It was election day. I had just updated the GC and was off to Coles to inspect the quality of their mushrooms. It was 7pm.
Coles was closed.
Luckily, there are three similar stores in Surfers Paradise. I set off to IGA.
IGA was closed.
An unhealthy pattern was taking shape. I set off to Woolworths.
Woolworths was closed.
It looked like the mushrooms would get off easy this night.
As I walked back to the apartment, it started to rain. It began mildly, but soon grew frustrated — it became insistent. I continued to ignore it, and its frustration turned to anger. It was like walking beneath the massive head of a high-powered shower. It was amazing. No part of my clothing nor myself remained dry by the time I reached the apartment.
The security guard looked at me questioningly. To him, I said simply the words: “It’s raining.”
I thought that summed it up.
More things I’ve learned about Australia:
Coke comes in 1, 1.25, 1.5, and 2 litres.
The two litre coke’s bottle is made of sturdier plastic than the Canadian equivalent.
Also, you can get glass bottles of coke, in at least two different sizes.
A flood of Schoolies fills Surfers and its surrounding towns. Shops convert, selling clothing and sporting posters celebrating them. Nights are subject to their screams. Balconies are packed with their creepy, little bodies.
The hostel we were in soaked up so many as to have no room for us. Ryan and Paul moved to Southport, and then back and into their apartment, just as English as when they left.
I migrated north to Surf’n Sun Something Backpackers Something Beachside. This blog being public, I’ve decided that it would be ill-advised to post my opinions and thoughts regarding those that I meet. Hmmm. That makes it less interesting. Some filtered observations might be acceptable.
I met Kay. He liked to talk [to people]. Still Japanese, he left a few days later. Three others took that opportunity to fill the room. Two were sisters, and the other was someone’s sister, I’m sure.
Theresa killed a cockroach and hates bats. She didn’t like me at all.
Anna thought bats were cute and liked horror movies. She did not appreciate the gifts left by her bed bugs.
Natalie gave her two weeks notice to the strip club for which she waited.
Having never purchased beers in Australia, I enlisted the advice of an employee at the liquor store. I was led to a room that was eerily cold. My first thought that I’d followed him to my doom.
He proceeded to point out varieties of beer, and list their attributes. I selected a brand based solely on a commercial I’d seen some days before.
I bought six. I drank two. Four sit in my fridge, alone but for some moldy cheese.
I went to the beach a few times. Looking upward, I was mesmerized. I watched the clouds as they intermingled. They were not dense and opaque and boring. They were layered and veined and they moved not as a single mass.
I learned that I have a derisive smile. It has been claimed that judgment is marked by my smile. I would have described it as mischievous.
I have an apartment (payed for for three months). I moved in, leaving the three as Swedish as I found them. It is not a nice place, but if it were mine I believe that I could make it decent. It is decorated with a billion different styles. They work together to form whatever is the visual equivalent of cacophony. Thankfully, the great number of bugs serve to distract my eyes. There are two varieties that I’ve yet to note, but there are many of each.
Having an apartment means that I finally get to cook. Can I finally escape the strangely bland food that Australia thus far has provided?
In my search for a pasta sauce that isn’t gross I consulted the internet for sauce ratings. I bought two different types.
I’ve tried one, so far. I give it a four point five out of nine (4.5/9).
I’ve spent a ridiculous amount of money this week. Hopefully I can find a way to replenish my diminishing funds without resorting to renting my body to the elderly. Their wrinkled flesh leathery from years of sun. Their teeth yellowed from the accumulated smoke of a thousand cigarettes. Those hacking-laughs haunt my dreams.
Of course, that might be easier if I could get internet access. Apparently, they are very busy. Their only service to me thus far has been the endless and looping serenade of music while on hold.
Things I’ve learned about Australia
Cheddar cheese is white in Australia. Also moldy.
Australian money is always in such good condition. I feel like I ruin it ever time i put it in my pocket.
The people here are crazy at crossing roads.
I feel strangely at home when they append Ss to words (coffees, maths, fishes, etc) and also when they pronounce the word fillet as I would.
I’ve started looking for places to live. I even went to see one, today. It was decent. It kind of smelled gross in the hallway.
They say finding places to live is difficult here.
No one knows for sure, but I intend to find out. reboot?
