Xmas at Cellblock.....
The build up to xmas started in mid November but it was a strange environment to be spending another Christmas away from home. Most of my friends I had met in the early stages of Cellblock had left, I was stuck between two groups, this made it very awkward as I had stayed with the same group throughout the entire time. When they all left and I realised I had left myself slightly outcast. I did have a few mates from the old crew who were kicking around and new staff had come onboard which made for exciting times.
John gave the cleaning post to a scouse girl called Lauren, I first met Lauren when I was stood at the bar, she screamed (well to her she spoke softly I guess) to me “well il do a much better job than the old cleaner” instantly this didn’t go down to well, but she made me laugh. Over the course of our time in Cellblock I became very close to Lauren.
We became such good friends, helping each other pick up chicks and guys and then telling one another the next day what happened, we were like brother and sister but the kind of brother that saw his sister naked a lot if that makes sense.
The one thing I won’t miss is her mess, dear god. For someone who is employed as a cleaner she should be shot. I would find xmas cards and fairy lights on my bed, I would have to pick through her underwear just to get to mine, I would find tampons in my hair wax, but as much as I kicked up a stink I couldn’t get mad.
Xmas eve and we knew this would be an epic day, all the boys were dressed in the same Santa outfits and all day drinking started well before lunch. A site to see when you walk in to the bar area and see 30 or so Santa’s sat around drinking – there was a massive amount of girls missing but that didn’t stop them.
As people returned from work everyone started to get in to the spirit, they drank and sang to xmas songs. Will, Andy and Paddy provided endless entertainment and helped get the drinking games up and going. A highlight was having all the Santa’s line up on the Pool wall and wave to the traffic as it drove past the main road. This provided some laughter.
The next day was a struggle, an early start for the staff as we had to prep the food for the mega feast that was Christmas dinner. Luckily we had a chef check in the hostel about a week before and this proved it’s waiting gold.
Dinner was served and the carols were belting out from behind the bar, myself, Emilie, Stuart, and Lauren took turns to help run the bar – I say run, it basically meant we drank every time we were behind it. The beauty of that job meant we could drink providing we could still work.
It was a long day and we were all exhausted, the staff had put on a good day but it meant we had to sacrifice most of our day to help make it all run smoothly. The next day we all managed to chill out and get some time to ourselves. That evening myself Lauren and Emelie went out to celebrate in our own way – Thai!
We were heading to Central after the restaurant when John called, we instantly thought we would have to back to work. It turned out John had booked a table for us (staff) at the RSL. We felt bad so we headed back to Cellblock, John was a bit gutted that we had missed the meal but he said “come on im taking you out”. We headed for the RSL but had no idea what we were doing, John signed us in and we each sat at a slot machine. John handed over $100 to each of us and said “whatever you win is yours, I just want my $100 back” – oh dear!
John provided the drinks and these did not stop, we were drinking at his pace. Quickly getting drunk and just as quickly loosing his money I started to win, turns out we all won, Lauren $180, Stu $350, Emelie $700 and I pulled out $1100. We all gave John is money back and jumped and cheered as we headed back to the hostel. John loved it and opened up the bar for us to continue drinking.
All in all, not a bad Christmas after all!
Tuesday 17 May 2011
Bundaberg - dominate that reception
I was settling in to the reception role well, John had started to gain respect for me and I felt I was working hard, the hours were long and I was working 6 days per week, this was fine as there is nothing to do in Bundaberg anyway and the days were flying by.
One part of the job I enjoyed was working the Bar. I covered Emelie’s shift on a Wednesday and I would keep the bar flowing all afternoon and in to the evening, I had some great times working the bar – most of which I was exceedingly drunk, this was mainly down to John, he soon realised I had a soft spot for Bundy and Coke and seeing as this was his favourite drop it made me an easy target for a drinking partner.
I was soon running the reception/whole hostel well, the day to day routine of sorting the paperwork, checking in new guests, cruising in the many vehicles (the main one being the mini bus – loved that bad boy), maintaining the communal areas made the job very diverse. Yes I still had to run around after John but that just became part and parcel of the job and there were many high points so this didn’t affect me much.
