The 50th post involved a familiar topic...

Cheers for beers! Yes, that's right. How could a visit to Ireland not involve catching up with a trusted confidant? As you may have guessed, JB has just returned from the Guinness Storehouse in Dublin, a virtual shrine to the big, black stuff. I'm now spending an hour in an Internet cafe, which is a much better proposition than dodging heavy rain without an umbrella or parka, both of which were left back at the hostel for some stupid reason. But finding €40 in the process has more than made up for things despite the onset of a cold.

Do I get to run through a banner, similar to footballers, upon reaching this important milestone? Fortunately (or unfortunately), I've managed to ramble on about my travels and other things close to my heart on 50 separate occasions since May. Recently, there's been a few problems with people being able to access pictures and other content on the site. I'll quote my good mate back home - who also likes beer - Paraletic Paramedic. The other day he wrote: "Had some trouble with the blog in the last few days in getting access ... hope it's just me and not some underlying issue." Hope so.

I'm not sure whether I'll rush back to Dublin in a hurry. I'll sum the place up in two words: cold and expensive. A McDonald's value meal provides anything but value. But maybe I'm just cranky as this flu is getting the best of me, despite my best endeavours. I'm going on a three-day tour this Friday to the western part of Ireland where prices and the weather will hopefully be more kind to a battle-weary traveller.

Aside from being one large global pub crawl ...

Here's some pictures to prove that I've seen more than just the inside of a hotel during my three-month journey so far. On the left is me with a happy old geezer who played the bagpipes at Edinburgh Castle on Thursday. It was music to my ears. On the right, two mountains - one natural, one man-made - on a trip to the Scottish Highlands on Wednesday.

Good always triumphs over evil ...

Far from a foreign experience, Cousin Slugg and Can't Stop The Rush took me to a London pub today to watch the AFL GF. For the foreigners, this is the pinnacle of one of the best sports in the world, Aussie Rules. Our football's Super Bowl. What was foreign was getting up in the morning's early hours and cracking open the first beer just before 4.30am. Sort of like going to the Anzac Day dawn service with a traveller. We had wisely decided against staying up the whole night.

Can't Stop The Rush was his solid self but after talking a big game, Cousin Slugg, had a shocker. Just moments after our arrival at The Slug and Lettuce (he had no excuses, this Fulham icon is even named after him), the self-proclaimed Slugger went to the bar, presumably, to get his "teammates" a beer. He came back with a drink. Not three drinks. One. And it wasn't even a beer but rather a nasty concoction known as a snakebite, the unfortunate combination of beer, cider and raspberry cordial. While I admit to drinking two (they were included in the £10 cover charge), it's no wonder why they haven't taken off back home. Truly awful.

Then Cousin Slugg started to yawn. He denied taking an injury into the match but we'll agree to disagree. The dynamic duo are sleeping on what is turning out to be (hold breath) a nice sunny day in London.

JB was in fine form consuming a pair of meat pies and a celebratory VB for the world-record price of £3.10 following one of the greatest contests in recent memory. Apart from letting me sleep on their couch, I thank the Rayman and UDI Can for a solid week of pub patronage in Glasgow as perfect preparation in the lead-up to my first game since early July. I'm sure that dynamic duo and friends are making light work of the two slabs of Victoria's Best in Glasgow that the Rayman bought for the pricey sum of £30 each earlier in the week. Meanwhile, as the London trio walked back home, they saw a Swans fan, decked out in the heritage jumper say, and I quote (with many expletives deleted): "Ohmigod, best day of my life. I have waited 72 years for this day... I'm only 18." A likely story.

It was a wee ripper ...

I knew it wouldn't be long before the calls came. Where are you? Or, more importantly, what's happened to the blog, which is continuing to impress, even in Wisconsin where Clintorious, the artist formerly known as Clintor from Rivjuando's buck's party wrote: "I dig your blogs."

I've been in absentia for a number of days and that'a due to a number of things. It could be best summed up by an e-mail I received from LD, which I read just a few moments ago: "Hey, I am swamped with work, but I’m a little worried about you ... no blog entries. Hope you are just having too much fun to write."

Indeed, it has been fun. Since my American tour of duty ended on Wednesday when I flew back to the Mother Country, I might as well have had beer inserted via an IV drip. Needless to say, the body and the wallet have taken a massive hit. The honeymoon with United Kingdom prices is well and truly over, although my Aussie hosts in Glasgow, UDI Can and the Rayman, took me to a pub that had £1.50 Crownies. And it wasn't a Walkabout!