I bought one of those pre-bowled Easy-Macs today! I was pretty excited, but it didn’t taste very good. I hope that pre-bowled easymacs are always gross, and it’s not just that Australia doesn’t know how to make things that are delicious. That would be heartbreaking.
Two days ago I went to a wax museum. It was okay, but House of Wax had raised my hopes too far.
Over the last few days, my meals have been dominated (or entirely consisting of) josh-sandwiches.
They’re not as good as the name might lead you to believe. The mustard tastes strange.
Hey that's the year!
Out of a hotel and into a hostel, again, today. Into an apartment-style unit with four Canadian fellows in the kitchen area (they claim they’re from Canada, but I find it difficult to believe that Nelson is actually a place) and two girls from England in a side-room. This place is kind of gross. Well, kind of is probably too delicate a term. But here I’m stuck for the next three days.
For a week or more, I’ve had a song stuck in my head. I had never heard it in full, so I couldn’t be sure that I liked it. Today in Southport (~45 minute walk from Surfers Paradise), I purchased it. How much do I heart The Veronicas? Turns out a lot.
I encountered some trolls tonight, fishing beneath a bridge. It reminded me of home.
I am leaving Sydney in favour of the Gold Coast. I am sorry, but the time has come to make a mad max style pilgrimage to Surfers Paradise. I’m sure you understand.
A boat, a bus, and a train later, and I found myself in Katoomba. To be honest, the boat and the bus, though prior to the train, were unrelated to my journey from Sydney to that old-fashioned, little town.
Upon arriving there, I realized that I really had no idea where I was going.
Well, that’s bit of a lie. I suppose I knew all along that I didn’t know where to go. Rather than remedy this in a reasonable manner, I wandered aimlessly through the intense wind and insistent bouts of rain until I found myself remarkably moist and separated from a surprisingly immense drop by a small fence. This lead to paths and puddles and perilous feats. Okay, maybe not the last one.
So there I was, in my nice shoes, making my way down muddy or flooded paths, choosing my steps carefully and daringly leaping over flooded portions of the path. The mountain trail and I were alone, for which I thank the violent rain and bitter cold.
When applicable, I chose branches at random. They teach that sort of path-finding algorithm in computer science.
A number of lookouts crossed my path, and I stopped at many – seeing dizzying vertical cliffs, trees far below, and lots and lots of fog. At one lookout, in fact, I could see little else but bluish-white all around.
It was a trek easily worth the two hour trip by train. I wish I had had more time to traverse those mountainous paths, for they led deep into the unknown.
fly report: DIDN’T SEE A SINGLE ONE. roommate report: the German girl moved out, and in moved 3 french fellows.
I realized today that I’m living in a freezer. I can only assume some plan has been put in motion which requires my long-term preservation. I cannot blame them.
I’ve always maintained that if ever I were to encounter a zoo named after a character from Futurama, I would visit it. Today I was forced to uphold that vow.
I was forced to take a boat get there, but I am not stranger to ferries. The boat was surprisingly fast; the voyage short and scenic. Next, (after disembarking, to be clear) I boarded a bus. The trip by bus was even shorter than that by boat. After all that, I found myself at Leela’s zoo.
Now, what do I know of zoos? Sure, I may have attended a few distant (temporally and spatially) zoos. Those vague memories helped me little. No, when I think of a zoo I think of a place where I have accompanied Tim to return a computer. A place where poker is played.
Sure, it could be claimed that on those occasions I did not see the Greater Vancouver Zoological Centre as it was truly meant to be seen, but the thought that struck me as I walked into Toronga zoo was that it was a different sort of zoo entirely — and no, not the good kind with humans and aliens in cages. Longest. sentence. ever.
Anyway, the zoo was huge. I was there for hours and still didn’t manage to see the entire thing. I did, however, see a bird show and a dolphin show. I caught a glimpse of condors, but they eluded me as I made my way through that maze-like expanse. I saw kangaroos, and echidnas (they didn’t look at all as Knuckles had led me to believe). I saw chickens and bears.
Oddly, most of the creatures seemed to have two eyes.
Ahh, reminds me of home.
That night I caught another bus, somehow I ended up in Bhondi. I walked along the beach as sand blew at my face. There weren’t many people around, possibly because it was night time, possibly because it was windy and cold.