As I started to get closer to John he started to treat me very differently, he wouldn’t be aggressive or shout, he asked my advise and generally seemed to show an interest. This meant the noose around my neck was loosened, it allowed me to still do my job (and to a good standard I might add) but have fun too.
John would say to me “you are the first point of contact in the hostel, it’s your job to check girls in and check them out (at the same time)”, John was the perfect wingman – it was his bloody hostel.
I became close to an Irish girl called Yvonne, we had a great laugh but we were confined to the hostel life, we worked together (she was the cleaner) and we lived in the same room as we were both staff members. This actually had a positive impact on us but the time came for her to leave, we said we would try and stay together but it was never going to work. We stayed friends and worked out best in the end.
John realised that I was newly on the market shall we say and saw this as an opportunity to not only get me steemingly drunk but chat up almost any girl I remotely showed an interest in. Let’s just say working on reception has its advantages....
One part of the job I enjoyed was working the Bar. I covered Emelie’s shift on a Wednesday and I would keep the bar flowing all afternoon and in to the evening, I had some great times working the bar – most of which I was exceedingly drunk, this was mainly down to John, he soon realised I had a soft spot for Bundy and Coke and seeing as this was his favourite drop it made me an easy target for a drinking partner.
I was soon running the reception/whole hostel well, the day to day routine of sorting the paperwork, checking in new guests, cruising in the many vehicles (the main one being the mini bus – loved that bad boy), maintaining the communal areas made the job very diverse. Yes I still had to run around after John but that just became part and parcel of the job and there were many high points so this didn’t affect me much.
As I started to get closer to John he started to treat me very differently, he wouldn’t be aggressive or shout, he asked my advise and generally seemed to show an interest. This meant the noose around my neck was loosened, it allowed me to still do my job (and to a good standard I might add) but have fun too.
John would say to me “you are the first point of contact in the hostel, it’s your job to check girls in and check them out (at the same time)”, John was the perfect wingman – it was his bloody hostel.
I became close to an Irish girl called Yvonne, we had a great laugh but we were confined to the hostel life, we worked together (she was the cleaner) and we lived in the same room as we were both staff members. This actually had a positive impact on us but the time came for her to leave, we said we would try and stay together but it was never going to work. We stayed friends and worked out best in the end.
John realised that I was newly on the market shall we say and saw this as an opportunity to not only get me steemingly drunk but chat up almost any girl I remotely showed an interest in. Let’s just say working on reception has its advantages....
Bundaberg - working reception
I start to settle in to hostel life, I realise that I will be here for a few months and based on my first nights antics I can see it’s going to be fun.
It takes me about 10 days to get work, I guess John is not to fond of me. John is the work manager and owner of the hostel, a very brutal man who takes no shit. You stick to the rules, work hard and reward yourself with a few beers and there will be no trouble. I had been warned about John prior to coming to Bundaberg but I needed my visa and I am a hard worker so I figured I should be ok.
I meet John in his office, a solidly built man of about 6ft in height, he wears a basball cap and grey shorts with a polo shrit with the Cellblock logo on. He looks well weathered but you can tell he used to be in shape and you can tell he would have been handy back in the day, that’s not to say I doubt he wouldn’t be handy now. He sat at his computer cigarette in hand and blanked me, It was as if I never existed.
I introduced myself and gave a sold handshake, I figured I needed to be polite but also show I am here to work. I handed in my work forms and he said he hoped to have something soon. Vague but I was not going to say anything, a quick thanks and its back to the bar.
The next few days I just read my books and chilled out by the bar, Sam and Stu continued to include me in the drinking which I was glad for even though I was still dying from the first few days of drinking – these boys were seasoned pros, I was the newbie.
John called me over a few days later and told me I would be working on Akers farm, I would be planting sweet potatoes. I later found out that Akers is where John sends people he is not to fond of, the work is hard and not many people last.
I turned up for work and met a couple of Irish lads, James and Anto. James instantly made me laugh as he stood in front of the field, took a deep breath and said “Potatoes, Potatoes, Potatoes, living the dream!” – an Irish man planting potatoes, he was in heaven.
End of the day and it was hard work, I felt I did well and was even kept back to help with a smaller team the next few days (this means I wasn’t sacked, so of the 30 or so that started there were 6).
