The Mushroom Factory - SPECIAL REPORT - Duffield Down Under

G'day! As we say down here.

It's been a while now since we moved to Oz, and we're truly settled in and feeling like natives. I've been to night school to learn the haka, and next week I'm having my nose pierced with a bone. Our house has had hot and cold barbecues installed, and we've finally found a shop that sells butter and newspapers.

Since we arrived our dog Biff has joined us and loves playing on the beach and running in the sea, trying his best to avoid the sharks and deadly jellyfish. He came home the other day with a jellyfish stuck to his face and we thought he was pretending to be John Hurt in "Alien" when the egg hatched. We did laugh, then donned thick rubber gloves and peeled it off.

Our old car from England has also followed us over. It had to be checked before it was declared legal for our roads, and once it had passed I set out on a short 7000 mile trip to the bread shop to see how it felt. Sadly the trip over by boat must have affected it somehow as it felt a bit rough, spluttering when it started and vibrating a bit, so I took it to a local garage to be checked out.

"Easy enough to fix, mate," the mechanic said. "You need some new plugs, and an anti-flesh-eating-spider baffle fitted to the air vents. As for the judder I'll bank on it being the carburettor."

Jodrell Bank. Oh, that vast white radio telescope on the outskirts of Macclesfield. Won't you please somehow beam me back home to England and save me from this hell-hole?

(Note - this will all make very little sense unless you worked at Xpertise / Xenon Training.)