heat. Typhoon – I believe – is definitely coming. I continued my way up the mountain road, the sweat dripping off me as the pedals reluctantly turned.

 

As I got to the 6 km marker on the road, I saw on the barrier stopping the crazy Taiwanese drivers from plummeting down the ravine to an almost certain death, caterpillars. Black caterpillars. Lots of black caterpillars. And when I say lots, I mean literally hundreds upon hundreds, all crawling along the top of the concrete barrier. Sweet, beautiful, black caterpillars. It was the most amazing sight.

 

I called up Linn to tell her what I was looking at, and she sounded less than excited but probably because she could not hear me very well, having to concentrate with work and my cellphone chose that moment to cut out, perhaps the sweat from my constant riding corroding the microphone.

 

I got to the top, and then headed down the other side. As I was about 8 km outside of Jinshan my phone rang, so I stopped the bike. I was pretty sure the guy calling would not want to hear the whoosh of the wind as I tonked down the slope at 50 km/h. Alas the mic cut out and I could not hear anything anyway, but when I hung up, I saw a family of monkeys, eating in the treetops.

 

I watched them for a moment, they watched me back. There was at least one juvenile eating as well – but unexpected because I did not know you find monkeys in Yang Ming national park. Now I do, though. People ask me regularly why I love Taiwan – it is moments in nature where you find something totally unexpected that make living here so special. Plus the food of course. And the girls!

 

I continued my ride down to Jinshan, and then around the coast, making it home in the late afternoon, just as the sun started to go down behind the mountains.

 

The next time I rode up the mountain, I stopped a little further up because I had just seen a marsh harrier, one of Taiwan’s birds of prey, perched on one of the trees. I watched it for several minutes, cars and bikes zipping past, oblivious to the beauty of nature that this island has to offer. Taiwan is a place that has so much, and even after 8 years of living here, it still surprises me from time to time. Feeling at home somewhere is a very comfortable feeling, and I am very pleased to feel right at home, here in Formosa.

World Exclusive: Taiwan Mongrels in Manila 6’s Shock

 

Full Monty Tour 2008, Manila, Monday 24^th November 2008

 

The Taiwan Mongrels arrived in Manila for the annual 6-a-side tournament, expecting their usual level of success (ie none), but inspired captain, Russell Curtis, surprised everyone both on and off the pitch initially by heading back to his hotel room at 7:30 on the Friday night, instead of leading the Mongrels around the bars and getting everyone absolutely legless.

 

Several Mongrels, confused by the lack of leadership, still managed to find their way to the bars in Burgos, and most of them made up for the fact that the captain was not around, by drinking enough for them and him combined. At the decided meeting time on the Saturday the Mongrels looked as ragged as the team name suggests, and having arrived at the pitches in a convoy of taxis, the excitement of being in Manila to play football seemed to overwhelm one (who shall remain anonymous) to puke up in a 7-eleven bag. Three times.

 

Strangely enough, the weather was cooler than usual, but the rain held off until the Mongrels hit the pitch for their opener against Seoul British in their Group A opener.  And when it rains in Manila, it rains big. The uneven pitch helped neither team as they battled to a 1-1 draw – Keelung Dave taking advantage of a slip by the defender to turn his man and coolly slot the ball home. Amazingly enough, as soon as the final whistle went the rain stopped, the Mongrels now looking even more ragged, but confident about the next games having secured an unexpected point, and their first Manila goal in 2 years.

 

The second game was against hosts Manila Nomads, and after going 2-0 down, the fight back began, with Polish Rob firing in from a tight angle, and it was game on. Alas deep in to the second half the Nomads scored once more, the game ending 3-1. For the final Mongrels group game against another very strong team, the Mongrels battled hard, an equalizer from Keelung Dave in almost a carbon-copy of his first putting the opponents under pressure before going down 2-1. Out of the Cup, the Mongrels made 3^rd place, and had the early game on the Sunday.

 

Would this affect the partying of the Mongrels? Hell no – Mongrels are party dogs first and foremost, footballing comes far down that list of priorities.

 

An untypically empty Burgos Street was populated pretty much solely by a bunch of ugly, overweight Germans and the Taiwan Mongrels. Other teams seemed to have tucked themselves in bed nice and early. A few of Swiss Kickers Tokyo were reportedly seen in Rascals Bar, but other teams were conspicuous by their absence. The Mongrels, however, roamed in packs up and down the street, partying until the late hours of the early morning.

