1. Qualifying. England have got to do it. And that’s worrying. Ever so often they cock it up. And the qualifying campaign for the 2018 World Cup could be the ever so often.
2. Scotland. Russia have won the bid. That is one hell of a long way to go to just to put in a spirited performance – albeit in defeat – against Brazil and then lose 4-0 to Japan. They could have lost at St. James’ Park and then slipped back over the border unnoticed.
3. England. Russia is a long way to go to lose on penalties to Portugal. We could quite easily have done that at home. Or in Portugal. And the players could have done it without wearing gloves.
4. Children. Given that 66% of children think ‘The War Of The Roses’ has something to do with those sweets that aren’t Quality Street, England hosting the 2018 World Cup would have been the perfect opportunity for the BBC to do those profiles of the host country. Like they did in South Africa. They would have taught the youth of the year after the next seven all about England’s rich heritage. Instead they are going to learn about Russian dolls. And I don’t mean Anna Kournikova.
5. Economy. Let me be the first to tell you that Russia is three hours ahead of the UK. That means games during our afternoons. You can bet your last fiver that England will be playing Cameroon on a Wednesday afternoon at about 2pm BST. And it’s a game they are going to have to win having previously lost 2-1 to Romania and drawn 0-0 with a country no one has even heard of. Despite the fact that we will be rubbish, people will still be skipping work to watch the game. It’ll be enough to plunge us into a recession. Probably the same one we are in now.
6. Press. If England do make it through to the World Cup, for one whole day Sky News will be covering the ‘England Leave For Russia’ story. We’ll have to endure watching the England players walk up some steps and onto a plane. Probably followed by Gazza with a fishing rod and a bucket of chicken. Then six hours later we’ll have to watch them walked off the plane in Moscow. Followed by a drunk Gazza with a fishing rod and no chicken.
7. It’s Coming Home! If England had won the bid, we could have listened to this song while it made sense. Now, we’ll have to listen to it trying to work out how Russia is the home of football. And Baddiel and Skinner will be 54 and 61 respectively. They’ll have probably gone all Chas’n’Dave on us.
With Christmas less than four weeks away now, I last night decided to browse the web for present inspiration. Having examined the merits of both vacuum cleaners and laundry baskets alike, I came across this mug. A mug that Jamie Oliver has got someone to design for him. The spiel accompanying the Foxy Lady mug says, ‘This Is The Perfect Gift For Everyone’. Incorrect. The only thing it is perfect for is a 7 Reasons post. For these people, it most certainly is not perfect.
1. My Mum. I am sure my Mum had her moments in her younger days – and according to ‘friends’ at school during her middle years too – but they are moments I do not wish to know about. My Mum is my Mum. Good at cooking, ironing, forwarding mail and reminding me when it’s my Grandmother’s birthday. In other words, she’s great. Generally when she has performed these tasks well, I say, ‘Thanks Mum’. And that’s where it ends. Never have I found myself uttering the words, ‘Thanks Mum. By the way, you are seriously foxy today.’ I suspect such a statement would be followed by many years of uncomfortable silence. As a result, I shall not be buying my Mum this mug.
2. My Dad. For as long as I can remember, my Dad has been a man. It is never something I have felt the need to question him on – probably because he has a beard. If indeed he had a spell as a Foxy Lady sometime in the mid-1970s – which I suppose is a possibility given that he was in the Navy – well that is entirely his own affair and something that deserves to remain a secret. The last thing we need as a family is for me to embarrass him on Christmas Day by giving him this mug.
3. My Brother. Again, definitely a man. Given his disheveled archaeologist looks, he is highly unlikely to be masquerading as a Lady. And even if he were, it’s nigh on impossible that he’d described as a foxy one.
4. My Grandmother. I don’t need to explain myself. All I will say is that this post gets more wrong the further down the page you read.
5. Yoko Ono. As a bizarre looking woman/prominent anti-hunt protester, a Foxy Lady mug is more patronising than perfect.
6. Megan/Samantha/Edward/Ruel Fox. There are very different reasons why a Foxy Lady mug is not the perfect gift for these four people. But thankfully not enough reasons to convince me to write a whole other post. If I was to give a Foxy Lady mug to either Megan or Samantha Fox I’d have a lot of explaining to do. So I shan’t. Not that I was planning to anyway. And if I was to buy Edward or Ruel Fox a Foxy Lady mug I’d have even more explaining to do. Mainly to myself.
