Check out the Hyde Park 2009 Photo Gallery
...and don't forget to check out the Neil Young Video clip

The annual Hard Rock Callin' gig in Hyde Park is always a good one and this year featured two classic headliners; Neil Young on the Saturday and Bruce Springsteen and the E-Street band on the Sunday.

Unfortunately, this year tickets were snapped up at an unbelievable rate; so fast in fact that all I could manage to get hold of was a one-day pass for the Saturday. Disappointing, but certainly better than no ticket at all.

And so on a gloriously warm summer afternoon, I headed into London on the train, sweated buckets on the tube due to the inevitable signal failures on the Picadilly line and finally emerged at Green Park (after the tube came to a more permanent halt and we were all kicked off the train). A casual stroll down a shady walkway and across Green park followed and 10 minutes later, I was walking past the touts and through the archway that is the Hyde Park entrance.

Once through the gates, I headed over to the shady south-eastern corner to stand in the blissfully cool mist of the cooling tent, drink a litre of water and then grab a beer before heading over to the main stage in time to catch the second half of the Pretenders. A classic set of tracks included Don't Get Me Wrong, Brass in Pocket and Back on the Chain Gang. A very nice start to the day.

This was followed by a terrific Texas blues set by Seasick Steve and interesting sets by both Ben Harper and the Relentless 7 and the Fleet Foxes. One trick that the organisers seemed to miss this year was the lack of any kind of MC and I hunted high and low for a lineup list without success.

Just as the Fleet Foxes completed their set, the thunderheads that had been gathering on the horizon most of the afternoon, clubbed together and began heading towards the park, with distant flashes of lightning and deep rumbles of thunder giving an ominous feeling. Within a few minutes the first large drops of rain were spattering across the dry dusty paths of the park and then the showers began in earnest.

The more prepared among the crowd popped up umbrellas or donned plastic raincoats (one or two Blue Peter badge holders made use of large black plastic bin liners as makeshift ponchos) while the rest of us rather stupidly clustered under the Oak and Chestnut trees that ringed the grounds. Nobody's spirits were dampened and everyone laughed and joked together as the rain fell hard and fast. 20 minutes later the rain abruptly stopped and people dispersed in good natured anticipation of the headline act.

Promptly at 8pm, Neil Young walked unannounced onto the main stage to the roar of the crowd and before the roar had even begun to subside, he kicked off with Hey hey, my my. Awesome start! This was followed by Mansion On The Hill, Everybody Knows This Is Nowhere and old classics including Cinnamon Girl, Needle And The Damage Done, Comes a time, Heart of Gold and Old Man. Classic numbers all.

Having got the crowd in the palm of his hand, Young played an extended version of Rockin' In The Free World as his finale. For an encore, Young had a real surprise; a version of the Beatles: A Day In The Life...complete with special guest Paul McCartney! Nice encore and the crowd appreciated it, but it was a little disappointing that other classic tracks such as Powderfinger and Like a Hurricane were not on the list.

On the whole, it was a pretty good gig and well worth the ticket price, but as I was heading home, I couldn't help comparing the gig to previous Hyde Park concerts and thinking that I'd seen better.

...but not much better

Check out the Hyde Park 2009 Photo Gallery
...and don't forget to check out the Neil Young Video clip

I've been up to London today to see about some work with an old and valued client (that will make 'em laugh, back in the trenches!) and left London with me fingers crossed...

Also had a couple of calls for other contracts in my line of work; one in Helsinki and the other in London. Both interesting roles, but carrying a significantly higher inconvenience factor (iFactor). You know the story...more time, cost and effort getting to and from the jobs.

I'm getting a bit long in the tooth now and these days, the iFactor has to be compensated properly, before I'll jump on board. Of course, in a recession that's not always the best approach to take, but I still believe enough in my own skills and expertise, to know I'll find a way through...It'll just take longer and be bumpier than it has to be. But hey - sometimes that's more bloody interesting.

Oops. I digress...

In a recent e-mail I sent to an old pal of mine back in NZ, I quoted one of my "21 Rules for Contractors" which was:-

Contractor's Rule #4: No deal is complete until the ink is dry on the paperwork.