Cousin Slugg returned from a "work cruise" on Saturday and we went to Notting Hill and the Portobello Market before reuniting with The Settle Inn for what started to be a really big night. While Can't Stop The Rush slept until 4pm the next day, we both went back to The Settle Inn for the legendary roast chickens dinners they serve on Sundays.

Bussed it to Glasgow on Monday where JB's tour of Anglo-speaking countries continued. Did I mention I'm going to Ireland next Tuesday for a week? Oh well. Scotland is an awesome place. I feel partly guilty for spending an hour in a little Internet cafe in Edinburgh right now but the public have a right to know!

In short, I did a tour of Glasgow on Tuesday and went to the Scottish Highlands yesterday. Nessie was nowhere to be seen, but what I did witness was some mindblowingly beautiful landscape. Today, I've enjoyed the totally Scottish experience of Edinburgh before I head back to Glasgow for my final night and for more cheap Crownies. We'll have some Scottish drinks too, including Irn-Bru, which along with chips and gravy are a magical hangover cure. Not that I've needed them.

Even though they knocked Geelong out of the finals race, I'm hoping Sydney beat West Coast in the AFL GF. Along with many other Aussies, I'll be waking up at 4am on Saturday morning and watching it at a pub in Fulham.

I crossed the Atlantic yesterday ...

How could I not pay tribute to Chicago on this here blog? I absolutely love this city. Chi-Town is like the girl you want to take home to your folks: clean, hospitable, sports crazy but has lots of culture too. A sight for sore eyes! Indeed, there is something for everyone. This is one of my favourite pictures with the old dame down at Navy Pier on Tuesday, a day where I managed to pack a few activities in.

The only downer about the limited time I spent in Chicago was the end of the streak! That's right, the Chicago Cubs broke JB's undefeated record on Monday night with a 5-2 loss to the Cincinnati Reds. And Ken Griffey Jr was not in the line-up! My final record ends at 5-1 for the home team. Admittedly, I didn't see a lot of this game as the beer and peanuts provided a good distraction but Wrigley Field is a magnificent place to watch baseball. Right up there with Fenway Park.

I told someone yesterday that while some people travel overseas to see museums, for me, sports is the main focus and on Tuesday I braved a trip on a bus to the United Center, home of the Chicago Bulls and a massive statue to His Airness aka Michael Jordan. I was the only white person on the bus to and from the arena. Other things I saw and highly recommend were the Sears Tower, John Hancock Center, Millennium Park and Navy Pier. And how could I leave the Windy City without having a Chicago deep dish pizza? I visited Giordano's on Tuesday night, which NBC's Today show said was "Best Pizza in America". It was pretty good, trust me.

Doc, I may have a problem ...

I returned to London yesterday and all I have done is slept basically. The need to sleep has been helped by the absense of 4.30am sunrises that were here last time. I'm not entirely sure about the grey skies and persistent rain that has greeted my second coming though.

But jetlag is not the problem. I was so concerned that I received some medical help during my time in Chicago. Down by Navy Pier, I saw Bob Newhart who played Dr Bob Hartley in some US sitcom and despite being encased in bronze, the good doctor was able to inform me that I had caught the highly addictive and totally contagious travelling bug. And, unfortunately, the only cure is having bags of money!

Mary kicked the extra point ...

Welcome to South Bend, Indiana, a place where religion and football meet, generally at the University of Notre Dame. My good friend, LD, who recently began her post-graduate studies at this esteemed institution has been good enough to take a break from her busy schedule to show me around.

I touched down early Friday morning in Chicago and had some rest after arriving at South Bend, the other SoBe, which is about two hours away if you don't get lost. I'm not saying we got lost, am I? So on Friday afternoon, we visited the College Football Hall Of Fame, where among other things, we were able to take part in a series of interactive exhibits, like kicking field goals and throwing footballs at targets, much like Louie Richards' handball competition. At the ripe old age of 27 and despite the encouragement from my new mates, pictured here, I won't be making my way onto a college football team any time soon.