7. Me. Occasionally I do buy myself presents. Last week, for instance, I bought myself a haircut. And very pleased with it I am too. I look much more like the Jonny Wilkinson my girlfriend wants me to look like by the hour. And that has to be a good thing. For both of us. A Foxy Lady mug would just spoil all my hard work. So instead, I am going to spend £10 on a rolling pin so I can keep injuring myself.
Hello! It’s Wednesday, and regular 7 Reasons (.org) readers might be surprised to find a guest post here. But today is special. Because today is the day that The Ashes begins, and I can’t begin to tell you how excited the 7 Reasons team are by this. Well, I could begin, but I’d never be able to stop myself and we’d all miss the cricket while I babbled on and on. So, joining us on the 7 Reasons sofa today is Sir Straussy who has taken time out from his busy cricketing and tweeting schedule to explain why he’s backing us to win The Ashes. And by us, I sincerely hope he isn’t referring to the 7 Reasons team; that would be a disaster.
Disclaimer: The views expressed by the England Captain are entirely his own and do not represent those of 7 Reasons (.org)*
1. It’s In The Toss. This is nothing new, but Ricky Ponting and I are tossers. We have to be. It’s in the contract. To be a captain you must be a tosser. And I am very proud to be both. So is Ricky. The difference between us is that, while I’m a good tosser, he’s a useless tosser. The stats don’t lie. Using the motto ‘tails never fails’ I have won 59% of tosses as England captain, Ricky has won a mere 49% in his role as an Australian tosser. And with the toss being so crucial these days, that 10% will give us the edge. But, I hear you ask, what happens if tails fails? Is that it? Shall we give up? Forget about this Test? No, certainly not. Again, let’s examine the stats, in the 41% of matches in which tails never fails has gone tits down, I have led England to victories 64% of the time. And as for Punter? Well, under his tossership, Australia have won just 30% of the Tests in which he has lost the toss. So, just remember, if my tossing goes wonky, don’t worry, I still produce results.
2. Younger, Fitter, Stronger. Assuming we go into the first Test with the team I want and Australia go into the first Test with the team I want, the average age of the England team is going to be twenty years lower than that of our counterparts. And even if Australia don’t go with Dame Edna Everage and Bill Lawry, our boys will still be younger on average. If the probable teams that have been bandied about in the papers for the last few days are to be believed, we’ll step onto the field with the average age of 28 years and six months. Australia will wheel themselves onto the field averaging 31 years. That age difference means we’re much fitter. Just take a look at our bodies. No one can tell me Dougy Bollinger is fitter than pin-up sensation Stuart Broad. Or Simon Katich is fitter than Brighton favourite Jimmy Anderson. Or podge-face Punter is fitter than the hairy-armed version of myself.
3. The Hair Apparent. According to the internet, the American writer, actor and comedian Larry David once said, ‘Anyone can be confident with a full head of hair, but a confident bald man – there’s your diamond in the rough’. He was talking about Matt Prior. The one player in world cricket whose surname inexplicably can’t be used with an O or Y to form a nickname.
4. Names. And talking of nicknames, should you wish to use ours on the Scrabble board we will score you an average of 9.5 points per player. That’s a staggering 0.9 points more than the Aussies. When you also throw into the equation that this includes the nickname-less Prior, it almost defies belief. How is this going to help us win the Ashes though? Well, it’s not directly, it was more an observation I made playing online scrabble with Lady Straussy. But it did get me thinking. Us English and South African-English just whack a Y on the end of a surname and be done with it. We then get on with the cricket. The Aussies though, well judging by some of the nicknames for their players, I imagine they spend a great deal of time in the middle trying to think of something wondrous. That must be why Haddin is called BJ, Bollinger is called Eagle, North is called Snorks and the 27 year-old new boy, Xavier Doherty, is called X. You need to concentrate on the game in this game, not faff around thinking of schoolboy nicknames. In some ways this is why I hope Usman Khawaja plays. Though I suspect he’s called Koala.
