Wednesday 8 January 2014

Arsenal 2-0 Sp*rs [Pig n Whistle, Brisbane]

North London is Red & White and Brisbane is my last call on my 6 week tour of Australia before heading to New Zealand (excluding a quick stop off in Sydney at the end of January on the way back up to Asia). What better way to do it than by watching our Red Army comprehensively knock out that team up the road.

This is my second visit to Queensland in those six weeks, having visited Cairns in December. Brisbane is QLD's largest city and is a nice, calm departure from Sydney. Most Australians will come to Brisbane to visit the beautiful Pacific coastline nearby, namely the laid-back Sunshine Coast to the north of the city, and the touristic Gold Coast to the south.

I took a short ride to the latter, Gold Coast, or more specifically, Surfers Paradise, to soak in the sights of the country's most popular tourist destination. People from all over the country flock here in the thousands to frequent the beaches and attractions. It's the Orlando of Australia, only less giant mice and more seawater.

Surfers Paradise. 
For the North London Derby, the venue of choice was the Pig N Whistle in central Brisbane. Having watched Manchester City draw 1-1 against Blackburn Rovers, the small gathering of Arsenal fans were in good spirits for the Spurs match. What made it all the more entertaining was the group of silent Spurs fans that congregated next to us in the pub. It made for a great experience, and of course the result speaks for itself. It's a shame about Walcott, I really feel for him, especially as he'll miss the chance to play in Brazil. But he'll come back even stronger, and there's Gnabry and Ox to fill the void.

The icing on the cake for me and my host Michael was the ride back from the pub. The game had kicked off at 3:15am, so by the time the final whistle had gone and we had caught the train back to the nearest station, it was 6am. Mick and I walked out the station, looking for a taxi, but couldn't see a single one. To our disbelief, we walked past an SUV and the driver winds down the window upon seeing us in our jerseys. "Up The Gunners" he shouts as we walk past. He gets out the car, complete with Arseblog T-shirt, and asks if we need a lift home. Introducing himself as Pete Boyles, I ask if somebody put him there, he said he was picking up a morning paper from the shop across the road and wanted to get out the house for a little while. You couldn't write it, could you?!



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