Thursday, 11 February 2010

Return to Oz

"All sorted Jo Jo. You're getting picked up from the airport. See you when you get here."

It was all a bit last minute. Flights were booked late on Friday morning, and by 9pm that night, Qantas was whisking me back over to Australia. I was meeting the Polo Player, Matty and 14 horses in Melbourne, but as yet had no idea where. Despite three days of rest in Auckland, I felt shattered and slightly nervous about my latest decision to postpone New Zealand and continue working in the elite, slightly alien world of Australian polo. My three week dalliance as a groom had become a season-long commitment, unpaid for the moment, and I wondered if I'd made the right choice.

I thought about it all the way through immigration and passport control, where I got my fourth visa stamp of the week. I pondered it through baggage claim, into arrivals. I jittered about my decision as I stood outside Melbourne Airport, backpack on a trolley next to me, waiting for a lift to god knows where. I considered my change of plans right up until the chauffeur arrived, picked up my bags, opened the door to a blacked out car and told me we were going to Melbourne's newest five star boutique accommodation.

Somewhere between being asked if the car temperature was ok, and arriving at this spotless contemporary building which was more art gallery than hotel - I decided I'd probably done alright. Reassurance kept coming when I walked into our room at 12am, found the Polo Player eating a complimentary chocolate souffle in the lounge area, with Matty and the Hotel Director sprawled over two queen sized beds watching the flat screen TV and drinking Corona; a bottle of which landed in my hand as soon as my bags hit the floor.

With two large beds and dividing curtains, there was no confusion about the sleeping arrangements this week. But as the Polo Player yelled 'Hey JoJo! Look!" before pressing his arse, then balls against the walls of the frosted glass en-suite bathroom on Sunday morning, and when my shower was interrupted by shouts of 'We can see you naked! WOOOO!', I had a feeling that we'd all be getting pretty well acquainted over the coming weeks anyway.

As far as my latest travel choice goes, I'll take the odd stay in a posh hotel over privacy any day.

9 comments:

roseski said...

You hussy, you!

roseski said...

You hussy, you!

AFC 30K said...

Is this like New York, New York? so good they named it twice......

theperpetualspiral said...

I sincerely hope there was a wedge of lime in your Corona.

The Unbearable Banishment said...

Is Matty still with you? I thought he didn't cut the mustard? Do you mind being called JoJo? I know you've had issues with your ex-office mates not getting it right in the past.

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

Roseski - According to reports, I'm the least hussy-ish groom he's ever had! So nerr!

AFC - Haha, I think so ;)

Perp - I have to admit, the Corona was lacking in lime. It was cold though.

Unbearable, Unbearable, Unbearable. You've got yourself all in a twist. The Great Dane was useless and left us two weeks ago. Matty is the Polo Player's 19 yr old friend who is staying and playing for the season. Doooo keep up ;)

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

and nope...don't mind being called Jo Jo. A few friends call me that. Joanne is the no no.

not twitter said...

Frosted glass shower, double edged sword that. I imagine some folk create less than stimulating viewing once disrobed the other side of the glass.

A Free Man said...

You've got to love the Australian blokes. It's taken me a while but their, er, 'charm' and arid humor is starting to endear them to me.

 

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