5. The KP Factor. With his Movember challenge nearly at an end – a contest Monty has dominated from an early stage – and his blindfold cricket ‘viral’ video for Brylcreem out of the way, KP now has the chance to concentrate on what he loves. And, talking about love, the other day the lads saw that the fat lad Warney had said KP needed loving again. So that’s exactly what we have given him. Lots of it. Aussie, watch out.
6. Midge. That’s the nickname of Mitchell Johnson, presumably because like a midge he has no sense of co-ordination. Anyway, he has vowed to make me crumble. Which is lovely. I’m looking forward to it at tea. But Midge has also vowed to make me suffer under a bouncer barrage. This goes back to the 2006/7 Ashes where I fully admit I got out hooking twice. Midge wants to exploit this perceived weakness. Given that I was caught behind four times in the same series, one could be forgiven to think I am far more susceptible to the one that pitches in the corridor of uncertainty and moves a fraction away off the seam. Mind you, Midge’s corridor of uncertainty is only slightly smaller than Steve Harmison’s, so perhaps that’s what he means anyway.
7. We Are England! To paraphrase Hugh Grant, ‘We may be an England cricket team, but we are a South African one too. A country of Allan Lamb, Basil D’Oliveira, Tony Greig, Robin Smith, Robin Smith’s brother. Nasser Hussain’s index finger. Nasser Hussain’s middle finger come to that. And a friend who bullies us is a Commonwealth country that wants to become a Republic. And since bullies only respond to strength, from now onward, I will be prepared to whip out my guns more often. And the whole of Australia should be prepared for that.’ Actually, it sounds much better like this.
*Unless he makes fun of Ricky Ponting or the French.
If you are British, you may be asking why our Government is helping to bail out Ireland. Well wonder no longer. It is quite simple. Ireland has given so much to the UK. So much. We owe them.
1. Music.‘Some people say I look like me dad. What?! Are you serious?’ As I am sure you are all aware, they are the very first lines of the B*Witched classic, C’est le vie. And it’s only by listening to those words that you can really appreciate just how good The Spice Girls actually were. And that has to be a worth rewarding, doesn’t it?
2. Alcohol. From Guinness to Baileys to Bulmers/Magners and back to Guinness again. The Irish know how to drink. Sadly, many Briton’s don’t, which is why…
3. Hurling – a pursuit played out on the fields of Ireland – has become particularly popular on the streets of the UK. Just after closing time. And that in turn is why the British paracetamol industry remains so strong. Thanks Ireland.
4. James Bond. It is not often said that Pierce Brosnan did for Britain’s finest secret agent what Nasser Hussain did for the England Cricket team, but it’s true. Both picked up a beleaguered enterprise and through sheer bloody mindedness and the help of their respective peers in the form of Dame Judi Dench and Duncan Fletcher, turned it into something quite beautiful. Or at least passable. Better than it was anyway. And for that we should be eternally thankful. No one wants to watch Licence To Kill followed by the 1989 Ashes highlights.**
5. Sir Terry Wogan. Not only did he provide a superior earful for the more sophisticated radio listener than say Christopher Moyles, he also made the debacle that is The Eurovision Song Contest relatively enjoyable. Mainly because he talked over both presenters and songs alike. While slowly getting sloshed on whiskey. And getting away with it. He also introduced me to Gina G. And when you are twelve you like that kind of thing.
6. Leprechauns. Oddly, and rather ridiculously in my opinion, the people of the UK seem to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day more than St. George’s Day, St. Andrew’s Day and St. David’s Day combined. But at least on 17th March Trafalgar Square is full of honorary Leprechauns instead of bloody pigeons.
7. Home Comforts. Wherever I have been in the world, I always find an Irish pub. Not on purpose, it’s just there. Being all Irish at me. And it’s a nice feeling. Not because it adds to the ambiance of the street, but because I know I’ve found somewhere to watch the rugby. And for that I have always been eternally thankful.
