Globechadder

This past (and last scheduled in Australia) weekend, I made my way up from Melbourne to Sydney. I travel my preferred method and it truly was a wicked time. Leaving the office around 16:00 afforded me plenty of time to catch the bus to the Tullamarine Airport, and with a round trip costing 26 AUD compared to 60 AUD (one-way) for a taxi, I was already off to a good start.

Landing in Sydney, I met my signature friend. Rain not only covered the city on Friday evening, but threatens to broach into my Saturday and Sunday, as well. Regardless, I make my first task to quickly learn the transit system and make way to my hostel in Kings Cross. After searching the subway map, I identify my destination and realize that I never printed a map to my hostel from the train station. This is becoming too common for me and I realize that the ability to synchronize my Outlook and iPhone back home has truly spoiled me. Dressed in business attire, I stream through the alleyways of the rainy red light district that is Kings Cross until I can find my hostel. As natural, it was very close to the station, in the last direction that I sought out.

After checking in, I very quickly change clothes and head for Oxford Street, which was the bit more fashionable district lined with rainbows as it were. I traverse my way from one end of the street to the other before deciding on a lounge that seemed to have decent music at the Columbian Hotel. It is not long before I am decided lonely by a local and incorporated in his and his mother’s night of drinks, dancing, and debauchery. Though we all spent far too much money on drinks, and liquor really is just pointless in Australia, we have a great night and I hope to see them again on future city trips. The next morning, I am approved to extend my current Australian trip through the following week and promptly do so. It appears that not only a subsequent trip to Sydney is in order, but perhaps additional country explorations as well.

Saturday, two of my bunkmates at the hostel are exchanged for a group of two from Hawaii. These two are pretty cool, and even better they speak English unlike the two previous. Deciding that we were all hungry, I join them for a bite to eat before falling into a most appreciated nap. Despite my thinking different, I cannot stay out until after sunrise without wearing it the following day; I guess this comes with age, or at the very least, training.

Later in the evening, me and the hostel mates head to dinner and out to Harbour Bridge hoping for a climb, but alas we learn that we are too late so we head over to the Opera Bar, located outside of the Opera House, before heading to the hostel for the night. Our hostel is surrounded with party-goers and hostel-ees as we arrive and it being 01:30, with me not wanting to call it an early night, I debate a dance over to Oxford Street once again. I simply do not understand the point in going to a new, cool city and staying at the local hostel the whole bit; I would much prefer to go out and experience outside scenes. Regardless, I find myself too tired and settled, so I call the evening to a close.

Sunday we decided to wake at an appropriate hour to venture out to Mrs. Maguires Point for the Red Bull Flugtag, or as we dubbed it, “Stupid People Flying into the Bay.” It was more than mildly entertaining and was turned out with a huge crowd along with a beautiful day. After watching for a few hours, we migrate back to the Opera House, wear the setup for the Aria Awards was underway, and then over to the Rocks, a historical neighbourhood near the bay. In the Rocks we have a spot of food and drink before I near time for my flight. I eventually swap information with my mates and head for the Sydney airport to go home to Melbourne.

It is not before too long I learn that Melbourne has two airports. One is approximately twenty-five minutes away from the Southern Cross Station and the other is a tick over an hour away. I, of course, had thought that I scheduled to fly in and out of the same airport, but in fact I flew out of the closer airport (Tullamarine) and flew into the much further airport (Avalon). Avalon was so far off that, after landing, when I asked local staff if there was a bus to the city, the response was, “which city?”. The time being right at 00:00 on Monday morning, I managed to find the last bus out to the Southern Cross Station, rather than paying the 120 AUD cab ride or staying the night in Geelong. Happy to get back to the city, I return to the hotel around 1:15 to have my corporate credit card denied at the hotel. Clearly, I am very awake and happy at this point. I am able to get the hotel to agree in letting me handle things on Monday, though it is Tuesday and I really have not followed through with my end yet. Maybe I should just go back to Sydney.