HOTYOT goes to England, does some Pulp Fiction in Amsterdam...
What a year it has been. I have had such a great time since being liberated from the land of 'Roos and Blues'. A funny thing about all of this is, that I was originally born in NZ before being taken to Melbourne. Why Oz can't make plates I don't know, with the history of Oz in mind you would think they would lead the world in making plates, mail bags and big rocks into gravel.

I'm so glad I am now home again and wish my brother was here with me.
Who knows, 1 day shortly we I may be reunited (do I have a plan so cunning you could pin a tail on it and call it a Tuatara, well! if I told ya I'd have to kill ya!).

A quick summery of my year goes like this:
After gaining my freedom at the Sth Pacs and a great fight home (with that spunky hosty who thought I was very cute) I did a tour of the North Island. Mate! what a trip and I went 1st class as well, none of this desperately hanging on to a bumper at 100kph getting covered in bugs and other crap, I got to ride inside the car. I got to see all the sights and take in the Nth Island Champs at Tauranga, Fresh Water Champs at RotoVagas, heaps of Yacht Clubs (and their bars) and loads of other stuff.

My next trip was on a way big jet plane to a place called London. Man what a weird lot over here!! I went in search of fellow Javelin sailors and found squat. I hunted around Pomgolia, Scotland and Wales with no joy at all. It was damn hard to find a vessel that would even rate as a yacht. Most of the boats are from the same era as Eric the Viking, the old bloody clunkers.
Ask anyone about a Trapeze Harness and they think you are some sort of sexual deviant.

Bugger it! I thought, there must be a decent yacht somewhere in this hemisphere so I went to Dublin (some good piccies to follow later) but then found out it's inland, bugger. Dublin is a nice place though and I enjoyed it. I did find the accents of the ladies did tend to give me a bit of a raging boner but I did have a 1 niter with a lovely plate called 'LADYDI' which helped.

Err! I'm drying out where is a F*#^en yacht. The Dutch sail a bit, lets try Amsterdam. Another plane ride later here I am. Nice place, busy but water everywhere. Very skinny harbours though and these low bridges (everywhere) would mean some rig changes but it's still water. Again no bloody real boats only those (way anorexic) fizz nasties. O well, lets see the sights anyway.
Not as many cute girlies but I did have fun in some of the coffee shops.
These shops sell this funny tobacco stuff which kept scrambling up my letters. After each visit to one of these shops I kept introducing myself as 'WHOTYOT' Cool Baby!.

Bugger this, I can't find any real boats so I'm off home. I did have a small drama at Heathrow with customs as they thought I was being liberated from a pommie car. You would think that seeing the Pommes sent most of the Ozzies there they would know that Victoria was not part of Pomgolia. Stupid pratts.