*e
**If ever you wanted an example of a reason where I start writing without an idea of where it is heading, this is it.
Ever wanted to know who writes what and when here at 7 Reasons? No, neither did I. But I didn’t want to go to school either and I did that. So here are the stats behind 7 Reasons. And they are all accurate, except where I have made them up.
A few weeks ago – much to the consternation of Italy – I went to Rome. Accompanying me on the epic trip was my girlfriend. While I have covered why Rome and I disagreed in great depth here, I did not speak about our flight home. A flight which split my girlfriend and I up. Though only for two and a half hours. For the duration, I sat next to a woman who seemed interested in children’s illustration. While my girlfriend sat next to a strange man. And an annoying man. That’s one person, not two. This is Claire Quinn’s story.
Google Images' Most Popular Annoying Passenger
1. Newspaper. Folding, unfolding, folding, unfolding, folding, unfolding. Rustling, crumpling, rustling, crumpling, rustling, crumpling. All the time. I don’t even think he could read.
2. View. It would have been lovely to see the sunset over Europe, instead I saw the back of a man’s head. And a newspaper.
3. G&T. This was a kind of torture. I wanted a G&T, he had a G&T. I couldn’t have a G&T as someone had to drive us home when we got back to Heathrow. (When I say ‘us’ I don’t mean the annoying man, I mean the strange man. Jon.) But the annoying man didn’t seem to care about any of this, so he sat there drinking his G&T. Slowly. That is not the way to drink a G&T.
4. Lemon. Apart from being a lemon, he had a lemon. It was in his G&T, then it was in his mouth. And he was chewing it and chewing it and chewing it and chewing it. And then he rustled his newspaper.
5. Coat. The annoying man was wearing the thickest coat that I have ever seen. It was so thick he probably should have had a seat of it’s own. But it wasn’t so much the coat that annoyed me as the fact that he was wearing his coat. Who wears a coat on a plane? What did he have to hide? Thinking about in now though, I am glad I never found out.
6. Fidgeting. As if the rustling and the crumpling and the folding and unfolding and the chewing and the chewing wasn’t enough, he was also a fidgeter. His legs were jigging up and down as if he was on of those wind-up toys. Shame he wasn’t. I’d have put him in reverse and destroyed the mechanism.
7. Earplugs. The most annoying thing – yes, all the above were relatively minor – is that he wouldn’t have realised just how annoying he was because he was wearing earplugs. So he didn’t hear any of the crumpling and rustling and folding and unfolding and chewing and jigging. None of it. He just enjoyed the silence. Or maybe he knew how annoying and loud he was which is why he wore earplugs? So he didn’t have to listen to it. That just makes him even more annoying.
1. Brothers. I am going to state a well-known fact here, so bear with me. It’s important. Harry is younger than William. As an older brother myself, I like to try and set an example for my younger sibling to follow. What I don’t like, is when he goes off at his own tangent and out does me by doing it his way. Which is what he did with exams. And girls. It basically makes me feel like a loose part. The thing is though, he bloody loved it. And he’s not alone. All younger siblings like getting one over their elders. And what better way for Harry to ‘reign’ on William’s parade, by getting married now? To some girl called Bianca. From Essex.
2. Hyperbole. Unless you have been stuck on the toilet since early Tuesday morning, you will have seen the hyperbolic attention that the pending marriage between William and Kate has received. (I was very tempted to write hyperbollocks, but didn’t as my Mum might learn how to use a computer one day and read this). Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I am not very happy for them, I am. Indeed, in my role as a proud Briton and appreciator of our history I will no doubt raise a Pimm’s on the day. It’s just that so much has been spoken and yet so much of it is just nonsense. On Wednesday Jeremy Vine decided that the discerning Radio 2 listener had the ability to offer our future Queen advice. I switched off. I may be very wide of the mark, but I suspect that should Miss Middleton need advice she is far more likely to phone her Mum than download a Jeremy Vine podcast. And basically, my point is that Prince Harry should get married now, so that we don’t have to listen to all this claptrap again in five years.
