MasterChef

We've just had the first series of MasterChef here and it's been a ratings monster. Last night was the final and 3.7m tuned in to watch it (the population's 21m). It was the third highest viewing figures for a show since 2001, with 2004 Australian Idol Final and 2003's final of The Block doing better (they love a bit of reality over here...).

There are articles here and here focussing on the business angle of things for you media buyers and sellers, no doubt saying what you all know in that as the first series of an unknown quantity, and with spots all bought up in advance, Channel 10's big ratings wouldn't have converted into big dollars.

We get the British version of MasterChef over here on UKTV and the main difference here is that they've given it the big X Factor treatment: eleminations, emotional journeys, sad melodies playing in the background as Sam the call centre spaz drivels on about this being the greatest opportunity he's ever had in his life and that it means so much to him, he just wants to make his family proud especially after watching his mum die from terminal wig cancer and his dad running off with his boyfriend... proper TV-off-the-balcony stuff half the time. The three judges are two midget chefs and a fat British food critic based over here called Matt Preston, who's the breakout star, mainly due to being British and wearing cravats.

It was also crap because I picked the bird who won it weeks ago: the white middle-aged mum of three who lived in Woop Woop, worked in IT, had a muzzy that would put Freddie Mercury to shame and just wanted to make 'good Aussie homecooking that the whole family can enjoy'. So she trudged through making roast chicken every second round, and getting massively biased scores from the judges, especially in the final three when she had a massive breakdown and crying fit because of the pressure, failed to finish any of her three dishes and served them all up incomplete. She should have been booted off early, but as she was up against Asians, Aboriginals, young ponces, gays, and just about every other marginal group that had no chance of selling any cookbooks (one of the parts of the winner's prize) it was obvious she was getting picked to win it and make the company money. You know me, I'm not normally the cynical type, but this one was too obvious for even me to ignore.

Talking of shocking decisions, they're not happy over here after beng robbed of three wickets in the last innings, and for those of you who haven't checked out the new ABC sports site I worked on, here's a good opportunity. There's a lot of angry bluster about the spirit of the game and Struass being a cheat here today, as the comments underneath show.

Surfin' Safari

Me and my surfing mate (a lad from Leicester I used to work with at NineMSN, he married an Aussie lass and been here about six years) went up the coast last weekend for a weekend's surfing. We went to Pacific Palms, which is about an hour north of Newcastle and about three and a half from Sydney.

It's got beaches that face all directions, so as long as there's swell coming in from somewhere, you're pretty much guaranteed some waves.

We rented a house, which was cheap as it's winter, but it was still warm and sunny every day, with an easterly swell bringing good waves to one of the beaches. Three days solid surfing (or three days solid paddling about trying to surf...) fair took it out of me and then on the last day I got chucked about by a freak ten foot wave that came tearing into the bay. We were out waiting for a wave when this huge thing came rolling in. When that happens you tear out towards it trying to paddle over the top of it before it breaks, but I paddled up it's face just in time for it to break and it threw me into the air a cracker before spinning me about like a washing machine. Similar to the day of cricket we had for Dan's birthday a couple of years ago, I was shuffling about aching like old man Steptoe for days later... I took the picture above and I've put more on Facebook, including some of the Kookaburras that came and sat on the balcony looking to be fed.

I saw a preview of Bruno a couple of weeks ago, it's alright. It's the same as Borat, but not as funny. The scenes that are set ups seem more obvious than Borat. There's also a scene where he interviews Latoya Jackson and they use Mexicans as furniture to sit on and to eat sushi off, while he asks about Michael and tries to get his phone number out of her Blackberry. Funnily enough that’s been cut from the final version, and if the big close up of a swinging erection makes it in then it'll surely have to be an 18 rating…

The premiere here was funny as a fake Bruno fooled security by turning up in a pink stretch hummer and driving onto the red carpet. He got out with dancers and backing performers and using a megaphone started banging on about Peri-Peri chicken whilst the lasses in shorts danced about and covered themselves in the sauce (video link here). He got bundled away by security sharpish, but it'll be high fives and cigars all round at the Nando's ad agency. There's a quote from one of them saying he was surprised no one had done anything similar at the previous premieres.

The Big Six

There's some new accumulator from the bookies (there's only one in the country allowed to do off-track betting, the TAB) called The Big Six. Made me smile when I saw it.

The country also went lottery mad last week as one of the weekly draws rolled over a few times and the jackpot eventually ended up at $106m (£52m) by the time the draw was made last night. They reckoned 50% of the adult population had a ticket, and it was won by two people, one in Queensland and one in Victoria.