After I sent him the e-mail, I got to thinking that somewhere, some trusty IT geek with too much time on his hands, must have made a list of rules for IT Contractors, but a Google Search didn't return much. Sounds like I'm just the nerd for the job...

And so, as the rallying cries fade into the distance, I suck in my gut, stick out my chest, square my jaw and utter my most famous catchphrase...

Aw fuck! not again!

Anyways...here's my cardinal rules for IT contractors everywhere. All suggestions welcome - actually make that...most suggestions welcome. You know who you are

Phil's 21 Rules and Tips for Contractors

• Rule #1: As a contractor, I am here to help where I can. You are paying me by the hour. Try and get the best value you can, wherever possible.
• Rule #2: The Invoice is ALWAYS plus VAT. Please pay promptly.
• Rule #3: As a contractor, I will do my best in an interview to address as many of the client's concerns as possible. Knowing full well that it's probably all about to change anyway.
• Rule #4: No deal is final, until the ink is dry on the contract. But once the deal is struck, it should be honoured by all parties.
• Rule #5: You can expect to be treated as politely and respectfully as you treat me.
• Rule #6: Just try to be realistic in your self-assessment (and I'll do the same).
• Rule #7: I can give you fast, cheap or good. Pick any two.
• Rule #8: TIP: Always be polite to the cleaning and security staff for they have the power to deny your re-entry on a whim.
• Rule #9: TIP: If you have a bright idea, check the IPR clause in your contract, before you open your mouth.
• Rule #10: TIP: Try not to swear too much at the red-tape dimwits, clueless lawmakers and other upper management weasels and remember how much more damaging they are when they are in the productive flow.
• Rule #11: TIP: Get yourself a hobby that has as little as possible to do with technology. Seriously! We all need a break now and then. Music is good.
• Rule #12: TIP: Go easy on the "jargon" whenever possible.
• Rule #13: I believe in the motto: Share the knowledge and screw job security. If you want a secure life, forget contracting.
• Rule #14: Oh and you permie staff - please stop mumbling about how good contractors have it! If it's such a walk in the park, how come you aren't doing it?
• Rule #15: Please document properly. Please?
• Rule #16: TIP: Coffee is always needed. And did you say free food?
• Rule #17: No meetings longer than an hour. Please. I really mean this.
• Rule #18: If a meeting must continue after one hour, it should be continued in a nearby pub wherever possible. It's just more constructive. Honest.
• Rule #19: Sometimes, shit happens. Especially where bloody computers are involved.
• Rule #20: TIP: Remember to be creative where you can, but don't be surprised to see your best ideas shot down in flames. Tomorrow's another day and hell - you may get a better idea.
• Rule #21: When your full set of relevant skills and expertise won't fit into the three pages of your CV no matter how much you trim them, it is time to consider retirement.

Check out the GwenGary website.

In the nearly-19 years that I have lived outside my native New Zealand (and in all my travels around our little blue-green planet), I've seen some pretty impressive sights, had some high times, met some terrific people and marveled at a fair number of wonderful things.

But during a recent trip back to New Zealand, I realised that I've been particularly blessed in one area of life; one that wasn't fully appreciated at the time and one which has only been better appreciated recently.

I'm talking about the place I grew up in.

Because I've never found anywhere else in the world, that I'd rather have spent my most (according to Freud) formative years.

In 1973, my folks decided to depart the suburbs of Auckland and moved their young family to a block of farmland in the Northern Bay of Plenty. It was a pretty bold move to swap the relative security of wage-packet suburbia for the ups and downs of rural self-employment; to be at the mercies of both markets and meteorology. But they wanted a life less ordinary for their family and so they were determined to make it work.

Our new family home on a plot of pasture land was certainly different. For a start it had no house or basic amenities other than water. We initially spent 8 weeks living in a tiny caravan while Dad built the house pretty much from scratch. We heated water on a stove, used an outhouse loo and ran lights on a battery. A very organic existence that has only become popular in more recent years (at the time we simply regarded it as a temporary inconvenience).

They named their little slice of heaven: GwenGary; a pun on their names and our family's Scottish lineage.