3. Journalism. It’s a headline writer’s dream. You probably haven’t realised this yet, what with Wills’ wedding overshadowing absolutely everything, and not caring and all, but Harry rhymes with marry. That’s right! We can expect to see Happy Harry to Marry (Daily Mail), A Harriage Made In Heaven (Daily Star), and Son of Murdered Diana to Wed (Daily Express). And now that there are civil partnerships his options aren’t limited to marrying a Carrie, he can marry a Barry or a Larry too. Or a Keith.
4. Tradition. Over the past century or so, royal standards have eroded to the point where it’s now commonplace for royals to marry commoners. That’s right; the likes of you. William is marrying one as well. But there’s still hope. Harry can turn back the tide of decay by choosing to have a proper royal marriage to a girl that he’s related to. And that will be a return to the grand royal tradition, to the days when the many crowned heads of Europe would assemble for important gatherings at which there would be several hundred attendees, but only one face, and the only way to distinguish between any of them would be their facial hair and – in the case of the Kaiser – his pointy helmet and his propensity to invade the drawing room.
Where's Willhelm?
5. Hair. Let’s face it, His Royal Highness, Prince Henry Charles Albert David of Wales has a ginger bonce. Given the family propensity for hair loss – and we have no reason to assume that this will skip a generation, none whatsoever – he’s likely to be both balding and ginger soon. He needs to marry at once in order to avoid looking like a cross between Patsy Palmer and Prince Edward in his wedding pictures, because there is nothing in Photoshop that can rescue that. Nothing.
6. Divorce. Whenever anyone gets divorced, it’s sad. Even if there is much jubilation from both parties. To think that once these two people loved each other so much that they wanted to make that vision of spending the rest of their lives together a reality. Or they met in Las Vegas. Either way, come the final separation, there is sadness. I defy anyone who says otherwise. Unfortunately, for whatever reason (again, probably seven) the incumbent Royal Family have a history of unhappy marriages. So much so that they have employed a designer to add a little sparkle to their divorce papers. Because it will almost certainly happen again. Though I think it is unlikely to be William and Kate. I suspect, if you walked into any betting shop, you would find the odds on Prince Harry getting divorced to be much shorter than those of his brother. And while I hope it doesn’t happen, it may. And if it does Prince Harry may wish to find someone else to spend his time with. Which leads me nicely onto the point of this reason. If Prince Harry marries right now, he has more time in the future if it goes wrong.
7. It’s The Economy, Stupid. In case you haven’t noticed, Britain is in a recession. And it isn’t going well. To cut costs, we’re going to share the defence of the realm with the French (which is actually a good idea…for a sitcom. Or for Germany) and, if the recession hits any harder we’ll have to take more drastic action: Swingeing health cuts or selling the Queen or something. But wait! According to esteemed financial publication, The Sun, the forthcoming wedding of Wills and Kate will boost the economy by a billion pounds. That’s right. A billion pounds. So if Harry gets married sharpish, that’ll be two billion pounds into the nation’s coffers. And if we can get them breeding, in twenty or thirty years time, with the resultant glut of royal weddings, Britain will once again become one of the most prosperous nations on the planet.*
I am not the biggest Ian Dury fan, if he’s not encouraging people to hit him with their rhythm sticks he’s giving reasons as to why we should be cheerful. And, as I am sure you are aware by now, that’s our job. Following on from the world-wide success of analysing the New Radicals’ Someday We’ll Know and Owl City’s Fireflies, I thought I’d try and rip both the heart and soul out of Ian Dury’s Reasons To Be Cheerful: Part 3. The problem is, he gave so many reasons this is only part one. This could also be construed as bad news. Very bad news.
1. Some Of Buddy Holly. While Buddy did enlighten our lives with classic such as ‘Peggy Sue’, ‘Oh Boy!’ and ‘That’ll Be The Day’ he also died in a plane crash. So you have to ask, which part of Buddy Holly actually made Ian Dury cheerful? I suspect his glasses.
2. The Working Folly. In 1979 times were tough. A bit like today. Now, I am not going to pretend I know what Ian Dury meant by ‘The Working Folly’, but I can see two possible meanings. A) The workers of the day were foolish. B) It was foolish to be working. Let’s analyse each of these. Beginning with A. The workers of the day were foolish. I don’t see why this would make you cheerful. Now let’s move to B. It was foolish to be working. I don’t see why this would make you cheerful. Right, that’s that covered then.
