I went to Australia for a week. I know what you’re thinking. A week? That’s bullshit – the country is huge and that doesn’t do it any justice. No shit. However, Australia is rather large and expensive, so if I really wanted to give the country its due diligence (hate that phrase), I would need a much larger budget and at least three months. Since those two things weren’t an option, I settled for getting a taste of Sydney.
As soon as we arrived sleepless at the hostel, bright and early c. 8 in the morning I signed us up for a walking tour of Sydney. Since we had very little time I wanted to get as much done as possible and at this point my body was pretty much trained to need no more than 4 hours of sleep a night. My brain on the other hand, was not down with this deprivation plan and I was unable to find the tour guide and thus had to improvise my own tour using my dreaded arch-nemesis – the map. Fortunately, between the three of us plus a random underage German chick we picked up (although I think the age of consent in Germany is something like 14 – you’re welcome pervs) we were able to devise our own tour that covered the Botanic Gardens, Circular Quay (pronounced “key”), Harbor Bridge, the Customs House, the Rocks and also coincided with a street market. Win.
After the tour and lunch (I’m obsessed with the way Australians have cheap uncut sushi rolls) keeping with my whirlwind pace we headed to Bondi Beach. The water was way too choppy for a shitty swimmer like myself, however, the view was excellent. Hot, shirtless, athletic surfers with perfect tans, muscular physiques and ripped abs were everywhere. I came to the beach with the intention of napping but that was completely unnecessary since I couldn’t have dreamed up better looking men.
Still postponing sleep, the post-dinner decision was to check out a special fireworks show in Darling Harbor. While we got there without a problem, figuring out where we could actually see the fireworks from was a bit more tricky. But Australia’s an English speaking country, how hard could it be to find someone to give us directions? Wait, what is that I hear in the background…is that bouzoukia? And that smell…souvlaki? Πού είμαι? I made it half way around the world fleeing Astoria only to end up at the The Greek Festival of Sydney. Kineza for life.