Paddington pastimes

Sorry this blog has been so sporadic since my return to Sydney. To tell the truth, there just hasnt been that much interesting happening to write about. After staying a week in Lane Cove, we returned to the house in Paddington for another two weeks of catsitting Inky. Since then, we have settled into an uneasy regime.

You will notice the word 'we' appearing a lot here. Me and Harri have been thrown together, and have basically turned into an old married couple. Unable to afford a traditional night out, we have taken to inviting friends round for dinner in the hope that they bring wine and entertainment. It has been commented on by many of these friends that we have started finishing each others sentences, and making comments such as 'oh yes, WE loved that!' We drink tea and put our glasses on and read in bed and have developed habits of the 'honey, I'm home' kind. Its a bit sickening...

So, yes, at the moment, life goes: job hunt, flat hunt, watch movies (save money), walk in centennial park, pass out in front of fan afterwards.

After two consecutive evenings of watching her on screen (Hunger Games and then the Oscars), WE have both developed a huge girl crush on Jennifer Lawrence. She comes up in conversation at least 4 times a day. Often followed by some kind of abuse of Anne Hathaway.

Headed to coles for the weekly food shop this morning, stopping via the pet shop at Bondi which to our joy and disgust still contains tiny puppies and kittens in cages. Kelpie puppies priced at only $50, clearly so desperate for exercise that they are running round banging into their enclosures, as opposed to the drugged up kittens who woke up to be sick, lick lips, and then fall asleep again. Nice. It was heartbreaking to walk away from some of them. The Cavoodles, less so (part King Charles Cavalier, part poodle - not my fave...)

Poor Inky has been renamed Stinky due to his breath. We give him lots of love and affection and he repays it by starting to wash while sitting on your lap and almost causing you to pass out. While he doesnt seem to fond of his nickname, he isnt taking the hint either.

Its been a very buggy week. The other night, we were startled to see a huge cockroach walking across the ceiling. Talking about 3 inches long here. Too big. When pursued, it started to fly madly around the room. We were horrified, not having realised that flying was part of their creepy repertoire. On closer research (wikipedia) it was revealed that 'Australian cockroaches fly in hot weather'. Great. The next morning I came downstairs to walk straight through hundred of tiny spider webs. The wall was covered in tiny spiders. In the UK, I would label them as 'money spiders', harmless, sweet creatures that didnt merit squashing. However on closer observation, these tiny spiders were clearly huntsmen, and would grow from a few millimetres into monstrous palm-sized biting machines. Not good for sharing a house with. I unleashed a stream of insect spray onto them. To my intense discomfort, instead of dying quietly, thousands of the bloody things came streaming out from under the skirting board like some kind of post apocalyptic horror film. They swarmed towards my feet, as I let loose with the can of 'raid', screaming intermitently.

The joys of Australia. I miss home...!
 

Lazy and crazy

What am I doing? Hmm. In a nutshell, sitting around, vainly flipping through job seeker websites and wondering why the internet isnt recognising www.facemail.com

The cat has been following me ever since I had tuna salad for lunch, which isnt particularly flattering, and I'm watching reruns of Green Wing, and trying not to snort with laughter.

Oh and staring at a mindmap I made earlier (very Blue Peter) on hedge funds, which unfortunately I cant now read because my writing is so terrible.

A productive day then.

Money matters

Since returning to Sydney and a (more) normal life, money has become a serious preoccupation. My inbox is full of job applications made to gumtree for part-time work while I try and establish some kind of 'master plan' for the long term. Unfortunately, I appear to not be marketable, even to dishwashing and leafleting jobs. This is a bit of a slam... Although I'm sure past flatmates/family members would have some kind of joke to make about me not being particularly efficient in the dishwashing department...

One thing I have set up is an account with FineArtAmerica.com. Shameless self-marketing alert. Go ahead and check out some of my pictures at this address:

http://fineartamerica.com/profiles/elizabeth-hardie.html

And please feel free to leave comments (well, only complementary ones...!) and pass on the address to any one you know who is particularly in the market for other people photos or original greetings cards. Yeah, I know, I'm already wondering whether these people actually exist. So go ahead y'all!

Flo's farewell

It was a sad evening when we all converged on the Glenmore hotel to wish a fond farewell to our Floriane. After weeks of backpacking together it just doesn't seem natural that she wont continue to be there every day! So we celebrated with some great food and lots of wine.

As the wine flowed, the conversation also edged away from the norm. The Sydney crowd wanted to hear all about our trip, which took things into the diving realm. As with most evenings, at some point, the conversation invariably deteriorated. The topic tonight for some reason settled on procreation underwater. It was acknowledged that ducks can only copulate in running streams. Some confusion was cast over fish and their reproductive cycle. These can be seen as a biological facts - anything David Attenborough might comment on cannot be labelled 'smutty'. However, I'm betting the great DA never uttered the immortal words "you cant have sex underwater - just think about coastal erosion..." Hmm. Right. Yeah.

We left fairly early to start our first trip back to our new abode in Lane Cove. At this point, the heavens opened. The combination of the rain and the darkness was too much for us. We completely missed our bus stop, and ended up walking for at least half an hour in the torrential downpour. If we hadn't had umbrellas, we would have been completely washed away. As it was, I nearly lost my shoes on several occasions when encountering a raging river when trying to cross the road. To my intense embarrassment, i awoke the next morning to discover that somewhere along this slippy and slidey route, I had put my hip out of joint. I am now walking very strangely and feeling intensely geriatric. Cheers Sydney - great to be back!

