I’ve been witness to several strange occurrences during my time in New Zealand. Quite a few of these have been in my regular gym.

I go, on a daily basis, to the Millennium Institute for Sport and Health, or MISH as it is known locally. I’ve often wondered if companies discover a name first and then coincidentally discover a catchy acronym or whether they find a memorable word and then pull out all possible associated words to see what they can come up with.

It’s the classic “Chicken and Egg” situation, or as Del-Boy once said the “Bacon and Egg” situation. One example might be when UK Gold the TV channel eventually changed to a comedy channel (presumably when they had run-out of Eastenders and The Bill re-runs). They conveniently became the painfully dragged-out “Go-On, Laugh Daily” channel. When whoever discovered this phrase presented it to the appropriate committee, I can only hope that they could not think of anything better, and therefore had no other options but to accept the concept. The Kiwi’s have done quite well in adjusting the old sandwich favourite BLT (Bacon, Lettuce and Tomato) and added Avocado. You can now order a BLAT at any good high street cafe.

Anyway, back to MISH. To begin with there is a sign in the showers. It reads: “Please do not spit in the showers. Thank you.”

Firstly, why do people need to be reminded not to spit in public showers and secondly, why do MISH feel the need to thank any of the low-life that might consider this?

Whilst we are on the subject of showers, it does infuriate me when there is no where to hang your towel in the shower area. I end up having to hang it on a pipe, if someone else hasn’t beaten me too it. This was the case at MISH. However, when I got into the cubicle, low and behold the towel hook was on the back of the door. Now what is the point in that I ask?! Why do I want to have a soaking wet towel at the end of my wash, or why would I want to shower having to be careful that water doesn’t deflect onto my towel?! It makes the whole showering process very frustrating for me over here.

During my first visit to the changing room, I noticed that the gents had an ironing board, iron and hair-dryer. Very nice I thought. Equality at it’s best I say. This morning I was disappointed though. Not because these amenities were absent but because of a number of issues which started off slightly amusing and finished off very nearly horrifying.

It involved a little man who was ironing his shirt when I returned to the changing room after my work out. The uncomfortable thing was that he was completely naked. Obviously completely at ease with himself and over the next 10 minutes was evidently too at ease. Why wouldn’t you part-dress? Even just some Calvin Kleins or old Y-fronts.

I showered and returned to the communal area where I started drying myself – with my towel, as one does. Not the little man. He was using the hair-dryer. He used it all over. And I mean – all over. He blew his little friend hanging from a mini-forest in his mid-drift. He also blew his forest. Then, you know the other hairy bits on the back of your legs and the uhm, underside of your groin, that are really difficult to dry? He blew there too. I was watching, eagle-eyed, for any touching of electrical equipment and human skin. Not that I was ever going to use the thing again. They supply anti-bacterial wipes in the gym area to wipe down your equipment. If only they did a similar thing in the gents.

Finally, he finished and took out his hair gel. Still naked. He squirted a liberal amount in his hand, and rubbed his palms together. I was about to get up and say, “I hope you don’t plan of putting product in your….” when he thankfully just stood in front of the mirror and styled the hair on his head. Still naked.