When I put my mind to it I can, sadly, become a walking cliché of an Englishman with great ease. Sometimes I forget that I am in an amazing part of the world where beaches and natural beauty lay on my doorstep and I slip into my old pre-university days of getting drunk for the thrill of it. (I recall years one and two of university going the same way, too).

Last weekend, (14/3) I found myself become that cliché as I went to a mate's place located next to the beach at Maroubra Bay, where I had a BBQ, drunk copious amounts of alcohol and spent the day in front of the TV watching football. All that was remaining for me to complete the 'Complete guide to being English' was to wear a football top, get sun burnt, buy a kebab and throw the half I don't want on a stationary car and then kick off one of the wing mirrors. I did none of this; I also failed to take a pee in the street while declaring my love for the nearest person next to me. University, it has to be said, provided me with a tangible learning experience as well as a textbook based education.

So much for the sights and delights I have encountered so far. So much for all the culture I have induced, but every now and then a blast to the past can be justified - as it was last weekend. I enjoyed drinking cider in the sun followed by a football binge. To the next time....!

Moving on, I haven't sustained my binge drinking and become something of a Twiggy figure (the obese one from the Royal Family), for I have been taking in more Australian experiences. The weekend previous (7/3) Lysey and I attended the annual and world famous Mardi Gras, which took over the streets of Sydney.

Opening with the famous 'Dykes on bikes', the parade - lasting well over four hours - was an eye opening festival. Not afraid to stoke controversey, the liberal thoughts and images on show were not only entertaining, but highly thought provoking. I have never attended a gay parade before, but I have attended many street festivals as well as a number of carnivals. The predominant purpose of the carnivals I have attended is usually to raise money for local charities. However, the Mardi Gras is anything but a fundraiser: nearly all the floats and participants were conveying a political message about gay rights. Moreover, the theme for this year's parade was 'United Nations', where the intention was to raise awareness about the countries where it is illegal to be gay. According to some of the posters on show, it is illegal in seven countries, and within these borders being gay means going to jail, or in some cases, death.

Provoking my thoughts, I undertook my own research to find out the names of these countries. Using possibly the most unreliable source known to man, Wikipedia, I uncovered a list that was more substantial than just seven countries. Most of these countries were located within the Middle East, and if I were a practicing homosexual I wouldn't be lured on discovering this region. (Two weeks in Iran, anyone?) Moreover, as a practicing heterosexual I have no great desire to head to this region. However, it's important to stress my findings were found on Wikipedia; if I have defamed the Middle East I am sorry. To make amends, when I do reach the region anyone who's offended can kick back and have a Gay Time with me. (Incidentally, a Gay Time is a popular ice cream in Australia, apparently popular back in the 1980's, but they're making a come back. To promote their reemergence they have launched a TV advert which has a jingle that goes: "It's so hard to have a Gay Time on your own. Smutty)

The majority of the floats at the Mardi Gras were basically sticking two fingers up to the anti-gay establishment. For example, a number of these floats depicted religion in a most derogatory way, often making a mockery of Jesus or the Pope. (One float, solely made up of a large banner which stated 'fuck homophobic religions' underlined the general vibe of the parade) Furthermore, the parade also highlighted human rights' issues, including matters relating to Aboriginals and also to Tibet. To me, it was apparent that everyone associated with the parade was armed with a no fear agenda.

Furthermore, to some organistaions the Mardi Gras provided a perfect opportunity for some PR offerings. The fire service, police, lifesavers, and the ambos - they were all present and joined in with the parade. Although these organisations weren't associated with any of the aforementioned political stances, their presence was a welcome sight to all. To me it added weight to the idea of a 'United Nations' as these organisations are obviously all open minded to the idea of employing gays and lesbians. However, there were a number of conglomerates who joined the feel-good bandwagon, who in my mind simply offered nothing but to promote their own needs and wants of their respective company's. ANZ (Australia and New Zealand Bank, who was whored by Joan Rivers), Virgin Blue (an Australian airline) and Foxtel (cable TV) were the guilty parties.

