Back In America

For the first time in a long time I got to walk through the "Citizens" line at the customs and border check.  When the agent checked my customs form he asked me if I had been to any other countries prior to Australia and as I started the list he stopped me, smiled and said, "I'll just put "others."  He stamped my passport and I was home.  I'm actually in Hawaii, which is the most familiar place I have been in a while.  I like some of the familiar feelings, but at the same time it's a reminder to me that my travels have neared their end.

As I walked out of the airport I was greeted by my friend who lives here.  Having a real person pick you up from the airport is such a treat.  I didn't realize how much I liked it until I got in Andy's car.  Stepping out of the airport, or off of the train or boat, was a different feeling in each country and besides my cousin picking Seth and I up in Sweden this was the only other time I had a friendly face to greet me.  I think it just starts things off on a good note.

I didn't sleep or eat on the plane so I was hungry, but surprisingly not that tired.  Andy had the perfect plan: malasadas at Leonard's bakery.  Leonard's is one of my favorite eateries in Hawaii.  They are known for their malasadas, which are Portugese donuts.  They are just custard filled donuts, but they are ridiculously delicious.  It took us about a minute to tear through the entire box.  Not having had super fattening sugar loaded American food for a few months I immediately felt so full I thought I would burst.  It was good to be back in America, where fat people are made, not born.  It will take a little training and a lot of hard work, but I'm hoping I can harden back up my arteries in a few weeks.  I had a burrito for lunch, so I jumped right in.  It really is amazing to me how many calories you can buy for such a little amount of money.  I guess when you buy in bulk you get a discount though.

Last Night

I used to be a light sleeper but sleeping in hostels has forced me to adapt to sleep through just about anything. The hostel I am staying in here in Sydney is one of the smallest rooms I have stayed in. Somehow there are 6 beds in this room and each one of them is occupied. Last night one of the local bars was having a promotional night where they invited everyone at our hostel to have free dinner and free drinks. If you are staying at a place that is charging $10 a night, chances are you are not going to miss a free meal, so the entire hostel made their way over to The Gaff to cash in their meal ticket. I got my free meal and hung out for a while enjoying the spectacle of folks drinking as much as they could, as if they could get really drunk on the free booze and store it for another night, rather than thinking of, oh, I don't know, alcohol poisoning.

After some dancing and hanging out I ventured back to the hostel and into bed. A couple of my bunk mates were already asleep and within the hour we had all taken to our beds. I read a little bit, turned out my light, and began to sleep. Before I could fall asleep, however, everyone went insane. Let me fill you in on the cast of characters here first. There is the half German, half Chinese girl who is about 5 feet tall and can't weigh more than 90 pounds, she is a tiny thing, but very nice. Then there is Claire. She is French, a bit quiet, but a nice girl. There is the only other American in the hostel in my room and he is from Cleveland. He smokes a lot and is always showing me pictures of his dogs, which are huge canines. Then there are the two British lads. They are traveling together. They are great fun, always cracking jokes and saying things that wouldn't be funny, but since they say it with their accent it becomes hilarious.

So, as I am counting sheep, waiting to go to sleep I hear this snoring that sounds like a lion snarling. I really have not heard snoring like this before, but sometimes alcohol induced snoring is the loudest. I couldn't tell where it was coming from, but I knew it wasn't the British guys because they were still awake playing cards. I heard Chin, one of the British guys, say,"she's a little one but she can roar," referring to tiny German. "Is that half pint?" I asked, not believing that a person of her size could produce such a sound. "Yeah, bewildering, idn it?" Then, as if choreographed, the French girl started speaking frantically in French as if startled. She blurted out a couple of lines and the British guys and I quickly shut up, thinking she was angry at us. A few seconds later she rattled off some more frantic French, this time sitting straight up in her bed. The French girl was the first person to fall asleep, so we had figured out that she was sleep talking, it sounded like sleep arguing though. Frenchy said a couple more things then laid back down. The Brits and I were stunned, then we started laughing hysterically. With the snoring and the sleep arguing, it was just a strange few minutes.