When I think back to that time, I mostly remember feeling like I was on some extended form of camp-out, just one that also involved school. It was great!

Once we had a more solid roof overhead, my folks turned their attention to the land itself and in the years that followed, grew one form of citrus fruit or another (mostly tangelos ). Citrus takes a good few years to come into production so cash crops like tamarillos and water melons were grown to pay the bills.

Some of my strongest childhood memories are related to the harvest. Coming home from school, chucking our school bags, books et all into the laundry room just inside the back door before heading out to help with the picking, or into the packing shed, taking our place on the factory floor where we were needed. My folks both expected us to do at least an hour after school each day and a full day on the weekend, reasoning that it was a family business and we were in the family. This was followed by chores, homework, dinner and ablutions (in no particular order).

But it wasn't all work either. Dad's family is fairly large and we often had extended family swinging by to see us. Most of our cousins are male and like all boys we delighted running or riding our bikes everywhere, climbing every large tree on the place or swimming in the pool that my folks put together in later years.

My dad got hold of an old plywood car crate and built us a great a-framed hut on stilts under one of the biggest walnut trees down at the rear of the place. It had it's own bunk bed and even an old crank-handle telephone which ran on batteries and was connected to the house by a wire strung along the top of a fair length of fence. In later years the hut became a sort of toolshed but in it's heyday, it was the coolest place to be an 8-year old boy. At night in the summer we would camp out in the hut, scrump a few apples from next door, tell ghost stories and fall asleep with the window open, listening to the lonely hoot of the Moreporks in the Macracarpa trees.

In later years, the citrus was replaced with kiwifruit. By then I had left home and was living firstly in Wellington and then in Auckland, before heading over to the other side of our big, water-covered rock, in 1990.

This year, while home on a visit, I was able to take part in the kiwifruit harvest for the first time ever. It was very different from the citrus harvests that I remember; all very streamlined, better mechanised, arguably more efficient and certainly faster. But after the harvest was done, the last truck had rolled out and the dust had settled, the land still had the same quiet charm I recall in my memories of a childhood home...

I remember parties and fishing trips, cricket games and tennis matches. I remember bonfires and BBQ's, storms, sunsets and star-filled skies, the first time I swam over 200 lengths of the pool and the time I flew over the handle bars of my bike when a wheel bearing locked up (ouch!).

I remember squeezing fresh tangelo juice and helping make a huge pot of blackberry jam after we stumbled on an enormous bramble patch during an abandoned fishing trip. I remember summer salads of smoked stingray with fresh seasonal veges and winter leg-of-lamb roasts and casseroles. I remember cutting firewood and riding on the tractor mowing lawns, the smell of fresh coffee and the taste of home-made wine.

I remember my first day of college and the last day of many harvests (often followed by a party). The winter frosts and the occasional summer storms. I remember the smell of wet walnut wood and green things growing. And the taste of honeycomb taken straight from one of several hives, once a year.

It was a great place to grow up. And now it's up for sale.

I just hope that whoever buys it, has kids that will love it as much as I should have.

Check out the GwenGary website.

Two weeks ago today, in the wee hours of Wednesday the 13th of May, my plane touched down in Heathrow and I set foot back on the soil of Blighty for the first time in almost 6 weeks.

It's interesting watching how news and current affairs play out around the world. In Bangkok, the news was all about the political unrest and the riots (it's rather disconcerting to catch a glimpse of the hotel you have just left, between rioters on one side throwing molotov cocktails and armed soldiers on the other firing rubber bullets. In New Zealand the headline stories were about a group of students quarantined with possible swine flu (they all eventually tested negative) and the David Bain murder re-trial. In Hong Kong the news was divided roughly between swine flu concerns and the anniversary of the terrible 2008 Sichuan earthquake.

And what was the lead item in Blighty? Sleazy politicans and their dodgy expense claims.

All things considered I guess we are pretty lucky, though having said that, you don't have to dig very deep to realise that the Westminster oinkers have been taking the proverbial Gypsy's to a fairly monumental degree. Witness the huge range of indefensible claims from claims for cleaning moats to travel expenses exceeding £10,000 per annum. At the current HM Customs and Excise mileage rate of 40p for the first 10,000 miles and 25p for every mile therafter, the worm in question (MP Janet Anderson) would have had to cover 41,000 miles - when the hell did she ever find time for sessions in the house or MP surgeries?

