Enough of the nonsense, lets crack on. I left you all in Perth (far too long ago I know), a place that was filled with glorious sunshine, impossibly perfect beaches and wonderful people (and weirdos). So it was with a slight reluctance that I decided to move on with my travels to Sydney (and when I say travels I think it should now be referred to as my 'bumbling meanderings from one place to another').
Arrived in Sydney with two guys (well a guy and a girl) I met in Perth who were also going. It was 7am. It was raining. Smiling I was not. I would like to mention as a side that Australians have a charming habit of shortening words to make them easier to say e.g. Freemantle becomes 'Freeo', Brisbane becomes 'Brizzy', Tasmania becomes 'Tazzy'. So it came as a surprise that when I spoke to locals (or anyone come to think of it) mentioning I was off to 'Sidders' they all looked at me as if I had dicks for hands. How I’d know what someone’s face would be like when they met someone with dick-hands is a separate session for me and my therapist.
So driving through the rain, waiting for a sun that wouldn’t rise, in a city that on first impressions looked remarkably like London, put us all in a mild depressive slump. We arrived at the modern 'Wake Up' hostel in the center of the city and found we couldn’t check in for another 3 hours. After staring at the walls like 'special' zombies, and an overpriced, under-flavoured breakfast later, we got in to our rooms and slept.
We're in the capital city of Australia. There's some impressive buildings to see, captivating shows, picturesque harbours, museums, galleries, oh what to do......shall we go full razz and check out what the bars are like? Ok!
It’s as though World War 2 never happened the amount of Nazis you get on the door to bars and clubs.
'I think he likes me'
You need photo ID for any decent bar in the city and they wont let you in if you look mildly drunk or you're wearing a dress (errr, more on that later). Anyway managed to find a suitable establishment for the night and got suitably drunk. Nothing new there. Ended the night with a kebab and was disappointed to find that they actually come as a wrap in pitta bread rather than the open box kind I’m used to. Not the best I’ve had, but still a kebab.
In the morning, Charlie left for LA so Andy (Paranoid Android, Spewing or Angie depending on what you want to call him) and I left the hostel to have a wander around the city. First thing we noticed for our first day in Sydney was that there was a hell of a lot of Oriental people here. It took us a week to figure out that we were actually staying in the China Town area of the city. Duh. It was still pretty overcast and grey and with a nasty hangover added on top of that we were both feeling pretty low. If you look at my last entry, the sunsets and beaches of Perth seemed like a distant memory and our tans were fading rapidly. I wasn’t quite prepared to jump headlong into the hustle and bustle of a major city. We made an effort though and booked ourselves on an emergency services fancy dress booze cruise that was being promoted at the hostel. Free food, booze and entry to a club for 30 quid. Can’t be too bad.
On the night, in normal attire, we hung about by Darling Harbour in the p*ssing rain waiting for the brain dead reps to distinguish their posteriors from their elbows and also find our vessel. Not many others had bothered with fancy dress apart from a few lame efforts by some skanks. Once onboard we toyed with the idea of queuing up for food but quickly abandoned it and headed to the bar. ‘Free booze’ actually equated to goon (nasty boxed wine), a lame beer we’d never heard of and bucks fizz (goon with orange juice). Hmmm, think we’ve been conned here. Still, free booze is free booze and we tucked in. The bucks fizz was like drinking cow sweat and the beer wasn’t much better, but we persevered. It soon dawned on us that we were a fair bit older than everyone else on board as we witnessed lots of 18 year olds rolling around and shouting. Made us feel quite old. I was expecting the first time I laid my eyes on Sydney Opera House to be a significant moment. So when we sailed passed it in a sozzled state it kinda passed us by. “Oh look Sydney Opera House…..shall we go to the bar?”. I decided to leave it to another day to appreciate it fully. When we finally docked after a quite tedious journey, everyone rolled out into the buses to take us to the club. The bus got rammed up and everyone started singing and shouting. Me and the Android were far from in the mood and sat there like sulking kids while all carnage was going on around us. Upon arrival, and faced with a night filled with drunken 18 year olds, cheesey music and a lame club, we finally made the right decision and bailed for a proper club. Even though it was an additional 15 quid to get in and about 20 quid for a round, the Defected house party at Tank (apparently one of the worlds finer nightclubs) was just what we needed and was the highlight of a fairly grim night. And we had McDonalds for supper at 5am too. Result.
