Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Australia, I love you

Randy dropped me off at the airport the next afternoon and I went through airport security without a hitch. I met an American girl in line before my journey to Oz. She was moving to Sydney and we immediately hit it off. We giggled and drank the entire wait and then some more on the plane. We exchanged info when we got to Sydney after my 10 hour hung-over flight. I was headed to Melbourne and she was headed over to Sydney. I told her I was headed to Sydney after the weekend. So we planned to meet up after I arrived in Sydney.

I happened to go to Melbourne purely on a lark. When I was planning the trip, it was postponed three times due to work. So, the hotel I was staying at was completely booked. So I decided to fly to Melbourne instead to wait out the booked hotels. I figured the hotels were full because it was the last precious days of summer in Australia. So after my 10 hour flight, I had to hop on a plane to Melbourne after that. So needless to say, I was pretty cranky when I arrived. I cussed out a shuttle ticket machine and tried to navigate the tram system in the middle of the night while trying to lug around my 50 pound suitcase. So while I’m screaming the F word multiple times, the shuttle bus driver gets off the bus and tells me I can pay cash on the bus. After my shuttle ride I had to take a tram the rest of the way to the hotel. Since I could navigate my way around the damn Japanese subway, surely I can ride a tram in an English speaking country, right? My patience waned as I stared at the ticket machine. Zone 1, Zone 2, what the hell did I know? Again with the F word and muttering. The guy behind me helped me with my dilemma sent me on my way to catch the tram. A wrong stop and a cab ride later, I finally arrived at the hotel in St. Kilda.

I arrived and immediately remedied my exhaustion and irritation by having a beer in the pub downstairs (ok, more like 3). I befriended the staff and the immediately invited me out for the rest of the week. How badass am I? I went with Joe, the bouncer, to an after hours club and stayed out until 5am and several more beers. People that drink in an after hours bar in Melbourne in St. Kilda are scary. Of course Joe, being a stocky bouncer from Italy, was scarier. I met some of his friends, one of whom kept touching my hair (shudder). I think people in other countries don’t have that American personal space thing. So I politely told him to stop touching my F word hair. Joe laughed and slapped me on the back and said I was the nicest American he had ever met.

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