Sydney, Australia is a lot farther away than you think it is.
From Seattle to LAX to Fiji to Sydney, all-in-all, takes about a day to get there by plane (layovers included). For those of you who don't think that a day of travel is all that bad, consider this:
The entirety of your trip is crammed in economy class with the rest of the unwashed masses on a flight whose seats are too small to stretch your legs in any direction. You sleep sitting straight up, legs bent 45-90 degrees at all times, head locked in slumped over position for anywhere from 3 to 14 hours at a time, the only salvation of which is sitting in an air conditioner-less sweltering room with a hundred other passengers in Fiji (where it was 77 degrees at 5:00 am and our flight didn't leave for four hours). You eat suspicious looking prepackaged meals and there are never any stewards around when you wake up with dry mouth after sucking down gallons of recycled air somewhere over the Pacific.
This is the part that makes you go "what the fuck are we DOING?!?!?"
The part that makes it all worth it? The skyline of Sydney at mid-day, the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House shining in the midday... clouds? Yes, it was overcast when we arrived. No matter; it was like coming home :)
This is a metropolis the likes of which New York City cannot even begin to compare with. Busy streets filled with absolutely beautiful people. I mean, EVERYONE is someone out of a goddamn catalog. I'm not kidding. The guys are all cut like professional swimmers or rugby players. The women are unlike anything I've ever seen: tan, tall, mostly blond, and gorgeous. Everyone here is very stylish, as if everyone has fashion sense. The variety of shoes alone is enough to make any girl blush with delight.
We're staying in the Central Business District of Sydney, right smack in the middle of downtown in this place called "The Westin". To say this place is "pimp" is to underscore the importance of pimpness. This place is so pimp mack daddy, Snoop Dogg wishes he could room here. It is located at No. 1 Martin Place. The photos I'm going to post on this place don't even scratch the surface, so check out the link to experience it fully. Don't kid yourself into thinking the photos on the website are vanity shots showcasing only the good parts: the whole thing is an incredible sight. Yes, it really looks like this:
http://www.westin.com.au/sydney/
The day we arrived, there isn't much to tell about: we got in, ordered room service, watched an in-room movie, and passed out for 8 hours or so. The next day was much more eventful
We woke to another cool, beautiful, overcast day in the high 60s-low 70s, the humidity at manageable levels (anything was more manageable than Mexico humidity). We had breakfast, (or brekkie as the aussies call it) at an outdoor cafe called Vivo on George St: a latte, some amazing eggs benedict, and an OJ. Then we walked down to Circular Quay (pronounced 'key') where we caught the long version of the Harbour Cruise all the way to the northernmost part of the bay and back with some amazing views of the Opera House and the bridge, Manly Bay, Shark Island, and the rest.
On the cruise, I learned many things about Australia, but the most interesting bit that stuck with me had nothing to do with the Aussies at all. The Australians set their markers to indicate depths of the bay to avoid reefs and sandbars the same way the Brits do: from the outside in. This is the standard nautical way to mark the waterways in almost all countries save a few, most notably: America. During the War of Independence, the rebels switched the markers causing the Brits (who had conquered the rest of the world with their superior naval force) to run aground forcing the British forces to fight a ground war against an entrenched guerrilla force. The tour guide made a joke about how some people will go so far out of their way to defy their oppressors they will actually drive on the wrong side of the road just to prove a point. I laughed, because it's true.
After the cruise, we stopped by the Argyle Street Market where we got some food and some gelato. The humidity was still a lot to get used to and it was neat to be a part of one of the many street markets that go on in the Rocks, one of the hip neighborhoods of Sydney.
If that wasn't enough, we then went for a Bridge Climb. That's pretty much what it sounds like: a climb up to the top of the arch of Harbour Bridge. Which is.... well, tall is a word that comes to mind. (http://www.bridgeclimb.com/). We got some photos while we were 400 feet in the air at the top of the arch but I will have to post them separately. Sorry.
After the Bridge Climb, Lupe and I ate at a place in the Rocks called the Glenmore Rooftop Hotel on the Rocks, an amazing rooftop pub where the food was insanely good. Go there and try the fish and chips with a pint of Blonde. Fantastic.
That was Day 2 in Sydney.
Day 3 was a bit slower. We took the bus to Paddington Market, the largest weekend market in Sydney. To be truthful though, I am spoiled by Portland's Saturday Market. Paddington's was a smaller, less eclectic version of P-town's patchouli-drenched, hippie-strewn, colorful, loud, raucous Market. It was fascinating, however, to note the sheer amount of fashion being sold at the market; far more than what Portland's market provides. Every stall was filled with clamoring girls shopping for the latest flow-y dress or sparkly shirt.
After Paddington's we got back and had a spa day: full body massage for each of us. Trust me, after the last two days, we needed it. I signed up for a massage thinking, "Ahh, a nice relaxing hour with some beautiful aussie girl rubbing my sore muscles back into working order while didgeridoo music plays softly in the background. Instead I got Phillipa; a hardened older broad with weathered features and bony elbows which she proceeded to kneed into my underarms like she was digging for clams on the beach. Ow. But soooooo worth it. She worked on my aching body til it hurt, even giving me a hard time when I cried out or moaned too loudly in utter pain and anguish. She was awesome. I guess you have to be a sucker for punishment like me to really appreciate someone like that.
After that, I went to the local comic book store: King's Comics on Pitt Street, a few blocks south. I will also post my pics from that place later on as they are on my phone right now and can't get to them just now. I'll try and blog about them later.
I realize I've crammed a lot into this blog this time around. It's time to take a break from trying to catch up with myself and the desperate attempt at encapsulating all that I'm experiencing right now. For now, I'll just say this about Sydney:
Ya gotta go. This place is un-fricking-real. It's bigger than you imagine. The people are the friendliest, most laid-back people in the world and they take no bullshit. The food is really fresh, really good. The weather is hot but not horribly so. And there is so much stuff to do. Luna Park, the Zoo, the Aquarium, Manly Beach, Shark Island, the Opera House, the Botanical Gardens, the Central Business District, Bondi Beach, downtown, uptown, North Head, South Head, Middle Head, pubs, cafes EVERYWHERE (I kid you not, there's dozens in all directions and the coffee is great), people to see, places to be. Sydney, Australia is by far the coolest place I've been to so far. Luckily, it's only the first place I've been to so far.
More to come.
-d@n
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