I thoroughly enjoyed the whole parade, but neither Lysey nor myself had the stamina to see it all. To get a decent vantage point we had arrived about two-and-a-half-hours before its start, so come the end we were both feeling the effects of being on our feet for so long. In my summary I would say the floats were nowhere near as good as anything you'll likely to see at something like Bridgewater Carnival (that's the only time I, or anyone else for that matter, will compare or contain the words 'Bridgewater' and 'Sydney' within the same sentence), but the costumes were worthy of Broadway. People go to so much effort, and not to gain money, but to promote something they feel strongly about.

Moving on. We had good reasons to return home early from the Mardi Gras, as we were due at the airport the following morning. Having had a few hours sleep due to the Tottenham match (our fixture against Sunderland kicked off at 2am, of which I watched on some dodgy internet stream via South Africa. It was so bad I missed both goals) we both awoke early that Sunday (8/3) to head to the airport. Our destination, for what was only going to be a 24-hour trip, was Melbourne. Our reason for going was to celebrate Lysey's parents wedding anniversary.

Her dad came up with the idea that we both make the journey as Lysey's sister and her boyfriend were doing the same from New Zealand. They initially had reasons to leave New Zealand and be in Melbourne as the pair of them was attending a wedding, of which Lysey’s parents were aware. However, her mother (and her sister and her boyfriend) was none-the-wiser about our arrival, so they looked a little shocked when we both met up early that Sunday morning. (It was about 11am, but we had been on the move since 5am. Unsurprisingly, her dad wasn't shocked as he organised and paid for us to be there)

The intention of the day, once the greetings and surprise was out of the way, was to have lunch and then go for a few drinks somewhere in the city. Our choice of cuisine was Chinese - not my most favourite, but I am a top faker (I gave Lysey instructions not to tell anyone that I don't like Chinese. I did not want to make a scene, so I went with the flow). Instantly, they could probably tell the concept and the food was a little alien to me; my fingers became my choice of cutlery replacing my chopsticks. I don't know why, but when I have Chinese I struggle using chopsticks, yet when I have sushi I find them simple to use.

One hour later, having consumed an ample amount of Chinese dumplings, we left China Town and made our way to a pub on the other side of Melbourne. Disappointingly, my geographical knowledge of Melbourne is virtually non-existent. I say it's disappointing because as a lad turned 26-year-old man I have had a fetish to read maps. (As soon as I sit down in a plane, for example, I instantly pick up the magazines that come as standard and study the maps and the routes the particular airline operates. I have never seen anyone read these magazines, apart from myself. However, some people must read them as the Sudoko in my magazine that very Sunday morning was half complete. I was not amused - either finish it or don't start it.) Therefore, I had no great idea where we were in Melbourne, but I was more than happy to be in a pub where I could have a pint or five.

To my knowledge, Victoria is the only state in Australia where pints are regularly served (you can get them in NSW and other states, but most pubs tend to serve in schooner glasses - roughly just over half a pint). A few hours later I sensed that we were all getting in the mood, but that's where out night ended. As we had been up since 5am tiredness was overtaking the effects of the alcohol. Moreover, we were due to rise at 5am the following day so we could make it back to work on time, so we opted to head back to the comfort of our air-conditioned hotel where a plush bed awaited me.

Our flight home the following day (Monday 10th) was problem free, apart from one tiny glitch. We flew back with Qantas and I was happy about because unlike all other domestic airlines in Australia, Qantas serves breakfast as part of the ticket. (The Sudoko in the magazine wasn't complete either) However, the aforementioned airline has had a few recent problems with safety: nothing tragic has occurred, but a few of their planes have dipped a few thousand feet whilst in transit, meaning they have been under the media limelight for a while. Anyway, during the standard safety chat where they tell you how to fasten your seat belt and what to do if a mask appears in front of you, (by the way, I cannot be the only one who would love to jump out of a crashed plane onto one of those inflatable slides that emerge from the doors. The chances of this happening are slim, so if it does ever happen I won't take the advice of the airline, which is to gently lean over and glide down the shute. Oh no, I will be taking a running jump, just to further remember the experience) the video they were using to portray this message cut out. One of the stewardess' had to convey the rest of the video over the tannoy, which I found amusing given their recent safety record.