Prisoner Cell Block Oz.

I don't know if it's maybe because I've been watching too much Prisoner Cell Block H during my time in Australia, but the more time I spend in the one hostel (it's been a month now), the more I imagine it's something akin to prison life. A few people have asked me what my daily routine consists of.

Bear with me and I'll explain.

The HMP issue sheets on the metal bunks. Lights out at 11. The rations of gruel have been replaced with 2 minute instant noodles, and the inmates hang out in the rec room, too poor to do anything but drink contraband goon and watch bad 90s movies with Emilio Estefez.

Then there's Top Dog. The po-faced girl who swans around thinking she owns the place, Queen Bea who will only speak to old timers and who definitely controls the TV remote. The real old-timer, the Lizzie of the joint, seems to be just about the only person who was offended with the people having sex on the top bunk while she was asleep below. There's fights, cups of tea being thrown everywhere and illicit affairs. Maybe someone should have lagged.



There's the skanky old laundry, industrial machines banging away day and night, trying to cope with the latest infestation of bed bugs; you half expect Judy or Doreen to be knocking around in their denim dungas, fag in mouth, bitching about the screws.

The Governer, firm but fair, rules the reception desk. If you ask nicely she'll let you pay your rent a bit late. But then there's Vinegar Tits, the moody night porter who seems to be on permanent kitchen patrol and gets cross if there's bits of pasta or grated carrot in the plughole. I've yet to meet The Freak or see anyone get thrown into solitary but I'm sure it's only a matter of time.

Anyway while I'm not blurring my realities between Wentworth and actual real life, I'm having a great time. Work is going good, lots of travellers and it's awesome having a dollar wage in a land where the only food I can actually afford is McDonalds or pasta surprise for breakfast lunch and dinner. I spent last weekend at the beach (my massage by the sea was AMAZING - thank you so much guys xoxo) and loving the sunshine when it actually happens (apparently it's Australia's worst summer on record or something.. but I'm not complaining when London is minus 2). I'm gearing up for La Minogue at Mardi Gras, and looking forward to the opening party at Fair Day tomorrow.

South America is still in my sights, lets just hope Falklands Mark II doesn't kick off. Anyway I'm off to talk to my parole officer.