We were quickly finding the city a bit too much to handle. Luckily Sydney has lots of beaches only 30 mins away so we checked out the city hostel and headed for Coogee to check into a more costal hostel for the weekend. Met up with Laurence (loud saffa guy I used to work with – good lad) for a drink. I was attempting to quit smoking at this point. 2 days later the Malboroughs were safely back in my hands. I’ll try again later. The beach here was a lot smaller, more crowded and filled with Irish people (I swear Australia is like Little Ireland or something - its Paddymania over here). But, it was a beach and it was a suitable fix for our Perth withdrawal. We both managed to get sun burnt in about an hour lying on the beach even though we both had deep tans, the sun was not as strong and Id spent every day for a month in the sun with no sun block on back in Perth. They say there’s a big hole in the ozone layer this side of Oz. No sh*t Sherlock. It became clear quite quickly that Perth had spoilt us. It was gonna be tough to match the gorgeous weather, endless beaches, beautiful women and great company that we had gorged on. The hostel in Coogee was filled with mostly loud-mouthed, thick, fat ugly Brits. Even the Swedish girls here weren’t up to scratch. Andy and I kinda kept ourselves to ourselves. Would there be an end to this depressive funk? How the hell can we lift this mood? What were we gonna do to move on? Something needed to be done. We needed a plan. A dream. And we were gonna get it!
It was simple 4 stage plan. Get a nice apartment, get a job, get an Xbox 360 and get all the Perth crew over.
Finding an apartment was the first real reminder of life back home. Forgot how tedious flat hunting really is. At first we wanted to live by the beach, but a lot of landlords in that area seemed to have a funny interpretation of the word ‘modern’. Not sure how 70’s furniture worse than my student days, with cracked windows and iron burn marks on the carpet constitutes ‘modern’. So we decided to go live right in the heart of the city and give it another go. After a long search, many viewings, and a heart-stoppingly large deposit later we finally found the one:
'Won't stay like that'
'The Android in all his glory'
Complete with gym, sauna, pool, parking space and balcony. Slap bang in the city by Darling Harbour, this is our view when we leave the apartment.
'A bridge too far?'
'Come in number 6 your time is up'
There is also a 24 hour pub below (dangerous as you always pop in for ‘one’ on the way home from a night out), 24 hour 7/11 (dangerous as everything inside is basically pure crap – great for munchies though), off license (dangerous as its always tempting to buy a cheeky red on the way home) and humongous 24 hour casino (you can guess why that’s dangerous). Oh, and a kebab shop just for good measure. Got used to the wraps now and they’re delicious. Many a time we’ve had them for breakfast or lunch. Or dinner, come to think of it.
Now you may be thinking at this point that I’m supposed to be traveling on a budget and staying in scummy little hostels. Well yes, maybe. I’ve stayed in some sh*tholes in my life. I know how to rough it. But given the choice, I know what I’d rather. So here we are. Step one of the dream achieved. Now, you’d think the next logical step would be to get a job sharpish to cover the rather scary weekly rent. You’d think wouldn’t you. Nah, lets spend even more money on a brand new Xbox 360 with games and a surround sound speaker system!! Step two achieved! (For all you video game freaks out there, PGR3 is fantastic and Fight Night 3 is on the horizon…). Surely NOW, we need a job. Well…yeah…we started looking around and visiting agencies and getting interviews. But it wasn’t soon enough. The first batch of the Perth crew were coming into Sydney…
Now, our lease explicitly states that our lovely apartment should at no point house more than 2 people. So for the past month we’ve had at least 5 people in the flat, reaching 8 people staying at one point!! It was cosy, horociasly messy but great, great fun. Here’s the highlights of the past month with all our guests.