Jan was not alone of course; thieving scumbag-itus seems to have infected most of the commons. The largest expense claims come from from Falkirk MP Eric Joyce, who by his own admission appears to have "overcharged £160,000"!

If you want to see a summary, check out the expenses summary page on the BBC website.

If these bastards were in the private sector, not only would they have been drop-kicked out the door without pay, they would have to answer some rather sticky questions by both HM Customs & excise and the Serious Fraud Office. One or two of them would undoubtedly become very familiar with the phrase: "I have no recollection of that event yer honor".

But they arent in the private sector and they are not subject to the same rules as the rest of us. Which is why a few of them have even had the gall to whine and grizzle about being busted with their snouts in the trough.

...and they wonder why we all despise politicans...

Jaysus!

Hong Kong 2009 Photos now available.

Another day comes to an end.

Last night's visit to the Temple St Night Market was a good one. After leaving the Pacific Coffee House, I wandered down to the Market's edge and found a good seat at my favourite roadside restaurant. The place doesn't look like much and the cheap plastic tables and stools don't necessarily get your taste buds into overtime, but the owners cook the best sliced beef and vegetable satay, this side of the Pacific.

I sat in the warm humid afterglow of the afternoon, happily munching on this spicy dish and washing it down with a large chilled bottle of the local Tsing Tsao beer, watching life go by and the stall owners finish setting up for the evening. An hour later I was strolling through the markets, haggling for all I was worth with the stallholders and having a great time into the bargain (no pun intended).

At the end of Temple St, I watched the many fortune tellers plying their trade and as always, it was interesting to see the range of clientele; from wizened little old Haklo boat ladies to young business executives in their tailor-made silk suits, everyone wanted to know what the future held in store for them. Just around the bend is a place I affectionately refer to as: Karaoke corner. Here, the wannabe stars of "Hong Kong's got talent" sing their little selves hoarse, while a couple of volunteers do the panhandling. Chinese singers are not high on my list of musical favourites, but they get full marks for effort.

By around 10pm, I'd had enough and I dragged my tired ass and aching back down onto the MTR and returned to the hotel. After a long soak in a hot tub, I passed out on the bed and the next thing I knew it was 9am and the maid was knocking on the door!

Out and about again today - this time over to the Market st temple, where I burned a stick of incense and said a short prayer to any Gods that might happen to be listening. I'm somewhere between an athiest and an agnostic in matters of religion and belief, but something someone said to me once has stuck with me; just because we don't believe in the Gods, doesn't mean they don't believe in us.

After a quick lunch of Dim Sum at CMOT's stall on Peking Rd, I hopped back on the MTR and headed out to Tung Chung, right out on the end of the line. This was in order to visit the village of Ngong Ping via a spectacular 25-minute ride on the Ngong Ping cable car. Ngong Ping is home to both the Po Lin Monastery and the famous Tian Tan Buddha and every previous time I have come to Hong Kong, I have somehow run out of time and failed to get over to see both places. This time that wasn't going to happen...

After climbing the 250-step "path to enlightenment" in front of the Buddha (*puff* - *pant*) I was presented with fantastic panoramic views which none of my photos do justice to. The collection of Buddhist relics was a bit interesting, but not very well displayed. Visitors who pay for access to the collection at a cost of $HK23 are funnelled through the interior where all filming is prohibited and suddenly find themselves back outside with the exit door closing behind them. Still, the fee does include a bottle of water and an ice cream...

Back down in Ngong Ping, I grab a free "wish card" from the gift shop and after writing my wish, I tie it to the "Wish Shrine" in the village centre, before strolling back to the Cable car in the warmth of the late afternoon sun.

By the time I reach Tsim Sha Tsui, the sun has set and Hong Kong once again comes into it's element as people surge out of their homes and offices into the cooler evening air.

Think I'll join them...

See ya.

Did you read Part 1 yet?