Indeed, football seems to be a general theme here. Yesterday, we went to an Irish pub and watched the Notre Dame football team (ranked 20th in the nation) beat their more fancied and higher-ranked opponent, Michigan (ranked third in the nation) before a crowd of more than 110,000 in Michigan. The result has the other SoBe in a frenzy. Walking around the hallowed grounds of Notre Dame yesterday, a newly-married couple heard one young (and perhaps inebriated) man say: "We just beat Michigan and you guys just got married!" It was pretty funny stuff.

The university is home to some special landmarks, like the Basilica of the Sacred Heart and the Grotto, a smaller replica of the famed French shrine. There is also a big painting of Jesus, which has been renamed Touchdown Jesus by the students as his arms are raised in the air signifying that the offensive team has just gone over for six points. I'm pictured with First Down Moses. The students might have christened him with that too as that can't be his real name.

We've just come back from a pub where we witnesssed the Pittsburgh Steelers thrash the Tennessee Titans, 34-7, in their NFL season opener. It provided a little bit of joy in what has been a pretty dour week in sports back home. Geelong and Manly were both knocked out of their respective finals races and Australia looks like losing the Ashes which hasn't happened since JB was in primary school. Tomorrow I will train it back to Chicago for, among other things, the final leg of my baseball tour.

The Pacific Northwest has been traumatised and I think I'm the only one, still alive ...

To paraphrase Jimmy Eat World, I have torn up America's West Coast during my month-long visit, seeing the sights of Portland, Salem, Seattle and Vancouver. But all things must come to an end and I'm off to Chicago tomorrow, despite only being halfway through the arduous job of packing. I'm still not sure how I'm going to eventually get my stash home. Doing my best Kenny Callender impression, I'm so stoked about securing some short-term storage space with my gracious Rose City hosts, Rivjuando and Soule Sista.

I had an enjoyable last supper tonight with the happily married pair at Jin Wah in Beaverton before we went to Horse Brass in Southeast Portland, which hosted Rivjuando's bucks party not so long ago. We played darts and I had a sampler of local beers and a not-so-local sausage roll. Twas a nice little English pub and good preparation for a return trip to the United Kingdom in a week. I hope Cousin Slugg and Can't Stop The Rush and everyone else is ready for the sequel!

My hosts (pictured with yours truly) are pleased to know that I'll be back in the PDX later this year for a second tour of duty, which will include going to see Death Cab For Cutie at the Crystal Ballroom on November 16. I want to thank them and their respective families, along with G.I. Vic, Niki Nikon, Katsy K and anyone else who has put up with me during my stay in the Pac NW! I didn't forget about you, Single Forever. I just may have secured you a ticket to the nearly sold-out concert. It will be huge.

Cricket in Canada? You betcha ...

"In my opinion, the Brockton Point ground is the prettiest upon which it has been my pleasure to play. It is a really magnificent setting, and I wish that some of our more important games, such as Test matches, could be played under these ideal circumstances." Those weren't my words but apparently came from the mouth of the late and great Don Bradman, speaking about a ground nestled within Stanley Park in Vancouver. I was surprised to see cricket being played at this picturesque field over the weekend and I was one of the handful watching the game between a group of unknowns. And even in Canada, the talk has been of the Aussies' awful Ashes tour.

Sporting one of the biggest hangovers in recent memory, I embarked on a very long and sobering walk around Vancouver's waterfront on Sunday, not to watch cricket, but to see the renowned totem poles at Stanley Park. The whole area is a fine tribute to a great city. I also saw raccoons and it was alleged that one bit a little girl.

Monday was pretty lazy. More coffee was consumed and my wallet is lamenting the price of a nice latte. I went to North Vancouver to see Grouse Mountain. The view might have been grouse if not for the low-level cloud and gross $C29.99 price tag. The welcome sign was all I witnessed as I headed back to get the free sights on the north side.

I've just returned to Portland this evening after an amazing week in Seattle and Van City to see petrol prices climb above $US3 per gallon. Still cheap by Australian standards and people here still keep driving their gas-guzzling SUVs.

I will miss seeing a random moose in the street and the genial nature of most Canadians but I won't miss wearing the same clothes for days on end or late Amtrak trains. Nor will I miss the position I was put in today. Waiting more than 30 minutes for a cab outside my hostel, I was approached by a man claiming to be HIV-positive. Indeed, he looked pretty ill, needed help and said he had four weeks to live. Sad story really, but I wasn't able to assist, given my last $C10 was needed for the cab to get to the train station. I left Canada with 17 cents in local currency. Whether his story was true, he certainly looked like being on death's door.

