CHENG DU - EAT, SHIT AND SLEEP!

I’m all for biodiversity. Some people would even go as far as to say that I’m an animal lover. Others would say I’m a lover of animals. Heck I even had a dog once and dutifully loved it till it passed it away (RIP Tiger) but sometimes even I’m left scratching my head at the point of some species.

Mostly due to the fact I had nothing else to do I headed out to the Giant Panda Breeding Centre in Cheng Du. It’s very close to town and it’s where they do all those weird sexual experiments on these animals in order to “propagate the species”. This normally involves dressing the females in skimpy lingerie and shaving the males like poodles. I only wish it was that glamorous.

In reality panda love can be quite grubby. Normally they can’t even reproduce without human help, panda porn, vaseline and a turkey baster.

In herein lies the crux of the issue. Call me insensitive but if you can’t even fuck without the help of two guys in white lab coats then do you really deserve to continue as a viable species on this planet.

Besides being the inspiration for cheap cuddly toys manufactured by sweat shops all over China what use are they? From my thirty minute observation (about 29 mins too long) the normal panda day consists of sitting on your arse eating bamboo stalks, sleeping, sleeping and more sleeping.

If a species ever had “Extinct” stamped all over it then this has to be one of them.

P.S. Panda poo is green.

XIAN - YOU DA PLAYBOY! NO YOU DA PLAYBOY!

I had heard of the terracotta warriors years ago and subsequently convinced myself that it was something that I really wanted to see. I convinced Robbins to come with me as he had never seen them himself. My reasons, I must admit were mostly selfish on my part as my Mandarin is terrible and his is fluent plus he’s also a pisshead and I wanted to party.

For some reason his girlfriend had been reluctant to let him go, especially with me. Her impression of me was that of some feckless playboy with too much time and money who would undoubtedly be a bad influence. When I asked how she had come to this conclusion, Robbins explained.

“Well mate she asked me what you were doing in China and I told her that you were doing nothing”

Thanks mate. Funnily enough that was the same reason why Shirley didn’t want me to go with you.

Any illusions that I had of doing this tour on a budget were quickly dispelled when we got there. We booked into a four star hotel. We hired our own driver who recommended the best KTV’s in town. We went to KTV (If you’re reading this Shirley I made this part up. I didn’t really go). We kicked on to a nightclub in town where another bottle was ordered. It was only the first night and I was wasted. I have fragmented memories of that night. Telling Robbins for the twentieth time how good the complimentary spicy crackers were, sculling drinks with the club manager, leaning out of the taxi in the Muslim quarter to compliment a local on his fez-like hat while giving him the thumbs up as we zipped by. I think he smiled.

BEIJING - IT'S FUN TO STAY AT THE YMCA?

Sanlitun is chock full of bars with bands playing cheesy eighties ballads and Chinese love songs, annoying touts and skimpily dressed bar girls. Yorky specifically disliked being hassled by the touts who would go as far as following you up the length of the street in order to get your patronage.

“If you don’t like getting hassled, just tell them you’re gay mate and they’ll leave you alone” Yorky looked unconvinced preferring a more confrontational approach which usually involved him telling them to fuck off.

“Look I’ll show you” I made eye contact with the closest tout.

“You want pretty girls? You come to my bar” he smiled sensing a potential commission.

“No mate, I only like guys, You have guys? Maybe somebody who look like you?” He took a step back involuntarily, suddenly uncertain.

“You no like girls?” he questioned. Shaking his head he smiled, turned around and walked away.

I was only slightly concerned at how easily he believed me.

I THINK I'M TURNING JAPANESE! I REALLY THINK SO!

It’s my fault and I really should of known better. Next time I will drape myself in yellow/gold from head to toe to avoid having to listen to any commiserating words other aussies may have to offer.

“Too bad you lost, mate!” they drawl as they drape a comforting arm over my shoulders.

“Yeah I’m really fucking pissed off we went down today, cobber!” I reply in the broadest bogan aussie accent I can muster.

“Yeah maybe next time, eh” they reply.

Or my personal favourite.

“Are you a jap?” Well at least they didn’t say nip.

Hopefully, Australia will never declare war on Korea because that space between my shoulder blades may prove too tempting a target.

C'MON AUSSIE! C'MON!

Not many sporting events can generate as much excitement or inflame old rivalries like the World Cup. I flew into Frankfurt to catch the first game and I can’t wait to go back.

Australia v Japan – Fritz Walter Stadion in Kaiserslautern

Proud. 1 min. I’m running late and am still climbing the stairs into the stadium as the Aussie national anthem begins to play and the roar from ten thousand Aussies washes over me. I start to run.

Hope. 10 min. The Aussie crowd is in full song, singing Aussie words to English tunes. The Japanese are a dark blue ocean threatening to swallow up pockets of gold. Viduka is holding up the ball masterfully.

Injustice. 26 min 1-0. An early goal to the Japanese has stunned us. Shwaurzer weakly flaps at the ball as he is hammered by the opposition and the goal is given. Japanese joy is instantaneous. Kewell looks unfit and out of form.

Despair. 75 min. Players stumble around the field like drunken sailors, wilting under the hot sun. The minutes slowly tick by as we sit hoping for what seems impossible an equalising goal but someone must be listening to our prayers.

Relief. 84 min 1-1. It could have been God or perhaps Guus is a chubby little angel but one substitution changes everything. Cahill galvanises the team and the scrambled goal when it comes sparks us into joyous celebration. Both teams know that only victory will do and the game sputters back into life.

Disbelief. 89 min 2-1. The ball ricochets off one post into the other and into goal and incredibly we have the lead. Arms raised Cahill wheels away from goal.

Pure unadulterated jubilation. 90 + 3 min 3-1. The boys and I hug as we jump around like mad men for the third and final time as Aloisi slots it past the keeper. Japan is beaten.

I'M BAAAAACCKK!

Got back from China last night. Blame the lack of updating on the Chinese government. Now that I'm back in the UK I can write away to my hearts content. I'll provide a synopsis of my last three months with pictures.