Monday, September 04, 2006

TROUT!

You may wonder what I have in common with several hundred Tasmanian fishermen (and women in fact), approximately 120 trout, $10,000 and a cold weekend in September. And after conclusive research and study I can tell you that in fact I have precisely nothing in common - excepting the dubious possibility that both the fisher-people and I were all human. However since I couldn't do blood screenings or full medical reports on all the people I met this weekend I wouldn't like to make any claim to the truth of this.

After discovering an unfortunate allergic reaction that caused stomach convulsions, dizziness and no small amount of sweating and vomitting last weekend I looked forwards to a slightly less eventful week. I should have known better really and mentally prepared myself for the worst, but in a moment of uncharacteristic cheerful optimism I think I hoped that everything would 'turn out ok'. I was wrong.
By Wednesday I was sick again - some evil virus taking advantage of my weakened state by infiltrating my bodily defences and setting up the biological equivalent of concentration camp around my head and chest-al region. Short on staff at the school this week, my attendance was more or less necessary - though what contribution I actually make is probably questionable at times especially when I'm not well. As my eyes began to sink further into my head and a dawning awareness that I hadn't eaten regular meals for about 6 days crept over me a strange man appeared like a gorilla in the mist. [For the record we do have mist in the Po but I have never actually seen a gorilla here, I live in hope - also the girl next to me has bruised her ribs through coughing, how stupid is that?! and now she keeps doing these pathetic little coughs which sound about the same as I would imagine a particularly cute and ingraciating female hamster would make. At the rate of approximately 4 a minute but with no discernable pattern I am slowly going mad].
Back to the gorillas. Shambling like some sort of primitive beast as he was I prepared my elephant gun when he hailed me with a traditional greeting: 'ello cobber.
Ah, an Australian. I soon realised that in fact not merely an Australian but also a Tasmanian. Apparently 'cobber' is another word for 'mate' - which is as far a memory serves one of my most hated words in the English language and used by all truly uneducated and filthy english people - most often teenagers with more attitude than sense. [Really that isn't true, some of my closest friends have used that word, and often in reference to me. It's just that I hate it and I'm exercising my cynicism in case I start becoming a nice person. Also, praise the Lord, the hamster girl has left.]
So: after hailing me with such a greeting he proceeded to ask me if I would go and make a documentary on the Troutification of a local town. In a weakened and stupid state due to the virus that I suspect has been eating away at my brain I said: yes. Evn as the words escaped my mouth there was a part of me locked behind soundproof glass screaming and banging my fists attempting to strangle the life out of us both. It failed. And so I went.

Armed with less clothes than I needed to keep warm, a video camera, a microphone (which I forgot the battery for), and some chocolate I went to make a documentary about fishing for trout. More importantly a trout worth $10,000 if you catch it.

So I filmed, got more sick, ran out of battery, went home, got up the next day, did more filming, ran out of battery, missed some interviews that I probably really needed to make and will now have to devise somehow (which I think is called lying but I'm sure that that's what the media is for anyway so I'm not too worried about it) and came home again.
Amongst all that I met a crazy german dude who not only offered me larger - and then to warm it up for me because he knew about the english - and to take me to the pub with him on the way home, but who also gave me a lift from the river back into town so that I could get home. Turns out he likes Australian hip hop (I can't really imagine why) and didn't catch any fish. I think the fish thing was to do with the fact that his son keep throwing rocks into the river just where his line was and scaring any fish that might have been there away. Mr Germany just shrugged his shoulders and said he was having fun anyway.
Which was probably the point all along - less about money grabbing and more about having a weekend all together. I decided that I quite liked him in the end.

Anyway so ends the story of the troutification of a local town and a week or two more in my life. No one caught the trout. We all went home. I slept for a long time. The end. Case closed.

5 Comments:

Blogger The Heir said...

nice one mate!! just got back to the UK from greece, had an awesome time which I finished off by crashing a motorbike on a greek island and getting some stitches, will have a couple of VERY tough scars tho!!
Love to ya down under and ill see you in January, the big MG and I had a chat and I wont be there for conference but its all good.

4:13 PM

 
Blogger The Heir said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

4:16 PM

 
Blogger Daf said...

hiya guy, glad to hear the bug is doing the global rounds! why would anyone go fishing for fun? I don't understand. you are completely unhinged so that makes perfect sense, but the rest of the population too?
I made the most of actually not working the bank holiday by going to Wales and then Greenbelt while one particularly mean virus took over my body and proceeded to share a tent with a friend who appeared to have dysentry, nice. Body is just beginning to recover in time for "the month of hell", keep you posted if they don't fire me/take me into protective custody :s

1:53 PM

 
Blogger Praveen Seelam said...

Hey Guy praying for ya bro!! Keep up the Good work, will meet you again(really dunno where when)..God Bless You..

2:11 PM

 
Blogger Daf said...

guy, by the way can't get the supporters page link to come up from the blog, do you know why?

10:24 PM

 

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