Stopover to Sydney

Despite having just spent three and a bit weeks on holiday, I still found it necessary to break up my trip back to Sydney from Brisbane with a weekend stopover in Hawks Nest. Some friends were all staying there and had offered to put me up (again!). When I get a job will definitely have to pay them all back for their never ending generosity! It was great to see Amanda and Kirk again - having seen them everyday for months, it felt like a long time apart (well, for me... probably not quite long enough for them yet...)

Having told the bus driver a sob story about having to hitchhike in order to get him to drop me before my specified dropoff point - I was slightly embarrassed to get caught out by Kirk arriving to pick me up just as the bus drew in. Busted. Ah well, no more greyhounds for me for a while! It had not been the best overnight journey. At every stop all the lights came on, and we stopped for 45 minute meal breaks at 2 and then 6 in the morning. Everyone else got off the bus at Bryon Bay, leaving me and one other guy as the sole passengers. To my horror, the guy came and sat directly behind me. Creepy. I put my seat right back, and after about 10 minutes of feigning a horrendous twitch (combined with snorty noises in the back of the throat) he got the message and moved away.

Entered the house to cries of 'get Beth in a shower, quick!' Great, my reputation as a backpacker had proceeded me... or had the heady aroma of feet, cocoa butter and bug spray crept into the house that quickly? Instead, I opted to head to the beach and throw myself into the ocean. It was beautifully cold and refreshing. More and more familiar faces appeared. Unfortunately, having said hello, most of them immediately looked disappointed and said "what? is Harri not with you?" Great for the ego. Note to self: never introduce your most awesome friends to anyone, as they will always be disappointed by your solo presence in the future.

Hawks Nest was all I remembered. Within a couple of hours had seen dolphins, pelicans, and these amazing white parrots with blue eyes that picked up pine kernels and threw them at me when I came too close with my camera. Headed to the pub in the evening to celebrate two peoples birthdays, but had to beat an early retreat when the live music started... The less said the better. We all converged on one of the many dwellings for rounds of the hat game and lots of wine (and aeroguard... not a great mix). To my delight, a possum came to see what all the fuss was about. I'd never seen one outside a zoo. No-one else could understand my excitement at seeing vermin close up...

The next morning, got up early to go to the surf beach for a rousing morning dip. The wind had got up, and the surf was pretty good. I was promptly submerged and dragged down the beach by an errant wave, managing to flash an elderly gentleman in the process. I wondered why he was waving and smiling at me...! Emerged bedraggled but thoroughly awake, covered in sand, and with enough water up my nose to provide hours of entertainment when it would suddenly spontaneously pour like a tap.

Moved on to the estuary after breakfast, before settling on Winda Woppa. Noticing activity amongst the boats we looked up to see a huge pod of dolphins right near the beach. Without a seconds thought, we plunged into the water and swam out to them. From about 25 metres away, we trod water and gazed at them as they glided past, the water parting over their shiny grey backs. It was an incredible moment, so peaceful, yet for us so charged with excitement! When they passed, we turned to head for the shore. Only to realise how far out we had come. Hawks Nest is unfortunately not only known for dolphins and whales, it is also a shark breeding ground. Great Whites come here throughout the year, while bull sharks and tiger sharks also treat the lagoon (which we were now floating in the middle of) as a nursery. The swim back was not relaxing. Every second I expected to see the tip of a fin. Every shadow under the water was coming to kill me. All in all, we got back to the shore feeling pretty stupid! Ah well, at least I had the tourist excuse - the Aussie's should definitely have known better!

Buoys put to a less functional use! Looked like something out of a childrens book!

Final quickie from Queensland

After our eventful Greyhound trip, arrived in Noosa to discover courtesy bus from hostel would not be picking us up  so had half hour tramp with bags under a burning sun. Arriving at Duke St, you couldn't miss the hostel - it was painted a flamboyant shade of pink, similar to those pink ibuprofen with the sugar coating that taste so good.

Walked the coastline path in the late afternoon, taking in some beautiful beaches and coastal woodland, along with a naked 60 yr old female sunbather and a 70 yr old man taking a piss from a lookout point. Its the little things that make your day...

As it was our last evening together we went out for a real meal. Don't laugh, this was a big deal - we are all utterly sick of our backpacker diet. We dined on panfried red emperor fish with potatoes and a fennel salad. It was sensational. So good that after a mouthful you had to stop because you didn't want it to be over too quickly. We also rediscovered real wine, marvelling at how much nicer it was than goon!

The next morning we waved a sleepy goodbye to Flo, who was off to Byron bay, and sat on the beach for a few hours before meeting friends for a lunch of savoury crepes. One of these guys I know from the Canton in Stockwell (big up, whoop whoop!) and the others we had shared a boat with in the Whitsundays. Was great to catch up, swap stories etc

I am now sitting in Brisbane bus station, alone for the first time in weeks as Harri has left me to spend time with family here. In a couple of hours I will board the night bus to Sydney, getting off at Hawks Nest to reunite with Amanda. So sad that our awesome trip has come to an end, but, as I sit here exhausted and realising that everything I own smells of feet and sunscreen, acknowledging that its probably time to go home!

Dear Greyhound bus driver

Dear mr bus driver man,
We really arent your biggest fan,
Greyhound you have failed us again,
And this time no excuse of rain,
When you arrived three hours late,
some niceness might have helped our anger to abate,
and isn't it likely the name fteger,
is honestly a misprint for the name Steger?
We aren't a devious bunch,
We just want to get there in time for lunch,
Announcing that the clutch didn't work,
Didn't really make us smirk,
And learning there were airbags none,
didn't increase our sense of fun

To summarise, if you hadn't been such a bastard,
Some friendliness we might have mastered,
As you toddle on your way,
remember a smile can make a strangers day