EXCLUSIVE: Record numbers of cricket fans are jetting off to Oz for the start of the Ashes – but are they missing a trick? Star man Dan Grennan thinks so. Join his most Australian day out ever to save thousands
The looks started on my walk to Brixton tube station. I can’t really blame them as I was decked out in safari khakis with an oversized Crocodile Dundee hat on top and flip flops on bottom.
Far from the ideal clothing for a trip to Brighton on a freezing cold November morning. By the time I got to Victoria Station, the chill in my toes had become harshly numb and the colour suggested early onset gangrene.
The reason for risking life and limb is to prove English cricket fans don’t need to travel 10,000 miles to have a truly Australian experience as the Ashes get underway. After all, the country is only a few hundred years old, what could they possibly offer?
With that in mind, I headed to the sunny-ish beaches of Brighton armed with a four-pack of Fosters, a nose covered in sunblock and a crocodile teeth necklace for the most Australian day ever.
The rain had thankfully cleared off as I made my way to Brighton Pier, which was looking particularly splendid in its grey overcast surroundings. It was like Bondi Beach but without the sand, hot weather, fit sunbathers or sense of glamour.
The locals were amused and perplexed in equal measure at my appearance. Things only got stranger when I whipped out my inflatable Zimmer frame and shuffled along to get a feel for life as an older Aussie cricketer – only one of their players is aged under 30.
Next on our tour was a spot of surfing. I was actually supposed to go on a surfing tour Down Under when I was 16, but the trip was scrapped when I broke my collarbone playing rugby. This was my chance to win back some of that lost time.
We stopped at Brighton Watersports & Sailing Centre, which is conveniently located on the beachfront just off Kings Road, and picked up a board. The waves were flat, so I took a longboard.
Despite the flat conditions of the water, I found it hard to keep my hat on after falling in the drink three times. The water was bitterly cold but served as an effective wake-up call. The pebbles were far worse than the cold and walking across them left me looking like a pillock as I grimaced my way back to my flip flops.
The flock of Gen Z TikTokers pointing their phones at me with expressionless faces completed my embarrassment.
I’m not convinced this experience of surfing lives up to that of the Gold Coast.
Next up on the agenda was Brighton’s nude beach – another chance at acute embarrassment. The 10-minute drive did, however, serve as a golden opportunity to warm up my poor, freezing cold toes.
But now it was time to take on Australia’s attitude to clothing and take it off. I’m not sure how much this can be compared to the famously well-dressed game of cricket but what the hell, throw another shrimp on the barbie.
The first thing I’ll say about stripping off on a cold British beach is the lack of comfort or dignity. So, dear reader, I hope you appreciate my sacrifice.
The second thing I’d like to say is sorry to all the joggers who got an eyeful as they innocently ran by. It is safe to say this would be better in Australia.
All the exercise and nudity had given me a terrible hunger so I headed for a fish and chips supper. Unsurprisingly, Australians also eat this delicious dish by the seaside.
As I sat down with my delightfully hot meal inhaling the steamy wafts of salt and vinegar, a swarm of seagulls gathered overhead. This was my chance to let my inner Steve Irwin, RIP, shine and engage with the local wildlife.
I threw a chip in the air and watched as what felt like hundreds of seagulls descended. Panic rushed through my body as I feared they would come for my chips.
I threw a couple of gloriously greasy chips as far as I could to try and distract the gulls. It worked for a few minutes before interest returned to the tray of chips I was holding.
I only had one option left. Looking like an idiot for the third time in hours, I began screaming and running at the ravenous gulls. To my mild surprise, it worked and the air beasts retreated back to the pier.
Scoffing chips by the sea is better in Blighty because our wildlife is so much tamer.
The afternoon was getting away from us and we were fast losing daylight. There was only one item left on the agenda – throwing back a schooner at the local Australian-themed bar Walkabout.
With a sense of joy and excitement in my heart, we set off for the pub. The thought of a tall golden beer left me salivating but Brighton had other ideas.
The bar had been shut down and taken over by zee Germans! Yes, the Walkabout had become a bierhalle.
With my hopes of a truly Australian ending dashed, I wished g’day to my silly hat and headed for a British boozer, ahh that’s better.
For the latest breaking news and stories from across the globe from the Daily Star, sign up for our newsletters.
#saved #thousands #Ashes #plane #travel #Aussie #day