OK, I might have been homesick ...

How could I not be? Thanks for bringing it to my attention, my brother, Rogan Josh. The Cats were thrashing Melbourne and I was speaking to my entire family on the telephone who were watching the game and celebrating Poppa Blog's 52nd birthday. Meanwhile, I waited for a train that was more than five hours late.

To cut a long story short, after seeing, hearing, meeting and getting the autograph of the legendary John Vanderslice (another week, another photo with a talented musician), I hot-footed it to the train station, 45 minutes before it was to leave. Then I was told it would be three hours late.

So I went to a local and mixed with the "locals" - Minnesota had just beat the hometown Seahawks in the last preseason game for both teams. Then I went back to Amtrak and was told the train was further delayed. We finally left at 2.15am, more than five-and-a-quarter hours behind schedule and got in to Vancouver at 5.45am. As K-Beezer says, you get served lemons, you make lemonade! Sour lemonade. In short, I missed JV giving me a personal rendition of "Me And My 424" as he said he would. But I did get his autograph and I'm better for it.

Now, I am hammered at Katsy K's place in Vancouver. She's pictured with yours truly. Some sleep would be good but it's all good. Tomorrow (or rather today) I'll try and look around Van City. I also found out that Captain Morgan was really a captain. The story goes that the captain (his first name was Henry) was a legendary buccaneer whose great charm won him the respect of noblemen and the loyalty of his crew. I'm truly vindicated.

How to not promote international relations ...

I did little to further the rest of the world's perception of Australia at the hostel last evening when I proceeded to whip the butts of two Pommies and a Japanese girl at Monopoly. Geez, I love that game. I'm pictured with the loot and a big bottle of Heineken that I bought from the convenience store next door to the hostel. There, I saw a female shopkeeper hit a male shoplifter (as opposed to a shirtlifter) with a rubber mallet. I wish I got that on film! The stupid fool then cried assault before kicking the shopkeeper a few times and running away. Idiot.

I'll cruise around Seattle today and hopefully see one of my favourite singer-songwriters, John Vanderslice, at a record store. Then it's off to Vancouver.

The streak continues ...

Hawaii 5-0, baby! Seattle scored a huge upset over the New York Yankees on Tuesday night with me in the stands. Again I was lucky with the scalpers, getting a $US50 ticket for half price and in my five appearances at a major league game, the home team has won every time. I contemplated going on Wednesday night, but chose to go up the Space Needle and consequently New York beat the Mariners 2-0. After a brief hiatus, my disgust for the Yankees continues to simmer.

Via telephone hookup the other day, Poppa Blog lamented the lack of up-to-date updates on the blog. I haven't had much luck with computers recently, as he well knows. The hostel may have free Internet, but they also use the little-known Lindows operating system. True story. And I thought Seattle was the home of Microsoft? On the other side, I found this neat little coffee shop which has free Internet access and a card reader. And no, it's not Starbucks but rather the Online Coffee Company, situated on First Avenue.

AC Literally said the blog was "looking locked and loaded" and was providing much entertainment. Atomic Bombie issued this quasi-ultimatum: "Now listen, how is it that you get to see AND be photographed with celebrities?" You'll have to talk to Ben Lee about that - when I asked two Japanese ladies if they could take my picture yesterday down near Pike Place Market (where I literally saw fish fly) they ended up getting their individual pictures taken with me. How bizarre! Today I got a picture with the market's famed Rachel The Pig. Seen below, she wasn't that keen on the apple.

This may be off the track but it's good material that can't go to waste. Remember the break that The O.C.'s Seth Cohen had between seasons one and two of the show? That's right (doing my best Seth impersonation), he spent his summer in Portland, OR. At the same time, his buddy, Marissa Cooper, was back in Orange County. When she wasn't chucking tantrums and her family's outdoor furniture in the pool, she was listening to an iPod and trying to get a tan. Recently, I've been Seth and Marissa all rolled into one: sitting by a pool in the PDX with my iPod, glancing at the female talent who have already succeeded in obtaining that essential summer glow. Alas, my poolside streak came to an end earlier this week when we received the first rain since I touched down almost a month ago. I sense the end of summer is near.