3. Good Golly Miss Molly. You can decide for yourselves but I fail to be cheered by a man who looks like Danny Glover, Whitney Houston, Chris Kamara, Oprah and Eddie Murphy rolled into one. It’s very unnerving. If you don’t believe me, take a look here. He’s the one who appears after the bloke who looks like John Goodman.
4. Boats. What, like ferries and fishing trawlers? Yes, they’re lovely. Or perhaps you mean those big ships that keep you hostage for weeks? You know, cruise liners.
5. Hammersmith Palais. It closed in 2007. Someone tried to get planning permission to build student flats on the site.
6. Bolshoi Ballet. When you think about it, the Bolshoi Ballet is a bit like a fraternity. A brotherhood. A club. A cult. Children from as young as the age of nine are roped into the Bolshoi Ballet Academy and face a life of being forced to wear tutus and stand on their toes. And then, in a move of grotesque public humiliation, they are forced to perform in front of an expectant audience.
7. Jump Back In The Alley. Goodness knows where this alley is, but my research shows that it is probably a place where a lot of impromptu sexual acts happen. Disgusting. Get a room and shut the curtains. Or better still, go home and watch the cricket. You’ll feel much more cheered. And less dirty.
Yesterday I made an omelette. Two in fact. While I don’t except any congratulations for this – I have, after all, done the same many times before – I am not averse to receiving any adulation you wish to bestow. That said, given the state of the second omelette – the one I had – you may find it more fitting to belittle and mock. I won’t hold it against you if this is your choice. I am, however, going to explain why the second omelette was such a disaster. There are – as I am sure you would expect – mitigating circumstances surrounding the event. Probably seven.
1. Rushing. I don’t know whether you have ever made two omelettes before, I suspect you are not as maverick as I and as such have not. Let me tell you now though, it is not as easy as it sounds. Unless you are a greedy bugger – or hungry – the chances are you are making two omelettes because there are two people wishing to have one. This was the case last night. I wanted one. My girlfriend agreed that she would have one. Being nice and not wishing to relinquish control of the frying pan, I made my girlfriend her omelette first. But then I wanted to eat mine with her. (I have long suspected we are the last two romantics in the Maidstone catchment area.) As a result I rushed the manufacture of my omelette. And as I am sure you are aware, a premature omelette is not an omelette at all. It’s a mess.
2. The Difficult Second Omelette. We have all heard of the phrase, ‘the difficult second album’. Apart from maybe Oasis. And Toploader. Though admittedly Toploader struggled with their first album too so maybe that doesn’t count. Anyway, I digress. My point is that the pressure was on and, instead of just concentrating on making the second omelette the best it could be, I tried to make it as good as the first omelette. As soon as I did that I was in competition with myself. And I cracked under the strain.
3. Whisking. The trick with making a good omelette mixture is not too whisk it too much. I forgot that it had been whisked before the making of omelette number one. So I whisked before construction of number two. The result was too light and runny. As a result I got air pockets under my omelette. I was trying to salvage the mission from that point on. And that is not an environment conducive to success.
4. Mixture Fail. There is also another reason omelette one was more a success. There was enough mixture to comfortably fill the frying pan. When it came to the second effort, there wasn’t. I’ll be honest. I was stretching the credibility of myself as an omelette maker here. Without enough mixture I added a little milk straight into the frying pan. That was stupid. The frying pan spat it back at me.
5. Tosser. To toss or not to toss? This question is widely debated in omelette making circles. I adhere to the point of view that – before filling is added – the omelette should be tossed. Yesterday, I tossed one of the omelettes and didn’t the other. I’ll let you guess which is which.
6. Filling. We have a rule in our house. As I am the man, I have more food. I like this rule and I didn’t even think of it. So when it came to filling the omelettes, I made sure there was more filling for me. Unfortunately, the amount of filling was calculated on how big the omelette would be. As my omelette was 80% of it’s intended size I really should have put 80% of the filling inside. But I didn’t. I’m a man. So I put it all in. And then I tried to fold the omelette in half. And that is when it snapped at the seams.