It didn't stop there, though. The beds in the room are bunk beds and the layout is: French girl and German girl on one bed, me and one of the British blokes on another, and the other American and the other Brit on the last. The French girl had not piped up for a little, but the German girl was still sawing logs when the British guy who wasn't on the bunk with me started digesting his alcohol, which gave him a bad bit of gas. He was not discreet about his flatulence either. He was loud and giggled like a child after each time he relieved himself. It didn't smell great at all. His gas was so bad that it woke up the other American guy. Once he awoke he could now hear as well as smell was going on above him. He piped in with his frustration, "hey man every time you fart it goes right through your mattress and into my face." The British guy came right back and said, "I'm sorry, mate. They were serving cheap alcohol at the pub and it rips right through me." As he said this he ripped off another fart. I couldn't help but laugh. I just started laughing hysterically at everything that was going on and soon everyone else started to laugh as well. In the span of ten minutes we went from normal room to mental institution.

Eventually things started to die down. The British guy digested more regularly, I am guessing the French girl settled her dispute, and the German girl ended turning on her side and stopped snoring. For the next half an hour before I fell asleep, though I would go through giggle fits, just shaking my head at what had transpired. It was like feeding time at the zoo, where everything comes alive for a moment. The next morning everything was business as usual, though. No one said a word about it except for the British guy on the top bunk from me. We passed each other in the hall and he stopped me and asked, "what do you think that French bird was so pissed about?" I laughed and told him that I'm changing rooms if she tries to smother one of us with a pillow in her sleep. I was a little sad that I only have one night left here, but I'm starting to think it is a blessing in disguise.

The Long Walk

Luckily for me Sydney is not that big of a city. It is rather easy to get around on foot and having kept up a rigorous walking regimen I am in peak stride (thanks Arthur Frommer). My list of free/inexpensive things to do here is gradually winding down and today was my day to visit Sydney's famous fish market. I have been waiting for a bowl of good clam chowder for a long time and I was sure that I would find one there. I planned my walking path, which didn't take long. I just had to go out the front door, turn left and walk for four miles. I walked out the door, turned left and began walking. I felt a familiar feeling, though. There was some sort of watery discharge coming from the clouds above me. That's right, it was rain. Son of a bitch. I am starting to think that since the prevailing winds tend to go east to west, and I am going east to west around the world that for the past few months I have been followed by the same dam storm. The clouds look awfully similar.

I made an about-face and headed back in to check the weather report to see if I could just wait out the rain. The weather told me to expect rain later, but that it was not raining at the moment. I am losing faith in the internet, if it is on the internet isn't it true? I decided to go the old fashioned route and ask a local. I went to the convenience store next door and chatted up the worker there. He was from Taiwan, but he had been living in Australia for 2 years. His credentials checked out good enough so I popped the question,"when you think this rain will

clear out?" I asked. "It's done, you will be fine." He replied. I looked outside and sure enough, there was sunlight. I bid farewell to my new clairvoyant friend and chugged on, ever closer to my bowl of clam chowder.

The walk to the fish market from Kings Cross takes you most of the way across Sydney. For most everything that I have done I have taken the same street and today was no different, I would just be taking it longer than I had before. On my walk today I really started to take notice of all the little things. All over the city there are odd little works of art I guess you would call them. In one round-about there was a car with a big rock dropped on it. It is stuff like that, just randomly dispersed throughout the city. It made for some good photographic fodder, but I had to scratch my head searching for a reason why some of these things are there.

I did come across a giant chess board in the park. I stopped for a bit to watch. It was around lunch time and there were guys in business suits, I'm assuming on their lunch break, watching the chess match. Chess is not the best spectator sport. I would liken it to watching someone play solitaire. Every move that was made would provoke a wince or a sarcastic sigh from the onlookers. There was no shortage of sideline critics. Whenever I play solitaire on the airplane I inevitably sit next to someone who starts telling me which red jack to put on some black queen somewhere. I don't think that they understand that solitaire is not a team sport, hence the name solitaire.

