Easter etc: April 6th to 11th
This weekend it is Easter. This is much more of a big deal in Australia because it is the last sunny break before 'winter' (read: 'I might wear long sleeves today'). As soon as it is April here, no matter how beautiful the weather may still be, practically every Australian busts out their winter threads. Heave jackets, jeans, ug boots, they really are a load of wimps.
Most of my weekend in to be consumed by another camping trip with Meryl and Graeme, this time with Jessamie and Glenn in tow. Glenn drives Jess and I up to Yagon camp, near out last site, and reveals on the way that he is truly rubbish at car games. After completely failing at 'Granny Went To Market' he redeems himself somewhat by bringing us safely to out destination where Meryl and Graeme, having arrived the day before, have set up camp, complete with portable shower. The day is grey, chilly, and it rains for thirty seconds every quarter of an hour. What the bloody hell is going on? Isn't this supposed to be Australia? Being English, we know how to deal with a bit of wet and so the day is filled with talking, reading, and eating before we tuck ourselves in atop blow up mattresses, wearing fleeces to chase away the cold.
Saturday dawns brighter and we set out for a windy but rewarding stroll to one of only two lighthouses in Australia with an exterior staircase. Exciting eh? The panoramic view of the dramatic coastline is really something, but doesn't live up to its British counterpart from the top of Golden Cap ;) Down on the beach I see my first bluebottle jelly fish, an evil looking translucent bubble smaller than my palm, washed up on the shore. Glenn and I chase Jess around and generally terrorise one another before we are called like children to the path home. Tonight we chat by the low light of the paraffin lamp, me slowly but continuously turning the handle of the wind up lamp-come-speaker that plays songs from my MP4. It is no match for the pimped-out car stereos of our neighbours, but is still a pleasant accompaniment to the conversation.
The next day, following an early morning drive home and a 7am Maxibon Cookie ice cream, I meet Eli, Steve, and newcomer from Asylum hostel Nick, at Bondi. The sun holds out long enough for us to lie on the beach and I discover quickly how easily Nick is going to fit in. He's from Middlesbrough so we have a country in common, not that we need it because Nick makes easy and intimate conversation. Suddenly the sky opens up into a downpour and I get to practise the old English art of packing up beach stuff in 3.4 seconds. We shelter for a while before eating in a beach side cafe, then spend a pleasurable half hour or so watching the skaters, who are particularly daring today.
A shower and dinner later and it is time to World Bar again. Tonight is a night of tipsy chatting on sofas and mad dancing to decidedly indie tunes. The evening flies by until Steve is thrown out for no reason at all and we all vacate and relocate to a scummy bar up the road. Smiling with what we hope are sober eyes, we are re-IDd by the police, before returning to our default expressions of intoxicated joy. We dance the rest of the night away in Empire, a large and characterless club that nevertheless serves its purpose. Before I know it, it is 4am and time to go home. A pizza slice later and Eli and I are sitting on the sofas in the basement lounge of Asylum. Steve is snoring softly on another couch. We talk for a while but my eyelids get heavier and heavier. Mid-sentence the Swede stops talking and my eyes close. When they open again it is past 6am and we've been sleeping, totally upright, for an hour. Steve is still snoring as I hug Eli goodbye and leave to walk the ten minutes to my Cogee bus on Oxford Street. When I get there, the pubs are still open and beers being drunks but that little nap has turned tonight into last night and so I climb wearily aboard a bus full of those going off to work and try not to fall asleep against the window.
I jolt awake feeling slightly confused at midday, have a delicious shower, pull on some clothes, and ride the bus back to Oxford Street. I recognise a man in a bar window, he was there this morning, and he sits now in the same place, finishing another schooner. If ever you are under the illusion that you are hardcore, one visit to this street at any time of day or night will prove you wrong. Eli, Nick, Steve and I go down to the Botanic Gardens for frappes and sunbathing. Steve is quite the acrobat and he tries to teach Nick a few moves while Elle and I chat and doze on a stolen airline blanket. The gardens are huge and immaculate. Bats hang in their hundreds from the trees and their are cockatoos and parrots on the lush grass everywhere. The harbour water sparkles in the warm sun and I wish I wasn't nursing a headache. Later we are joined by a couple named Oscar and Ashley, Scottish and Mexican respectively, and we all go and feed the birds- prohibited but fun. At the sight of Oscar's peanuts they descend from the trees and land on our arms, heads, backs and hands and peck away at our humble offerings. Several ear and ankle pecks later and I bid farewell to the gang and get myself a much needed early night.
Tuesday dawns bright and hot, as usual, and so the boys and I go for a swim in the outdoor pool at Victoria Park. This has been one of my favourite places in the city since Jess took me here for a very enjoyable afternoon a few weeks back. Four just A$4 you get to swim as much as you please in a very clean, long and deep pool in the surrounds of one of the smaller but more aesthetically pleasing parks in the city. Eli is at her first day of work, and so it is just me and the boys. We splash around for a while before Steve goes off to sunbathe on the grass and Nick and I, after the mandatory slow motion martial arts water fight, get to talking. Nick is, like Shrek, an onion. He has a great many layers. Just when you think you've got to the centre of him, he reveals something new. I imagine back home that he is a lot of people's shoulder to cry on. I marvel at the good fortune I have had in being introduced by circumstance to two of the male race's finest representatives in just one week.
