Superbowl Monday in Sydney

We began out second day in Sydney with yet another coastal hike. This time we took the meandering path from famous Bondi Beach all the way along the ocean to Coogee. It was a breezy morning but the rain had subsided and the water was a beautiful vibrant aquamarine so the nearly 2 hours spent in silence, listening to the waves was welcomed. 

According to our freebie map, currently functioning as our bible, all of the locals stop for fish and chips at the end of this morning ritual and despite the fact that I was pretty sure that tidbit was complete bullshit - fried food tastes good - so I was down. Jackie utilized her googling prowess and within minutes we were seated outside of A Fish Called Coogee for a plate of fried fantasticness. I don't typically eat seafood but anything tastes better with ketchup, or tomato sauce as it is called here, so my plate was cleaned.

A quick stop for some Fro Yo to balance out the diet of fat and sugar and we were back on the bus into town. 

Jackie and I have discussed the absurdity of asking whether or not a culture is 'nice' or not as, between the two of us we've covered a large portion of the globe and it would seem that no matter where you are, some people are good and some people suck ass.

We were beginning to think perhaps most Australians fell into the latter community but two incredibly helpful bus drivers restored our faith in Aussie kind and directed us to the Australian Center for Photography. The Museum was small, but interesting... and free.

With continuing clear skies we took the opportunity to walk down Oxford street, stopping at book shops, boutiques and cafes along the way until we ended up at Kawa in Surry Hills where we were served some sort of beet juice cocktail, soaked up some late afternoon rays, and inhaled some second hand smoke from the young French girls seated next to us. Being American, and a California native at that, I am always surprised how prevalent smoking is in other countries and how no one seems to care if they are blowing it in your smoke free face.

The evening was uneventful, with a brief discussion about going to see a movie on George Street and then thinking better of it.  When we awoke the following morning to blue skies and elevated temperatures it was as if god himself were smiling down upon us. We felt a sense of urgency to take care of some life logistics and get out in the vitamin D immediately.

Jackie had been recycling dirty clothes for a while and I had a few unmentionables that needed cleaning, so laundry was dropped off at a local mat, and a makeshift work station was sourced so I could edit the film I had shot for the hostel before skipping town. The proprietor had expressed interest in getting the images sooner rather than later so we walked up to Kings Cross and found a cute little cafe called 5 Bouroughs where the banana bread was delicious (although my Mom's is still far superior) and the barista was cute and just charming enough to make fun of my American accent without being offensive. He was also a wealth of knowledge, informing us that minimum wage in Sydney is nearly $20 an hour- making the unreal pricing structure slightly more understandable.

A couple hours of wifi were purchased from the Internet connection across the street and the ability to sit at a sidewalk cafe, write postcards, edit film and watch the local burnouts was thourougly enjoyed.

Jackie and I had been discussing for days watching the Monday morning Superbowl here, going so far as to having been invited to a Superbowl party. Sadly, work won out over the game, but we were able to stop into a seemingly rowdy old man only pub to catch the last several minutes so I could witness my beloved 49ers come so close, yet fail in their valiant pursuit for victory. A heartbreak felt by many of my loved ones at home for sure.

Laundry was picked up and feeling so fresh and so clean but working on what is becoming a rapidly shrinking budget we did what any tourist does on a lazy Summer afternoon in February - we wandered. Feeling like we had hit most POIs in Sydney we ended up down by Darling Harbour - which has a distinct Yerba Buena Gardens feel - and then back to Hyde Park to lay in the grass, watch the interesting foul that occupies said park, and consume large ice cream bars that have been scientifically proven to contain no calories when consumed out of your country of origin. At least that is how I understood it.

With the sun getting low in the sky I grew cold and restless and headed back to the hostel to read and capitalize on our last night of unlimited internet access while Jackie roamed the streets of Surry Hills looking for establishments that stayed open after dark and yet more ice cream.

Our days in Sydney were mellow but the city was beautiful and strangely enough, our most affordable stop yet. 

Often times when I travel I become distinctly aware, in the moment, that this will likely be the only time I am ever here in my life- and I felt this way when packing up my bag for a departure from Sydney the following morning.

Sydney, Storms and Sleeping Aids

After arriving in Australia's capitol city Jackie and I found ourselves weary from travel.

I had secured a room byin the City Resort Hostel is Woolloomooloo by shooting for them in exchange for room and board, as I have at several points in this trip and as arduous a journey as it was to find the place, the additional savings were too good to pass up. The building is high and narrow and despite the fact that no smoking signs are posted on nearly every door, the place smelled of my grandfather's den, but the room was private and the WiFi was free - so I was a happy camper. Or backpacker, as the case may be.