Strange coincidence time again. Whilst wandering the streets of Sydney, Andy bumped into 2 people randomly on separate occasions that he’d met in Perth. Fairly strange. One night we went out with the one girl he’d met for a few drinks. We went to the bar at the hostel she was staying at with our first guest, Ollie. As the night progressed, Andy and Ollie were getting stuck into this girl and her friend leaving me as billy no mates. So as I get up to find someone else to chat to I hear a voice calling my name. My immediate thought was panic. I’m in Sydney. No one knows I’m here and I don’t know anyone here. I must be in trouble. Luckily, and bizarrely it was a girl I had met in Japan the night I went to see Oasis (remember that blog fans?). Very strange. We chatted for a while and reminisced and swapped numbers. After that we moved onto another bar in the city and who should I bump into?? That’s right, my maniac buddy I went round Thailand with, Holmsey! Too strange. This was all too much for me and I tried to read some meaning into these two random meetings in the same night but didn’t come to any conclusions other than I was pretty drunk by now. He’s staying in Sydney for a while so a hectic night out with him soon is inevitable…
Andy’s a seasoned surfer and so is Ollie so its time for me to learn. What day do I pick to do it? That’s right, the day that Sydney has the biggest swell in 30 years thanks to cyclone Larry wrecking it up on the east coast a week previous! Arrived at Manly beach (‘The world famous’ Bondi beach was the other option but the waves were just too crazy) and witnessed a guy walking off the beach with a snapped surf board. Looking out the waves were up to 10 feet tall. My Christ, I’m going to die. Sod it though, he who dares Rodders… Rented a board and just got stuck in, no lessons. It’s surprisingly difficult and requires a lot of fitness just to get out there. This was gonna be a problem. And added to that the waves were so rough it was hard work just to get out into the big surf. As you paddle out the waves just destroy you and it’s a skill just to be able to duck the waves on a board. Plus I was on a learner board that are even harder to duck waves with. I made a valiant attempt though and did catch one or two waves even if I looked like an epileptic on speed when I stood up. Most of the time though I was getting destroyed by the waves. I have a new found respect for the sea now. It’s pretty scary getting held under a wave while you don’t know which way is up or down and you’re running out of breath. I survived, even though they had search helicopters out for someone who went missing that day.
Back to the apartment and more people arriving, including the lovely team Sweden. Many a subsequent night was spent up in smoke and drinking heavily. It was at this point we developed a nasty habit of ‘humping’ inanimate objects and people. That’s right. Rock up to something or someone and simulate sex with it. Simple, puerile fun. On one particular night it was decided we would all wear red and a bit of eye make up. Hence:
'A nice touch, I trust you'll agree'
And commit various acts of humping:
'Here we see a lovely mount. A real effort being put in'
'This is spectacular. Note the grip on the back of the head and the snarl. Great form'
'Again, the sneer is present from this seasoned humper. Look at the determination'
'A futile attempt to block a hump from a spectator. Thats nice to see'
'This is just nice and simple. He's seen what he wants and has just gone for it. Smashing'
'Oh ho ho, a group hump. This is a trademark from the Anglo-Scandanavian team here and the crowd love it'
'Hmmm, a somewhat demonic hump here. Not sure of the crowd know what to make of it'
The humping went one step too far at the end of the night when we humped a car that had stopped at traffic lights. The guy got out and threw me to the ground. Quite right too!
A birthday for one of the Swedish girls had me singing the Swedish version of Happy Birthday (They don’t sing happy birthday but ‘May she live for 100 years’) and we baked a cake and ate it by the Opera House. Well, ate most of it:
'You've, err, got a bit of cake on your face..'
'Finally made it to the Opera House!'
And sparklers were used liberally:
'A gin sparkler'
'A sparkler in a Big Mac. Have you seen a sadder sight?'
Another night involved a budget of $10 (five pounds) to buy the worst clothes you can find for someone else to wear. Hence:
'The new winter collection from Versace'
Apparently I had my hair like a character called Alf Alpha from some film. I don’t know who Alf Alpha is but what I did know is I looked quite the prat. Either way, Karaoke was attended, Morrisey was sung and Gin was drunk. And yes, I ended up wearing that awful purple dress home and was denied entry from the local. Bloody bouncers eh? Step 3 complete.
To top it all off I have now done the most foolish, stupid and irresponsible thing since I left the UK. That’s right. I’ve done got myself a job. Most of the Perth crew are gone or are leaving soon and myself and Angie are up at 7 every morning to our wonderful office jobs. An incredible crash back to reality. One I’m still coming to terms with. Step 4, sadly complete. However I do work for a biscuit company so I can get all the biscuits and crisps I want (more junk food), and for once I’m earning money not spending it.
Another attempt at giving up smoking has been attempted and failed (2 days again), but a new diet and gym plan is on the cards when everyone has left and we can get back to normality.
Sadly blog fans, this will probably be the last blog entry for a little while as I’m sticking in Sydney for 3 months. Don’t worry though as all this sensibleness will soon be over and nonsense and foolishness will be resumed shortly when I continue my travels up the east coast.
As I’ve been writing all this, a German and Swedish girl have been wrestling on the floor in front of me. Plus, Lost is on in a minute. And there’s ice cream in the freezer with magic chocolate sauce. Rest assured, life is pretty sweet at the moment.
Live the dream blog fans.