With my bowl of chowder beckoning me I beat feet and trudged on. As I reached the fish market the sun started to peek between the clouds. I smiled up at Mr. Sun as I headed into Sydney's famous Fish Market. The market is an old warehouse that they converted, by converted I mean put chairs and tables, into a few store fronts, making it resemble a food court. The eateries are all downstairs and then upstairs there is the auction house where all of the fresh exotic catches of the day are bought and sold. I perused the offerings, still in search of my clam chowder. I asked an official looking person which place had the best clam chowder and wouldn't you know it, the only place that serves clam chowder in the whole fish market was closed for renovation. My c

lam chowder bubble burst. I donned a frown and sulked around the market for a bit. To my surprise, though, I found a delectable bakery. I wondered what a bakery was doing in the fish market, but why look a gift horse in the mouth? One caramel macadamia pastry later and I couldn't even remember what ingredients were in clam chowder.

The fish market is a short walk from Sydney's Darling Harbor, which is an upscale park and restaurant area, so I made a quick stop there. They have the world's largest IMAX screen there. It is huge. They were playing Harry Potter, which I did not have much desire to watch, seeing as Harry would be on a 10 story screen, so I sat around the park for a little. It did not take long for some menacing clouds to appear so I took the hint and made my way home. I felt satisfied with my days work, though. I failed to have a bowl of clam chowder, but was happy to substitute it with my macadamia caramel delight. There seems to be a reoccurring theme with rain and interrupted plans. Maybe I should look at a weather report and plan things in advance. Naaa, what's the fun in that?

The Zoo

I gave in. I only have a few more days down under and I wasn't sure if I would see a koala, so I accepted defeat and ventured to the zoo. The zoo here in Sydney is a great way to see the myriad of poisonous creatures that roam around Australia. I wouldn't want to see the Fierce Snake (Australia's most poisonous) out in the wild. There are few things that would make me scream in a high pitched voice and do all sorts of un-manly things like flail as I rud away, but a ridiculously poisonous snake would be one of them. I admired the venomous things from behind plexi-glass, which was fine by me.

The zoo here just had a new baby elephant. Well, one of their elephants had a baby elephant, but you know what I mean. I put that at the top of the list of things to see, right behind koalas. The elephat exhibit was hilarious. I don't have kids but I always like to hear children talking to their parents, and listening to parents skirt around the procreation talk is as entertaining as any prime time sitcom. "Where did the little elephant come from mom?" asks the kid. "From the momma elephant," was the standard reply. Children's curiosity is generally never curbed after the first question, so the kids would press on, "how did it get inside the momma?" This is where most of the parents would point to something, or suggest that it was lunch time. The zoo has taken the liberty of displaying the equivalent of elephant pornography, though, which throws a curveball at the parents. There is a big picture of two elephants making a baby elephant right in front of the exhibit. There is no way you can miss it. Most of the adults that passed had to have a chuckle, but the kids would ask what was going on. The parent of the day went to a couple that passed by and their child, who was probably around 8 or so, asked them what the elephants in the picture were doing and the dad quickly piped in,"they're having sex. You don't need to know about it now, but you'll find out all about it when you're 16." The guys wife hit his arm and quipped at him and he looked at her and said,"lets be serious, shall we, I'm not going to lie to him."

While I was makingmy way around the zoo I realized that Im not that into going to the zoo. It is a great way to see animals without having to dodge them in a car or worry about them eating your picnic basket, but it is always sad to see those animals in their tiny little cages. I stopped by the seal show to cheer myself up a bit. Those crazy seals can put a smile on anyones face. They can balance balls, jump and touch stuff with their nose, and wave those flippers to say "hi." Oh, those seals, they just love to entertain. They are a lot better performers than the spider monkeys. Those lazy bastards just lounged around.

Feeling satisfied with my tourist ventures for the day I hopped on the ferry and headed home. It is a nice way to end the day. You have to take the ferry from Sydney across the harbor to the zoo and on the ride back you get a great view of the skyline, Sydney harbor, and the Opera House. Even though I already have too many pictures of the Opera House I snapped a few more. Everyone else was doing it, so I gave in to the tourist peer pressure. Maybe I can sell one of my pictures to a postcard company.