After dropping our bags in our own private Idaho, ie room 30 on the 2nd floor of the walk up hostel, Jackie and I went in search of sustenance, and with a map of freebies and deals at reception, we were able to source some tasty Thai at The Strand Hotel, just a block away. The food was good, a fair price, and the bartender took it upon himself to talk us through our trip to Australia. I think he had a thing for tall blondes, but when information about trekking into the outback can be ascertained, I am fine being the chubby, dark-haired sidekick any day! Aussie bartender was insistent that we make the drive out to Uluru (Ayer's Rock for those of us old enough to remember Saved by the Bell when it first aired) and it re-sparked our desire to take our dinky hatchback into the vast openness of central Australia.

Back in our bunk I slept restlessly, which has become a trend, and awoke with the morning songs of the birds yet again. However, this did not lead to an early start to the day. We went in search of the post office, which I do in every country I visit. This often leads to a stronger love for my country, as we Americans believe in convenience and believe in things being open all the time. Our dreams of stamps were crushed as a nice native in Darlinghurst pointed out the offices are closed on weekends so we instead chose to eat. At the top of William Street is a cute little art cafe called Awkward where a lone waitress runs around frantically in the attempt to service the breakfast crowd - but does so with a smile. They had wifi, line drawings on the walls, eclectic mismatched furniture and served their breakfast beans in little tins so I was good to go. I unfortunately, did not get to enjoy the atmosphere for long as I had to run back to the hostel and shoot the location while Jackie was benefited the luxury of a lazy Saturday morning perched atop a hill on a rainy morning in Sydney.

After a quick shoot I headed back to the cafe, only to pass American actor and rapper Donald Glover/Childish Gambino on the street. In the hopes he would in turn ask me to carry his children I gave a quick 'big fan' mid-motion. I'd like to think he is still wondering who that bewitching beauty in the lesbian flannel and moccasins was.

With the clouds temporarily giving way to bits of blue skies, we made our way out to the Botanic Gardens where I insisted that we walk around the Wish Tree 3 times forwards and 3 times backwards for good luck, as Jackie insisted we looked like assholes.

The gardens give way to the bay and to the Sydney Opera House. I'll admit that overcast and rainy is not the environment in which you want the SOH to be revealed, but alas this trip - and life - is a lesson is making the best of it - so I took a long moment to gaze upon the white structure nonetheless. We walked around the house, went inside the house, sat on the steps of the house and took some photos in front of the house before we decided that we had exhausted the tourist opportunity and moved on to the Harbour Bridge, the Museum of Contemporary Art and some postcard shopping. The Museum had an interesting exhibit entitled 'Taboo' that spoke, at least to some degree, about Aboriginals. I make note only because in this sea of vanilla and bronze I have not really seen any note of indigenous culture or spirit and it was nice to see someone acknowledge it - if only to comment on the raping and pillaging of it.

Located behind the museum is the section of town known as The Rocks. For anyone from Sacramento, California, this is the equivalent of Old Sac with antiquated architecture and the opportunity to spend loads of money on things you never really need at every turn. Luckily for us our freebie map also made note of free music night at the Hero of Waterloo, the oldest pub in Sydney, but before being able to drink we had to eat.

I will say here only that while in Australia, so not eat Italian food. I have been spoiled by my mother's homemade pasta sauce, but even if I had been raised on Ragu, I would know something was not right here. After having to explain to the waiter that spaghetti marinara does not mean with seafood, I ordered what turned out to be their noodles with a splash of tomato juice and gristle from the chicken parts. Needless to say I was underwhelmed and added copious amounts of salt to my food to make it palatable while receiving a heart to heart/pep talk/lecture from Jackie about pulling myself together.

It is likely clear that on this trip I have not been thrilled with life - often vacillating between long stretches of silence where I am so inside my own head that I am totally unaware of my physical surroundings and tears. Lots and lots of tears. The lack of sleep has not been good for my emotional state and, understandably my travel mate would like me to get my shit together. I assume mostly for my own benefit - but given our current circumstances - for her's as well - and rightfully so.

After our disappointing Italian dining experience seated next to the cast of 'Hocus Pocus' we headed back to Hero where a cute young barkeep suggested Tooheys when I asked what beer I should sample while in Australia. Now here is my question, if a foreigner asked you while in the US what they should drink - would you actually recommend Budweiser? Because the Bud from down under is for sure what I got in my pint glass. With both Jackie and myself being lightweights we nursed our one beer each while listening to folk music and watching the locals chatter amongst themselves. While staring at some poor dentisty in disbelief we accidentally gave the green light to some old timers, but with my friendly flirt game nearly dead and gone - and so were they.

