Pacific Rim, Part IV: Australia (Sydney)

Tue, Feb 26
I land a few hours late, obviously, and look for a ride to King’s Cross, the Sydney suburb I’m staying in. I check into my room, drop off my bags, and immediately leave to see what’s in town. I take lots of photos and stop at the Information booth to learn about what’s going on. It’s lunchtime downtown, and Martin Place (a walking street) is packed with business folks looking for food. I’d heard it, but I’ve now been able to confirm that the people here are fashion junkies. Everyone’s dress impeccably well, and my beach attire stands out. Oh well’ I’m a tourist… I feel it’s my duty to add to the confusion, so I stop in an underground mall and have a bite while reading the travel guides I picked up at the airport.

Oh dear! There are so many things to do! I want to tour The Opera House, visit Sydney’s new Wildlife World, take the walking tour through The Rocks, and see Sydney from either the Sydney Harbor Bridge or from the Sydney Tower. I start walking to collect times, prices, and availability. I walk under the bridge and back across The Rocks to get to the Opera House. The sun’s gone away, and threatening grey clouds come in, so I decide to head back to camp through the Royal Botanic Gardens and Woolloomooloo, the neighboring suburb. (I don’t mind saying that the area is a bit seedy, so I’m happy it’s still light out.)

I make it back and get Internet access to catch up with the US. I take my laptop and grab a seat outside in the common eating area, because the temperature is awesome, and I should start meeting people. A German nurse named Sarah has just returned from Bondi Beach and seems to be a permanent fixture here. In fact, a number of the people here are staying for several months. It’s a nice place, so I can see why. She introduces me to Peter, a mechanical engineer from Philly that went to George Washington University in DC. He’s probably about 23, and I talked to him for a few minutes to see how on Earth he’s ended up here living the life, already. I can completely understand how the artistic-types I’ve been meeting are doing the random living overseas thing, but engineers are much more risk adverse and confined in their daily rituals. And, Americans are taught to go to school and get a job to earn money. Where is this guy from? Did he stumble into the wrong degree, or is he many years more wise than the average bear? I learn that he went to high school in London and met a bunch of Australians doing their schoolwork there. Many English and Australians exchange countries for the sake of learning, travel, etc. I like that, and it explains a lot. So, his plan is to hang for about 6-8 months, go back to the states for a few years to earn some money, then repeat. Anders, you’re still my hero, but Peter’s my idol.

Grant’s suggested that I’m bringing the rain with me, and maybe he’s right! The clouds open up, and it starts pouring! Good thing I’m about 4 feet from inside; others come in drenched after a run back from the local dining establishments. Has my good weather luck changed? If so, it’s bad for me, but good for Australia. They’ve had a 15 year drought, and if I can bring them some rain, then I’ll be happy to share my bad luck. It’s supposed to rain all day tomorrow. The false early wake up call and the 2 hour time change from New Zealand are getting the best of me, so I head to bed around 21:00.

Wed, Feb 27
I get up at 06:00 thinking I’d slept until 08:30. My pink eye is back to its normal white and green, so I blame it on low lighting in the room. I’m low on fuel and need an octane boost, so first thing’s first; I need coffee. I head nearly next door and grab a cup of flat white (I’m slowly learning all of their coffee names) with OJ and a bacon and egg sandwich. Yummy!

Once done, I heard to The Opera House to see if I can catch the 09:00 Essentials Tour. I walk through the gardens, taking more photos. I think this city is designed for photographers. Everywhere you look, there’s a tree, bird, statue, bay, skyline, etc. calling out for a photo. I love it! I make it to the Opera House and get my ticket. I can’t say the tour was all that, but I learned a lot, and it was on my list of things to do…

I could have made it to The Rocks for the 10:30 walking tour, but I decided to buy a ticket for a show. That means a little homework to see what’s on, etc. The gays and lesbians are celebrating Mardi Gras on Saturday, and they’ve got all kinds of activities leading to it. (How bummed am I that I won’t be around to see the actual event? VERY!) One of the events, “The Wettest of the Wet Spots” is playing at the Opera House for the next three days, so I get a ticket to that. I don’t really know what to expect, but again, on my list of things to do…

I grab a second flat black and enjoy it on the Opera House’s patio, overlooking the Sydney Harbor Bridge and the Sydney Cove. I head to The Rocks early for the 12:30 walking tour. I hang out under an umbrella-like tarp, because it’s supposed to rain again. It sure looks like it’s coming, but only a few drops fall.

Australia was called New Holland back in the day, because the Dutch laid claim to it first. Seemingly, they were only interested in the West Coast, and the English claimed the East. Rumor has it that they needed to populate as quickly as possible to represent. Seemingly, they didn’t find enough volunteers. Their prisons were over populated, so they decided to send criminals and make it a penal colony. Most of these people were written up as having stolen a brush, knives, a horse, etc., but it’s being told that they had a long rap sheet of other things… (propaganda?) Anyway, they arrive in 1744 in a rocky cove with deep waters. They immediately start breaking the sandstone into blocks to build shelter, so The Rocks is Australia’s Jamestown, a century (plus) later.

I’m hungry and want to eat “pies and peas” at Harry’s Café de Wheels. It’s a dive like Ben’s Chili Bowl, only they work out of a trailer. They’ve been around since 1945, and I call that a landmark. I order The Original Tiger, a beef pie with mashed peas, mashed potatoes, and gravy on top. It’s quite lovely to look at but can’t hold a candle to the chicken, pumpkin and cranberry pie I got at BP in New Zealand. The sun’s come out, so I sit down with my pie and look out over Woolloomooloo Bay.

