Canadian Rules
Playing pool in a pub in Australia can sometimes be a bit of an argumentative process, especially at the start as you decide upon which set of rules you are playing with. Not that the rules differ a lot between Sydney and Melbourne, but just enough so that before you begin you need to make sure of a few things so you don’t get caught out.
Playing doubles against a Canadian and a South African, with a Dutch guy as my partner proved to be half an hour of agony as we established the rules through that the first game.
The closest rules to mine were from my Dutch friend Dan and the strangest, most convoluted and baffling travesties disguised as rules came from Kirk.
I think what I took away from the experience was that I will never play pool in Canada. Ever.
I am finally over my jet lag. This morning I managed to sleep through the 4 am barrier, a new Personal best that I hadn’t managed all week and I look forward to sleeping through it again and again, especially when Alex arrives and is unable to do so herself. The flight back wasn’t to bad. It seems that each time I make the enormous crossing, it is slightly easier than it was the time before, but the time spent waiting for the next flight still sucks, especially when you have hours to kill in Vienna airport, which is quiet a boring place. I suppose that explains why the newsagecy there was two thirds filled with porn magazines.