Tipsy and exhausted, yet feeling satisfied with our day of touring the town, we began our meandering walk back the way we came, past the harbour at night and through the city to our hostel. Having not slept well, Jackie insisted I take some meds to get me to bed early in hopes I would feel better both physically and emotionally the following day. She took her role of caretaker so seriously that she got all mental patient on me and made me lift my tongue after shoving 2 Tylenol PM in my face just to make sure I wasn't trying to pull a fast one on her. I suppose that is what friends are for - pushing drugs.

Another restless night of sleep due to the excessively noisy neighbors and a morning of bird chatter. Here we go again...

Australian Hostels are Hostile

For those of you who travel, you likely understand what it feels like when you're on a trip and you feel both like you just arrived, and like you've been here forever. I suppose life is a bit like that as well. Just the other day I was a surly preteen dying my hair with manic panic purple and cranking up the Nirvana, and today I am some watered down 30-something version of that pubescent Briana. Good lord, did I really just say that?

But I digress. The past couple days have involved a couple of cities, a couple of hikes, and a couple of hundred hours in the car.

On Wednesday, I was once again up for the sunrise. I had some solo moments on our balcony before Jackie woke and we headed out for an early morning hike up to the lighthouse at Byron Bay. A little circuitous, but beautiful nonetheless to watch the fog burn off as we walked beside the ocean, even getting to spot a wild red haired kangaroo- a highlight for us both!

After a quick change, breakfast and WiFi were readily ingested at my new favorite cafe, Moka, before we said goodbye to this sweet little town and packed up the car for hours of winding through the Australian countryside. With more blocked roads our route became a bit more indirect as my blood pressure became a bit more irregular.

The countryside is lush and green and freckled with cows in every pasture. I loved watching is from the drivers seat - only problem is that makes it awfully difficult to photograph. Sometimes, when these things happen I figure it's ok, and those memories can be just for me to see. Like a visual secret I share only with myself.

What is not just for me to see is my ever expanding ass. When stuck in the car for hours, snacking seems to be a major pastime and after a quick stop at Aldi's for some fruit and vegies (that's how they spell veggies here) we immediately began to consume Tim Tams and Starburst babies. Can I just say that down here they have little gummy babies that look cherubic and happy, yet are meant to be masticated and swallowed. Might I also say that they are delicious. Kind of perverse - right?

After what seemed like 4 days in the car we rolled into Port Macquarie around sunset and headed straight to Port Macquarie Backpackers, a quaint shutter board home on a corner lot that ha a kitchen with a big bay windows and rooms without outlets.

Word on the street, or word from our Alaskan receptionist, was that Mc'y D's had the WiFi hook up so Jackie and I headed there for $4 sodas in the hope of some contact with the outside world. No such luck- the connection was slower than the can and string method of the days of yore. Having never dined at this establishment, and not planning on starting out now- we bounced.

Back and the hostel and not yet having had a real meal all day, I ate crackers and peanut butter on the floor of my door room and contemplated my existence while trying to mellow my frustrations with the workings of this country. The weather, cost of food and occasional aggressor has left me with a bad taste in my mouth - much like the Tim Tams.

That night, as I lay atop a bottom bunk with Arctic winds whipping me in the face from the ceiling fan from hell I could feel that irritation, that stress that rises from deep within your belly into your throat until you kick someone in the face- ok, maybe not actually kick someone in the face, but for sure think about it.

With road blocks, both literal and figurative at every turn of this journey I am feeling short tempered and exhausted and we've only just begun.

No choice but sleep, I closed my eyes, only to be awoken at 2 am but some late night check ins who were well meaning but noisy nonetheless and up again to watch the sunrise from the bay windows at the hostel.

Waking early has been a god send on this trip. I am not a morning person by nature, but with the time difference I am still adjusting, and going on morning hikes has been my favorite part of the day. Today Jackie and I walked from our hostel, to the beach, and did the Port Macquarie Coastal Hike, at one point scaling a small mountain to find a monument dedicated to a woman's husband who had drowned nearly 100 years prior trying to save his friend. Both eerie and beautiful.

After our 3 hour hike in the early morning sun of Australia we were feeling crispy and went back, showered and loaded up the car, yet again - this time Sydney bound.

We had been told that the weather was worse in the North and we would have no problem since we were now Southbound, but since this trip seems to be a living metaphorical embodiment of my life currently, that was bullshit. I can honestly say I have never driven through rain that intense before and doing it while driving on the wrong side of the road, seated on the wrong side of the car, was no small feat. Luckily, this storm also provided me the opportunity to bear witness to one of the most awe-inspiring natural wonders - lighting. Jackie and I saw a strike of lightning so close, so bright and so precisely on the mountainside next to our car that both of our jaws dropped - literally.

Not wanting to be struck ourselves, we moved on, eventually landing in Sydney. I want to say Sydney is beautiful and majestic at sunset, but it was overcast, stormy and congested with Friday evening rush hour traffic. So forgive me if I save the adjectives till a later date.

Will update soon.