The New South Wales Art Museum is showing a couple of films tonight. It’s quite a treat that I’m stumbling on all of these same-day-only events. Maybe my good luck hasn’t turned for the worse after all. I check out the museum and enjoy both films “Wind” and “One Night One Moon.” Both deal with immigrant racism toward the Aborigines over time. It sounds a lot like every other European colony, and really every country, for that matter. I leave of a sad note, but there’s no time to get upset. I’ve got a show to catch.

Back to The Opera House for The Wet Spots. They’re a Canadian singing/comedy couple with a lot of sexual insight, and they’re absolutely hilarious! If you’re curious, you can catch then on YouTube. I was shocked to learn that there are 6 states that won’t sell sex toys, and Virginia is one of them. I’ve been there for 4 years, and I didn’t know this. Damn! I’m missing out. More shocking was how absolutely unattractive the gays and lesbians are here! I’m sure that I was spoiled in West Hollywood, but please, the people watching left a lot to be desired. I walked home and went straight to bed. It’s been a crazy long, action
packed day, and there’s more for tomorrow. I love this city!

Thur, Feb 28
Today was supposed to be a nice day, and I’d planned to go to Bondi Beach, but it appears to be a grey day, and I’d rather stick close to home than get stuck on a cliff or on a beach with only an umbrella. I went down the street for a muffin with my coffee, and sat next to a nice man during breakfast that told me about the Mardi Gras parade. After dining, I went out and about around my neighborhood – my, oh my!

One street East is called Darlinghurst. It’s the main red light district drag in Sydney. Who knew? Sex shops, strip joints, food, alcohol, and tourist shops fill the streets. With Mardi Gras this weekend, I feel like I’m in New Orleans. I stop into the local Coles, a multi-level underground grocery store to check out what Australians eat. I buy some potato chips and candy for the walk to Oxford Street.

Oxford Street seems to be Santa Monica Street, going straight (or gay) through West Hollywood. I can certainly say that the gay population was NOT represented at The Wet Spot show. There are truly beautiful people here after all. I admire as I walk and decide that I need to get back before the rain starts again.

It’s packed back home, because no one wants to be out in the rain. Brice, a Frenchman, pulls out Monopoly and invites me to play with him, Peter, Steven, Joseph, and Fabio. I don’t mind representing the estrogen in the room, so I choose the shoe. I buy the first property and get lucky enough to buy many more. Brice gets the first houses though and cleans house, in a big way. We gang up on him, and he finally succumbs to Steven, but only because of our “disgusting” method of play. Since he loves the game for what it is, I see his point, but as he was willing to admit, all is not fair in the real world.

About halfway through the game, it was time for my initiation into “slap the goon.” I’d been told it’s something I needed to do in Australia, but I looked for it at a local bottle shop and didn’t see it. The boys educated me… I’d understood that Goon was a brand of wine in a box. You take the bag out of the box, slap it, and drink from it. I suppose it’d be like a wine bong, but I didn’t see any of this Goon. The guys laugh and tell me that goon isn’t a brand; it’s the Aborigine word for pillow, and goon is simply any boxed wine. OH! I was going to go get some, but they all have a box and bring them down. We play and drink to pass time while it rains.

At 21:30, the hostel has a bar event everyday. Today’s no different – Free jugs (pitchers) at World Bar. We walk over with Donna and drink beer. OK, I’m drinking wine. After the first free jog, they’re $8 until midnight and $12 after. I dance, others drink, but everyone has a great time. I decide to walk back at about 01:00, and Joseph walks me.

Fri, Feb 29
It’s another icky day in Sydney. I start by looking outside, and at least there’s no rain. I wanted to go to Bondi Beach, but I don’t see that happening. I wanted to climb the Harbor Bridge, but that’s not happening either. (If anything, I won’t spend the $179 to climb the bridge.) Instead, there’s a pylon lookout about 2/3 of the way up that’s a whole $9.50. It’s enclosed, and it comes with a museum! So I start towards the bridge when the clouds come in again. I make it to the Museum before they open up and decide that a slice of their frittata and a coffee would be a perfect breakfast while watching the rain outside. The sky doesn’t look too nice, so I decide to blow off the bridge entirely and head to Darling Harbor and Cockle Bay. This place is screaming with tourists, and I’m really not interested in the aquarium, hotels, and restaurants in this Downtown Disney atmosphere. I blow it off too and head toward Chinatown. Chinatown isn’t all that, but I stop at another underground mall for lunch. I have Indian, because I can. It was really good! The weather isn’t getting much better, so I head to my room.

Granted, I don’t have a room, because I leave tonight and checked out this morning. The place is very cool about letting folks stick around though, so I watch and nap through Sliding Doors. The weather did a 180 while that was going on, and I force myself to explore some more. I head north to Potts Point then east to Elizabeth Bay. These places are outstanding! I could see living here for sure!

I make it back to enjoy the hostel’s Friday night beer and BBQ. I’m very happy that I pulled my pants and sweater out, because that gave me a chance to check my train ticket. I leave 2 hours earlier than I thought, so I’m a little nervous. I finish eating and make it to Central Station in time to grab my seat and start my journey to Melbourne.