I then moved on to picking Ginger for Antony Reibhine, a different farm located about 20k down the road. I was working with a different hostel, but it was good hours and the money was helping.
Ginger is a hard one, you roll a ball of unbroken ginger over (about the size of 3 footballs) and then break it in to smaller sections, place these in the buckets and then when we have enough we cut them on the conveyer belt. They then re-seed these and double the crop. Mind you the jumping spiders took some getting used to, killing the odd Cain Toad made for good fun though.
I continued to work at the ginger farm for a week and then we started on the next field picking new potatoes, by this time and only 2 weeks in I had enough of farm work.
That night I was drinking with Kenny, he advised that he was due to leave in less than two weeks and that John was struggling to find a replacement. He suggested I ask for the reception job – so I did.
John didn’t seem to keen but I knew that the two lads he did offer the job two were not staying very long, I had just arrived and even said if I get the job I will stay an extra month.
The next morning Kenny came in and woke me up – “get dressed, your working with me – im going to train you up” – sweet!
I trained with Kenny over the next week, we covered all areas, the bar, the pool, reception, rent, locking up and of course John. Now when Kenny trained me up he did advise that I would be known around the hostel as “John’s Bitch”, he wasn’t wrong.
The time came for Kenny to leave with his cousin Paul, Paul is a hero but that’s another story. They both left with Mitch, Nicola, Sarah and Mac.
It was now time for me to step up.
Almost instantly John started to show his authority over me, I knew this would happen and new that he still didn’t know me and that this would be a testing phase to see how I cope. That same weekend we had a load of trouble with people drinking in their room and a mental Canadian girl who swore at John’s daughter and tried to bite John – not a good move.
It was down to me and Jimmy (the huge security dude) to kick people out, I was the voice of reasoning and Jimmy was the muscle.
We ended up calling the Police as things were getting out of hand. After the commotion had settled John called me over and asked me to put my hands out, so I did. He said “why are they shaking C**t?”, “I guess I am just full of adrenaline” – I replied. He turned to me and said “have a drink then”, I walked behind the bar and pulled a drink, “neck it” John said, so I did, this was then repeated three more times. I placed my hands out and they had stopped shaking. John looks at me and says “well done for this evening, now f**k off!” – In that moment I had worked John out and realised he wasn’t all that bad but he needed to keep face, this was his domain.
It takes me about 10 days to get work, I guess John is not to fond of me. John is the work manager and owner of the hostel, a very brutal man who takes no shit. You stick to the rules, work hard and reward yourself with a few beers and there will be no trouble. I had been warned about John prior to coming to Bundaberg but I needed my visa and I am a hard worker so I figured I should be ok.
I meet John in his office, a solidly built man of about 6ft in height, he wears a basball cap and grey shorts with a polo shrit with the Cellblock logo on. He looks well weathered but you can tell he used to be in shape and you can tell he would have been handy back in the day, that’s not to say I doubt he wouldn’t be handy now. He sat at his computer cigarette in hand and blanked me, It was as if I never existed.
I introduced myself and gave a sold handshake, I figured I needed to be polite but also show I am here to work. I handed in my work forms and he said he hoped to have something soon. Vague but I was not going to say anything, a quick thanks and its back to the bar.
The next few days I just read my books and chilled out by the bar, Sam and Stu continued to include me in the drinking which I was glad for even though I was still dying from the first few days of drinking – these boys were seasoned pros, I was the newbie.
John called me over a few days later and told me I would be working on Akers farm, I would be planting sweet potatoes. I later found out that Akers is where John sends people he is not to fond of, the work is hard and not many people last.
I turned up for work and met a couple of Irish lads, James and Anto. James instantly made me laugh as he stood in front of the field, took a deep breath and said “Potatoes, Potatoes, Potatoes, living the dream!” – an Irish man planting potatoes, he was in heaven.
End of the day and it was hard work, I felt I did well and was even kept back to help with a smaller team the next few days (this means I wasn’t sacked, so of the 30 or so that started there were 6).
I then moved on to picking Ginger for Antony Reibhine, a different farm located about 20k down the road. I was working with a different hostel, but it was good hours and the money was helping.