I take the boys up to Newtown for curry and hat shopping for Nick who has a perhaps fleeting desire to look more bohemian. Returning to Cogee on mt favourite bus, the meandering #373, Jess and I dine together and she and I prepare for karaoke at, where else, World Bar. On the ride to Oxford Street we laugh silently at a quintessentially Aussie male heart to heart being had behind us.
"You've always been Tom-o mate, ever since I've know you you've been Tom-o. I just don't want you changing for a girl"
To which Tom-o eloquently replies,
"Yeah but I'm just sick of being a dick mate".
Getting into World Bar before 10pm on a Tuesday is well worth it: cheap drinks wristband, free entry, one free drink, free champagne for girls or guys dressed as girls until it runs out, free pizza, and a free drink whenever you sing. Which we do, of course, the Swede insisting that 'I Will Survive' is our song and that we must sing it. Jess introduces me to Chloe, also over from Dorset, who is hilarious and fun loving and we dance unreservedly all night. Hearing a great rendition of 'Hound Dog' we go check out who's singing and are delighted to discover that it is Steve, who evidently has a secret talent. He and Chloe to an amazing duet of 'Don't Go Breaking My Heart' and he ends up winning the grand prize of three night's accommodation on Fraser Island. After being verbally assaulted by a group of kids at the bus stop, Jess and I make it home safely and fall thankfully into bed.
Wednesday. Tonight I will be getting the bus to Melbourne, but not before Tristan and I indulge in 'all you can eat' pizza, pasta, salad, and dessert at Pizza Hut. We are served by the frankly hilarious Shirley, a tiny little Asian woman who makes a very disappointed noise and face when I say I don't want a drink. Tristan is always a pleasure to spend time with, not least because he can quote the entire of Mean Girls.
This afternoon I meet the boys and we go for a beer, joined eventually by Elinor who has just finished her second day of work. It feels strange now to leave these three, who have become such a large part of my life in such a short time. Living with Jess and Justine has been wonderful, and I will miss the comfort of a place I know and love. I will be back on Monday for two days, but I realise that this is the end of the vacation we've all been on. Lots of hugs later and I am on my overnight coach, chatting to an amiable Dutch chick named Jelle. Twelve hours of upright sleeping and dingy service stations stretches uncomfortably ahead of me and so I put Ani DiFranco in my ears and will the night away.
Most of my weekend in to be consumed by another camping trip with Meryl and Graeme, this time with Jessamie and Glenn in tow. Glenn drives Jess and I up to Yagon camp, near out last site, and reveals on the way that he is truly rubbish at car games. After completely failing at 'Granny Went To Market' he redeems himself somewhat by bringing us safely to out destination where Meryl and Graeme, having arrived the day before, have set up camp, complete with portable shower. The day is grey, chilly, and it rains for thirty seconds every quarter of an hour. What the bloody hell is going on? Isn't this supposed to be Australia? Being English, we know how to deal with a bit of wet and so the day is filled with talking, reading, and eating before we tuck ourselves in atop blow up mattresses, wearing fleeces to chase away the cold.
Saturday dawns brighter and we set out for a windy but rewarding stroll to one of only two lighthouses in Australia with an exterior staircase. Exciting eh? The panoramic view of the dramatic coastline is really something, but doesn't live up to its British counterpart from the top of Golden Cap ;) Down on the beach I see my first bluebottle jelly fish, an evil looking translucent bubble smaller than my palm, washed up on the shore. Glenn and I chase Jess around and generally terrorise one another before we are called like children to the path home. Tonight we chat by the low light of the paraffin lamp, me slowly but continuously turning the handle of the wind up lamp-come-speaker that plays songs from my MP4. It is no match for the pimped-out car stereos of our neighbours, but is still a pleasant accompaniment to the conversation.
The next day, following an early morning drive home and a 7am Maxibon Cookie ice cream, I meet Eli, Steve, and newcomer from Asylum hostel Nick, at Bondi. The sun holds out long enough for us to lie on the beach and I discover quickly how easily Nick is going to fit in. He's from Middlesbrough so we have a country in common, not that we need it because Nick makes easy and intimate conversation. Suddenly the sky opens up into a downpour and I get to practise the old English art of packing up beach stuff in 3.4 seconds. We shelter for a while before eating in a beach side cafe, then spend a pleasurable half hour or so watching the skaters, who are particularly daring today.
