Have you joined my incredibly non-annoying, once-in-a-while email newsletter?
So it’s the end of day one in Sydney… It’s Sunday night, around 20:50 here. I arrived around 11:30am, after a few hours delayed on QF12 out of LAX. Left NYC around 3:30pm on Continental to LAX, sat in the OneWorld lounge for a few hours, boarded the Qantas flight, found my Business Class seat, and settled in for the 14+ hour flight from LAX to Sydney.
Slept surprisingly well on the Sydney flight, got about eight hours, all told. The Airbus A380-200 had lie-flat seats in Business Class, so after dinner, I conked right out. They give you Pajamas to wear, which were quite t-shirt-sheet like, and exceptionally comfy. Finally woke up, changed back into my jeans, and replied to/deleted a ton of emails that have been waiting in my in-box forever. Had breakfast, broke through the clouds, and touched down into Sydney around 11am. Cleared customs without an issue, car was waiting, and I was at the Hotel Novatel Sydney Manly Pacific by noon.
Took a so-wonderful shower, got dressed, headed out to find some food. After a lovely fish-burger at Burger Me, I realized I was way over-dressed, found a surf store, bought a pair of shorts, then walked on the beach for a while, where I watched the surfers. All I could think about was the final scene of Point Break. (“I’m not gonna paddle to New Zealand!” RIP, Patrick Swayze.)
Watched some very brazen seagulls for a while, (brazen or just photogenic – not sure which) then headed back to my hotel for a quick catnap to catch up on Sydney time.
Two hours later, my watch beeped, alerting me to wake up for dinner with Tourism Sydney. Unfortunately, someone, somewhere, (I’m guessing in LA) got the times and dates mixed up, and booked me an itinerary based on my landing on Saturday, which I didn’t, since Qantas “ate” my Saturday. Instead, I landed on Sunday, so when I showed up at the restaurant and checked on our reservation, it was nowhere to be found.
That was ok. I walked around the Wharf area at Manly beach, and found a bar called the Manly Wharf Hotel and Bar. Seemed happening, so I went in.
A few notes on Manly beach, and until proven otherwise, on Sydney as a whole.
What started out as a penal colony, is now apparently a continent on which you can’t live unless you’re smokingly hot. This applies to both males and females. I mean, DAMN. I’m from NYC, and we all know there are no more beautiful women then in NYC, but still – DAMN. Everywhere you look! This might have to do with it being summer here now, but still – It was insane. And I don’t get impressed easily.
Additionally, I’ve been saying “no worries” for years. I had no idea it was an Australian phrase, until I said it and a knowing smile was returned. Go me for being all universal n’stuff.
Grabbed a beer and made my way to the outside deck to watch the water. There I met Kathryn and Cat, who immediately decided that I should join them in playing “Destiny Cards.”
While you know me to be a big believer in the universe and such, I’m not such a believer in these types of things. Tarot, Destiny Cards, Jack of Spades at the Rio… Whatever… In the end, my NYCynicism still shows through. But I indulged with them.
So you ask the cards a question, shuffle them, blow onto them, then pull three or four cards. Total scientific stuff here, no doubt. I don’t even remember what the question was, but the answer is below:
Yah. OK.
People just seem to congregate here in Manly Beach. One of the people who joined us shared with us his unique talent – He could fit anyone’s mobile phone into his mouth. I suppose that somewhere, at some point in his life, this will get him out of a potential felony charge.
A good group of people, nonetheless. One of the women there told me that she’d recently been living in LA, and on her last night there, got the tattoo, “Land of the Brave” on her wrist. Guess America isn’t as hated as we used to be. That’s a good thing.
Headed back to my hotel when jet lag started kicking in. Off to sleep, then, I believe, a walk up and over Sydney Harbor Bridge tomorrow – Which, yes, for some reason, is copied, piece for piece, from the Goethals Bridge, connecting Staten Island and New Jersey. Really, Australia? Of all the bridges in the world to copy, you copy the GOETHALS? OK then.
Night all, from Sydney, Australia, day one!