Ginger is a hard one, you roll a ball of unbroken ginger over (about the size of 3 footballs) and then break it in to smaller sections, place these in the buckets and then when we have enough we cut them on the conveyer belt. They then re-seed these and double the crop. Mind you the jumping spiders took some getting used to, killing the odd Cain Toad made for good fun though.
I continued to work at the ginger farm for a week and then we started on the next field picking new potatoes, by this time and only 2 weeks in I had enough of farm work.
That night I was drinking with Kenny, he advised that he was due to leave in less than two weeks and that John was struggling to find a replacement. He suggested I ask for the reception job – so I did.
John didn’t seem to keen but I knew that the two lads he did offer the job two were not staying very long, I had just arrived and even said if I get the job I will stay an extra month.
The next morning Kenny came in and woke me up – “get dressed, your working with me – im going to train you up” – sweet!
I trained with Kenny over the next week, we covered all areas, the bar, the pool, reception, rent, locking up and of course John. Now when Kenny trained me up he did advise that I would be known around the hostel as “John’s Bitch”, he wasn’t wrong.
The time came for Kenny to leave with his cousin Paul, Paul is a hero but that’s another story. They both left with Mitch, Nicola, Sarah and Mac.
It was now time for me to step up.
Almost instantly John started to show his authority over me, I knew this would happen and new that he still didn’t know me and that this would be a testing phase to see how I cope. That same weekend we had a load of trouble with people drinking in their room and a mental Canadian girl who swore at John’s daughter and tried to bite John – not a good move.
It was down to me and Jimmy (the huge security dude) to kick people out, I was the voice of reasoning and Jimmy was the muscle.
We ended up calling the Police as things were getting out of hand. After the commotion had settled John called me over and asked me to put my hands out, so I did. He said “why are they shaking C**t?”, “I guess I am just full of adrenaline” – I replied. He turned to me and said “have a drink then”, I walked behind the bar and pulled a drink, “neck it” John said, so I did, this was then repeated three more times. I placed my hands out and they had stopped shaking. John looks at me and says “well done for this evening, now f**k off!” – In that moment I had worked John out and realised he wasn’t all that bad but he needed to keep face, this was his domain.
Bundaberg - my first days
I need a visa, so I head to Bundaberg.......
I made the decision to leave the boys in Melbourne and head up to Bundaberg in Queensland, I had been reliably informed that Cellblock backpackers was a good place to get my farm work completed, have a few beers and meet new people (girls more importantly).
I leave a very cold wet Melbourne and fly to Brisbane, a mate of mine (Pagey) collected me from the airport and took me back to his house. We had previously stayed here when we travelled the east coast and both he and his girlfriend Tarryn are awesome hosts.
Curry and a few beers and lots of catching up to do, we talk long in to the night. The next morning I head straight to the station. I collect my ticket and jump on the train. I can now relax for the next 4 hours as we head north to Bundaberg.
Not more than 5 minutes in to the journey and we start to have trouble. A few aboriginals are sat a few seats away and its clear to see they are how can I say..... Smashed out of their tree, blind drunk, in another world!
They start to abuse other passengers and a small child, people ask for the conductor who advises that they will be removed at the next stop. Somehow they managed to stay on until one of them starts to threaten staff. We stop for an hour in a remote station in the middle of god knows where and the police arrive and remove the drunks. This was my first experience of aboriginals and I had been told to keep guard.
Back to sleep!
I wake up and head to the food cart for some dinner, I realise that we have been travelling for some 6 hours – I ask someone why the journey is taking so long and I am told that we stopped as the main locomotive had a fault, we would be arriving soon.
We arrive in Bundaberg and it’s around 9pm (3 hours longer than planned), I have a rough idea where the hostel is and I make my way to the main reception. First impressions are that the hostel is big. It’s located next to the river and resides in a disused police station from the 50’s.
I enter reception and a Canadian dude called Kenny checks me in, he tells me I will be in room 3 and a few people who were stood at the reception desk start to laugh – here we go I think to myself. I enter room 3 and place my bag on my top bunk bed. The room smells of old shoes and I will be dammed if I can make out what the floor is made up of, there is a scattering of clothes, food and condoms – nice!
