Surf’s up..
…is just how at least one of my reports from Oz was predestined to begin.
Have been in Sydney and its surroundings for a week now, and speed of life is on a comfortable level, indeed.
Met up with Per & Per on Tuesday after two days of Sydney scouting on my own. The phenomenon of jet lag took its toll, but it was nothing that frequent Starbucks visits during the day and a glass of wine or two at night couldn’t help me overcome.
So what do one do in a city like this? Well, the week has meant a lot of mentioned sightseeing, all the must-do’s including zoo’s, opera houses, bridges, parks
Feels quite weird though, coming up of the water being met by the tones of “Jingle Bells” performed by a guy in complete santa outfit, including the mandatory red Quiksilver surf shorts and thongs. A whole new thing.
Can also not stop being fascinated what a diverse country this is, peoplewise, with it’s locals originating from British convicts (in total 160,000 of them) being shipped “out of reach” of Britain starting 1787, their guards accompanying them, and of course the true Aborigines, the latter today representing only two per cent of the contintents total population. A thriving immigration, especially during the goldrush in the mid 1800’s has given the country in general, and the city of Sydney in particular a fascinating multi cultural atmosphere.
What I’m extra happy about is that the Chinese and Japanese population is so big in Sydney. Why, you might ask? That means a lot of high paced, genuine, steaming noodle bars and of course: karaoke bars.
A lot of them.
Strictly investigational, this Saturday our party followed our host in Bondi, Martin, to one of his hangouts, where he evidentally had booked us a private room for the evening.
Eight people. One karaoke machine. Three hours. Unlimited Rick Astley.
It would be rude to turn Martin down.
Now that, my friends, was a night to remember.
Unfortunately, noone did.