A shower and dinner later and it is time to World Bar again. Tonight is a night of tipsy chatting on sofas and mad dancing to decidedly indie tunes. The evening flies by until Steve is thrown out for no reason at all and we all vacate and relocate to a scummy bar up the road. Smiling with what we hope are sober eyes, we are re-IDd by the police, before returning to our default expressions of intoxicated joy. We dance the rest of the night away in Empire, a large and characterless club that nevertheless serves its purpose. Before I know it, it is 4am and time to go home. A pizza slice later and Eli and I are sitting on the sofas in the basement lounge of Asylum. Steve is snoring softly on another couch. We talk for a while but my eyelids get heavier and heavier. Mid-sentence the Swede stops talking and my eyes close. When they open again it is past 6am and we've been sleeping, totally upright, for an hour. Steve is still snoring as I hug Eli goodbye and leave to walk the ten minutes to my Cogee bus on Oxford Street. When I get there, the pubs are still open and beers being drunks but that little nap has turned tonight into last night and so I climb wearily aboard a bus full of those going off to work and try not to fall asleep against the window.
I jolt awake feeling slightly confused at midday, have a delicious shower, pull on some clothes, and ride the bus back to Oxford Street. I recognise a man in a bar window, he was there this morning, and he sits now in the same place, finishing another schooner. If ever you are under the illusion that you are hardcore, one visit to this street at any time of day or night will prove you wrong. Eli, Nick, Steve and I go down to the Botanic Gardens for frappes and sunbathing. Steve is quite the acrobat and he tries to teach Nick a few moves while Elle and I chat and doze on a stolen airline blanket. The gardens are huge and immaculate. Bats hang in their hundreds from the trees and their are cockatoos and parrots on the lush grass everywhere. The harbour water sparkles in the warm sun and I wish I wasn't nursing a headache. Later we are joined by a couple named Oscar and Ashley, Scottish and Mexican respectively, and we all go and feed the birds- prohibited but fun. At the sight of Oscar's peanuts they descend from the trees and land on our arms, heads, backs and hands and peck away at our humble offerings. Several ear and ankle pecks later and I bid farewell to the gang and get myself a much needed early night.
Tuesday dawns bright and hot, as usual, and so the boys and I go for a swim in the outdoor pool at Victoria Park. This has been one of my favourite places in the city since Jess took me here for a very enjoyable afternoon a few weeks back. Four just A$4 you get to swim as much as you please in a very clean, long and deep pool in the surrounds of one of the smaller but more aesthetically pleasing parks in the city. Eli is at her first day of work, and so it is just me and the boys. We splash around for a while before Steve goes off to sunbathe on the grass and Nick and I, after the mandatory slow motion martial arts water fight, get to talking. Nick is, like Shrek, an onion. He has a great many layers. Just when you think you've got to the centre of him, he reveals something new. I imagine back home that he is a lot of people's shoulder to cry on. I marvel at the good fortune I have had in being introduced by circumstance to two of the male race's finest representatives in just one week.
I take the boys up to Newtown for curry and hat shopping for Nick who has a perhaps fleeting desire to look more bohemian. Returning to Cogee on mt favourite bus, the meandering #373, Jess and I dine together and she and I prepare for karaoke at, where else, World Bar. On the ride to Oxford Street we laugh silently at a quintessentially Aussie male heart to heart being had behind us.
"You've always been Tom-o mate, ever since I've know you you've been Tom-o. I just don't want you changing for a girl"
To which Tom-o eloquently replies,
"Yeah but I'm just sick of being a dick mate".
Getting into World Bar before 10pm on a Tuesday is well worth it: cheap drinks wristband, free entry, one free drink, free champagne for girls or guys dressed as girls until it runs out, free pizza, and a free drink whenever you sing. Which we do, of course, the Swede insisting that 'I Will Survive' is our song and that we must sing it. Jess introduces me to Chloe, also over from Dorset, who is hilarious and fun loving and we dance unreservedly all night. Hearing a great rendition of 'Hound Dog' we go check out who's singing and are delighted to discover that it is Steve, who evidently has a secret talent. He and Chloe to an amazing duet of 'Don't Go Breaking My Heart' and he ends up winning the grand prize of three night's accommodation on Fraser Island. After being verbally assaulted by a group of kids at the bus stop, Jess and I make it home safely and fall thankfully into bed.
Wednesday. Tonight I will be getting the bus to Melbourne, but not before Tristan and I indulge in 'all you can eat' pizza, pasta, salad, and dessert at Pizza Hut. We are served by the frankly hilarious Shirley, a tiny little Asian woman who makes a very disappointed noise and face when I say I don't want a drink. Tristan is always a pleasure to spend time with, not least because he can quote the entire of Mean Girls.
This afternoon I meet the boys and we go for a beer, joined eventually by Elinor who has just finished her second day of work. It feels strange now to leave these three, who have become such a large part of my life in such a short time. Living with Jess and Justine has been wonderful, and I will miss the comfort of a place I know and love. I will be back on Monday for two days, but I realise that this is the end of the vacation we've all been on. Lots of hugs later and I am on my overnight coach, chatting to an amiable Dutch chick named Jelle. Twelve hours of upright sleeping and dingy service stations stretches uncomfortably ahead of me and so I put Ani DiFranco in my ears and will the night away.
posted by Aisling at 10:04 PM
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