“Oi” I hear, I look up and there are three half naked lads downing a funnel full of beer. I turn to them and say “Hi what’s up?’ The three lads introduce themselves, Sam, Stu and Little John – “So do you like to drink – Sam says”, “well yea” I reply. “Drop your bag off, get your jeans on and come with us”. I head out to the bar area with the boys and head off to a local bar/club called Central – we get very drunk and I try to make conversation with this very large group of people. The task is slightly daunting but most of them are drunk and the banter flows.
The next morning.......
I wake up to shouting and people clapping at the end of my bed, I sit up and ask “what’s going on”, One of the boys says “you are a hero” I reply with “why, what did I do?”. Timmy, a rather large but awesome Aussie who has been living at the hostel for almost 3 years turns and says “I saw the whole thing – you got off your bunk, headed for the German girls bag, unzipped the top, flopped your John Thomas out and went for a piss. You zipped the bag up and went back to bed”.
I felt terrible, the whole time I have been travelling and the whole time I have been drunk (which was most of the time) I have never done anything like this. It seemed that it didn’t matter, the German girls had left and the boys thought I was a hero. “Looks like you will settle in just fine” says Sam.
I made the decision to leave the boys in Melbourne and head up to Bundaberg in Queensland, I had been reliably informed that Cellblock backpackers was a good place to get my farm work completed, have a few beers and meet new people (girls more importantly).
I leave a very cold wet Melbourne and fly to Brisbane, a mate of mine (Pagey) collected me from the airport and took me back to his house. We had previously stayed here when we travelled the east coast and both he and his girlfriend Tarryn are awesome hosts.
Curry and a few beers and lots of catching up to do, we talk long in to the night. The next morning I head straight to the station. I collect my ticket and jump on the train. I can now relax for the next 4 hours as we head north to Bundaberg.
Not more than 5 minutes in to the journey and we start to have trouble. A few aboriginals are sat a few seats away and its clear to see they are how can I say..... Smashed out of their tree, blind drunk, in another world!
They start to abuse other passengers and a small child, people ask for the conductor who advises that they will be removed at the next stop. Somehow they managed to stay on until one of them starts to threaten staff. We stop for an hour in a remote station in the middle of god knows where and the police arrive and remove the drunks. This was my first experience of aboriginals and I had been told to keep guard.
Back to sleep!
I wake up and head to the food cart for some dinner, I realise that we have been travelling for some 6 hours – I ask someone why the journey is taking so long and I am told that we stopped as the main locomotive had a fault, we would be arriving soon.
We arrive in Bundaberg and it’s around 9pm (3 hours longer than planned), I have a rough idea where the hostel is and I make my way to the main reception. First impressions are that the hostel is big. It’s located next to the river and resides in a disused police station from the 50’s.
I enter reception and a Canadian dude called Kenny checks me in, he tells me I will be in room 3 and a few people who were stood at the reception desk start to laugh – here we go I think to myself. I enter room 3 and place my bag on my top bunk bed. The room smells of old shoes and I will be dammed if I can make out what the floor is made up of, there is a scattering of clothes, food and condoms – nice!
“Oi” I hear, I look up and there are three half naked lads downing a funnel full of beer. I turn to them and say “Hi what’s up?’ The three lads introduce themselves, Sam, Stu and Little John – “So do you like to drink – Sam says”, “well yea” I reply. “Drop your bag off, get your jeans on and come with us”. I head out to the bar area with the boys and head off to a local bar/club called Central – we get very drunk and I try to make conversation with this very large group of people. The task is slightly daunting but most of them are drunk and the banter flows.
The next morning.......
I wake up to shouting and people clapping at the end of my bed, I sit up and ask “what’s going on”, One of the boys says “you are a hero” I reply with “why, what did I do?”. Timmy, a rather large but awesome Aussie who has been living at the hostel for almost 3 years turns and says “I saw the whole thing – you got off your bunk, headed for the German girls bag, unzipped the top, flopped your John Thomas out and went for a piss. You zipped the bag up and went back to bed”.
I felt terrible, the whole time I have been travelling and the whole time I have been drunk (which was most of the time) I have never done anything like this. It seemed that it didn’t matter, the German girls had left and the boys thought I was a hero. “Looks like you will settle in just fine” says Sam.
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