7. Manoeuvring. Taking the omelette from pan to plate should be a simple process. Assuming you have actually made an omelette it is possible to tilt the pan and watch the omelette slide into position. Which is what happened with omelette one. Omelette two though wasn’t an omelette. It was a mess. And the mess containing cheese which was now sticking to the pan. I had no option but to shovel it out. And that’s what I did.
If you are one of these hipsters who likes to engage in social networking via the likes of facebook and twitter, it is very likely that one, two or maybe all of your friends have posted a ‘funny’ piece of travel advice they have found on Google Maps. I say ‘funny’ in inverted commas because it is actually a very serious matter. The matter I refer to is the ‘joke’ that tells prospective travellers to make the journey from the USA to Japan via the Pacific Ocean in a kayak. How utterly irresponsible. There are many, many reasons why one should not do as Google Maps suggests, but to save my sanity (and your life) here are just seven.
1. Food. An average kayaker will travel at 5mph. Given that Google Maps says the distance – via Hawaii – between USA and Japan is 2,756 miles, it will take the adventurer just over 551 hours to make the journey. That’s a touch under 23 days. That’s 23 days worth of food you have to take with you. Now, assuming – as is very likely considering the departure point – that the traveller is American, that’s 89,537 calories. Or 92.7 Big Mac Meals. A kayak has storage for about 20 Big Mac Meals. You do the maths.
2. Sharks. The good news is, that out of the 440 species of shark found on our planet, only 36 of them exist in the Pacific Ocean. (Approximately. I am sure others visit for a day now and then.) Unfortunately, within the 36 species is the Great White Shark. The Great White Shark accounts for 20% of worldwide shark attacks. And, just before you come back at me with the stat, ‘of the 108 unprovoked attacks within the Pacific Ocean in the 20th century, only five included kayakers,’ let me tell you that there has never, ever been a Great White Shark attack on a plane.
3. Paddle. You may have heard of the phrase, ‘Up the creek without a paddle’. For those of you who haven’t, it basically means you are in a very serious situation and you haven’t got a bloody clue how you are going to get out of it. If you drop your paddle between the USA and Japan, you can change the word ‘creek’ for ‘Pacific’ but you can’t change the meaning.
4. Iodine. The average human will die if they go for more than three days without water. Luckily, in the Pacific Ocean you will find loads of it. Unluckily, if you drink too much of it, you will also die. That’s because it’s saltwater. If you are going to survive you are going to have to desalinate the seawater. You can do this by either attaching a desalination plant to your kayak – in which case you’ll sink before you even leave the beach – or you can use iodine. You will have to leave ten Big Mac Meals behind, but to survive it is probably worth it. The problem comes when you try and desalinate your beaker of water. You’re in a kayak. On the ocean. It’s bumpy. You have your paddle in one hand, the iodine in the other and the beaker between your legs. Now, I’ve never tried desalinating my penile appendage, but if I did, the middle of the Pacific Ocean, in a kayak, is a place where I know I couldn’t possibly fail. Unless…
5. A Sudden Wave hits the kayak. In which case the iodine might go overboard and desalinate the whole of the Ocean. You are going to murder many, many saltwater fish. And you’re heading to Japan. A country that’s built on fish (one in ten fish is eaten there). They’re not going to greet you warmly are they?
6. Tankers. Generally these are big ships who have very little interest in small-fry like you in your kayak. Mainly because they are always on auto-pilot while the captain has a snooze. If you just happen to be having a snooze at the same time, you are going to get crushed. And, just a warning, if you do survive, there is no point in shouting ‘Tanker!’ at them and waving your fist, if you do, you’ll miss the giant squid that’s about to squirt you with ink.
7. Jovan Pestoric Will Kiss You. In doing my research for this post – I came across the following Yahoo! Answers page where Lovely had asked if it was possible to kayak across the Pacific Ocean. There were only a few answers. One gave Lovely some valuable advice and advised it was not possible. They then said ‘Have fun!’. Then Javon Pestoric announced, ‘yes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! omg if u do it ill kiss u’. I have no idea who Jovan is and, if watching people kayak over the Pacific Ocean is his kind of fetish, I don’t think I want to know either.