 

Sunday came, and the expectations were low. A 10 AM kick off meant that a win against the opponents would see the Mongrels tied up against Carnegies. What motivation more was needed? Arriving almost 2 hours before kick off, The Rock’s strategy to beat all the Christians going to church on a Sunday morning seemed to have worked wonders.

 

The opponents, Sunday Boys from Hong Kong, had been absolutely massacred in their group games, 7-0, 9-0 and 6-0. The return to the hotel for relaxation and beers by the pool would have to wait, it was thought. And the Mongrels duly delivered a 3-0 thumping, all goals coming in the first half. Rob in goal was seen sending SMS’s from his cellphone, getting a massage, and dipping in to an ice-cold beer such was the possession of the Mongrels. Polish Rob scored twice, with Dom scoring the third, a goal of comedic value as the ball trickled towards the goalkeeper before bobbling above him and in to the net.

 

The first major shock of the tournament for the Mongrels on the pitch – their first win in Manila for 2 years! But more was to come…

 

So to Carnegies, and a little pre-match banter, and Mongrels keeper Rob reminded everyone on the opposing team of the Gonzalez-esque howler made by the Carnegies keeper in the game against the Swiss Kickers Tokyo the previous day.

 

“Oh, you saw that huh?” came the sheepish reply.

 

“Yes mucker – I saw it! It made my own howler in Kaohsiung look good.”

 

Russell’s pre-match talk consisted of how many rounds needed to be bought for each step-over and for each comedy dive, pure inspiration from the man. Confidence oozed from Carnegies, perhaps a hint of arrogance? This could explain why Carnegies failed to trouble the Mongrels goal too much, the Rock steady in defence. The game ended goalless, but not step-over or comedy-diveless, and so it headed to 3-on-3 golden goal extra time. The four minutes failed to produce a goal, so sudden death penalties arrived.

 

With Captain Curtis choosing Keelung Dave as the keeper in the 3-on-3, it was down to him to go between the sticks, but first came Polish Rob’s penalty – slotted nicely to the keepers left as he dived the wrong way. 1-0 Mongrels.

 

Up stepped the Carnegies player, sending Keelung the wrong way as well. 1-1.

 

Captain Marvel was next up, scoring a powerful drive. But the referee had not blown his whistle, and so he had to retake. The goalkeeper had obviously not seen where Russell had hit it the first time, remaining still as the Mongrels Captain shot a carbon copy of the first penalty. With Carnegies missing the second penalty – placing it wide of the posts – the Mongrels progressed to the semi-final of the plate. Giddying heights, as the players shaked hands, Carnegies Captain Casper looking almost as dazed as he had the previous day after his all-night bender on the Friday.

 

So to the semi-final against hosts Manila Nomads Braves, aka the Nomads 2^nd team. Expectations once again were low, as were energy levels, as the Mongrels took the field. Almost immediately Polish Rob scored his 4^th of the tournament as he blasted a powerful drive past the stranded keeper. But this woke up the opponents who went and replied almost instantly and then piled on the pressure, forcing Rob in goal to make a string of saves before being beaten with the last kick of the half to go in 2-1 up.

 

The Mongrels trekked sluggishly to the half way line for Captain Curtis’ inspirational half time talk.

 

“Just go out there and have fun. Come on lads!”

 

And we did. The second half saw the Mongrels camped in the Nomads half, but despite the constant pressure, no goal came until just a minute before the end, when a defender put a looping header past his own keeper. The Nomads immediately came forward, looking for a winner, but time ran out, and it was another 3-on-3 extra time session.

 

Taking the same format of Russell, Polish Rob and Keelung Dave, this one did not need to go to penalties, Russell stealing the ball off the keeper on the half way line and trotting down the pitch to slot the ball in to an empty net. Another shock caused by the Mongrels, reaching the final against their first opponents, Seoul British.

 

But the final saw no shocks – the Mongrels were beaten despite battling valiantly. Some saves from the Mongrels keeper kept the score at a reasonable level, but it was justice done in the final as we went down to the better team. After the game everyone congratulated each other on the most successful Mongrels tour to Manila for years.

 

After the receiving of the silverware, and having drunk the case of San Miguel beer handed to each losing team, the Mongrels headed back to the hotel for the awarding of the MVP award, and the most prestigious Mongrel award. MVP was the closest it has been for some time – with Russell and Dave “The Rock” Roberts ending up joint winners. As for the Mongrel Award…. What happens on tour, stays on tour!