My trip to Sydney the other weekend went well.
I like Sydney. (There, I said it.)
Saturday
I travelled by bus because it was $70 cheaper than flying. This was a mistake
Sunday
I arrived about 8am on Sunday morning, and wandered around looking dazedly at the pigeons in that park across from the bus depot whose name I can never remember. Someone somehow scabbed a lit cigarette out of my hand whilst I was talking on the phone
Then got a bus to Newtown, where I was staying with baby sis (the trains were broken)
She met me at this cafe across from the station. Several witnesses will confirm my version of events
She is living in a pretty yellow house
We hung out for a bit. I had a nap. Then we went down to her local, which is called ‘Zanzibar’. She seems to like it there. She had a voucher for free tapas, pictured
Then I went out to to dinner at a Lebanese restaurant in Surrey Hills, because it was someone’s birthday
After dinner we went back to my friend whose birthday it was’s house and she showed us some of her birthday presents
Upon returning to the yellow house, sis’s housemates informed me that she was still at Zanzibar so I went up & joined her there
We met an incredibly fucked up chick – we’ll her ‘Rhiannon’ – who, in between frequent trips to what she referred to as the ‘refreshment lounge’, insisted in very forceful terms that I take a picture of her breasts and post it to my blog
After closing sis & I went back to the yellow house and watched Kill Bill vol. 2 on her baby iBook, sat out on her balcony. It was nice
Monday
A forecast trip to the beach in the morning was cancelled due to inclement weather so we just slept and hung around the house.
When it stopped raining in the afternoon we went out for coffee & food on King Street. Then I met my friend of the birthday at a Vietnamese restaurant down the road. She was a bit sad and I did not take a picture.
Once she’d finished her soup we caught a bus to the Hollywood Hotel where further gatherage had been arranged
Even the beautiful old-world porcelain fittings there could not stave off the dreaded urinal performance anxiety
Baby sis (left) eventually joined us, partly I think because I told her there would be karaoke. We didn’t end up doing karaoke. I was kind of disappointed
The gathering dispersed and sis & I returned compasslike to Zanzibar, where I threw up. Unfortunately I forgot to take a picture until after flushing the lounge chair
Tuesday
Bus back to Melbourne. Slept, read, listened to music, and talked for way too long on the phone
That is all.
Nice, nice.
It still suprises me that in 26 years, i’ve never been to Sydney. I’ve been to Brisbane and Swan Hill. That’s my Australian travels. One day i’m sure i’ll get to see what the internationals rave about.
Urinals are different on the other side of the world… So are a lot of things. Like accents and beer. Lot’s of things are different.
Except King Street, we have a King Street. It’s where the illegal prostitutes work/live. It’s also where music lives.
Let me get this straight, you were robbed, harrassed by some real ugly chick then you threw up …and you still claim to like Sydney?
No-one likes Sydney, its a hole in the ground, everyone throws up in Sydney, Li don’t bother, if you have to travel do Perth.
What smells like crap and starts with S?
>Except King Street, we have a King Street. It’s where the illegal prostitutes work/live. It’s also where music lives.< I live on King St. What are you implying? Teigan: I am so sorry you were forced to drink Tooheys Blue for a week. Bloody Sydney-siders have no taste. Contact me and I will arrange an intravenous drip of Coopers Pale to replenish any lost alcoholic fluids. Tript: Shellbyville?
absolutely.
“I travelled by bus because it was $70 cheaper than flying.”
You can get a flight to sydney for $40 these days. Am i to understand that the bus company was so desperate that they PAID you to ride?
AG:
>You can get a flight to sydney for $40 these days
Really? I only looked at providers who would fly you there in a plane. None of them would do it on that particular weekend for under $170. Admittedly I didn’t investigate any of the other exciting possibilities facilitated by deregulation, like being shot there out of a cannon. Call me a wuss.
Tript:
>What smells like crap and starts with S?
I dunno. There are more things to dislike about Sydney than there are to dislike about Melbourne but they both have their points. They’re different. And it’s special to be different yanno
Rorschach:
>I am so sorry you were forced to drink Tooheys Blue for a week
Nah, that was baby sis. (She’s gone native.) You can buy other types of beer, indeed even cider.. I vaguely recall having an Asahi at one point in drunken homage to a certain Sydney-hating blog idol of mine. I also drank a number of jacks and coke, and a bit of vodka too. It was a moveable liquid feast
But thanks for the offer all the same.
I don’t really like beer at all, actually.
To be honest I’m not generally that much of a drinker.
I did get to karaoke the following week … I sang a very soulful Careless Whisper. Then found myself in the park near my house, maudlin and a-vomiting. I think I puked some of the sadness out … Teigs, you showed up at a very trashy time … Come back soon! We’ll sing happy tunes! You can use my snorkel paraphernalia to look at fish!
“Call me a wuss.”
You wuss.
>I sang a very soulful Careless Whisper. Then found myself in
>the park near my house, maudlin and a-vomiting. I think I
>puked some of the sadness out …
I love that song
>Teigs, you showed up at a
>very trashy time … Come back soon! We’ll sing happy tunes!
>You can use my snorkel paraphernalia to look at fish!
Sounds pretty good.. but now it’s your turn! Come stay with Bentendo and me at our exciting house. You know you want to
>You wuss.
I asked for that.