That’s right. No more Australia. It’s slipping away as this is posted… goodbye, noble land of green and gold.
I’m now up against more than half a day in a confined space—but will emerge butterfly-like from this intercontinental chrysalis a whole 4 hours younger. Honestly, how spiffy is that? Half of $1400 spiffy!
I do wish I could’ve spent more time here. That much is obvious. But no regrets. Everything does work out even if you try your hardest to make it feel like it won’t sometimes. I’ll be meeting homeslice Lauren in LAX, and I’ll be partying with her and Juicy till we get up to NorCal where I’m hopefully gonna settle awhile. And between then and now, I’m gonna write the last post on this thing. The last post.
Wowza! It still rained! And I still went! Despite having no hat, no umbrella, and only a leather coat! How’s that for determination? Still got up at 9:30, walked all the way there to the Circular Quay (which, by the way, isn’t circular) and missed my ferry the first time, had some awful prawn fried rice and a generic muffin… but hey! Zoo! I’m leaving tomorrow, in… what, 17 hours? Good lord. I better stock up on my last meat pies, and start getting used to driving on the right again. Without ado, or much of it about nothing anyways, here’s the spoils of the day:
It’s raining today in Sydney. I’m trying to figger how to get into San Francisco so I can actually, you know, go home. It’s too expensive and too late to get the flight directly into SFO. I can’t book a connecting flight to San Fran at my travel agent’s affiliate over here, which means I’d have to wait until tomorrow—the day before I leave—and make a long distance phone call to them. This original plan is quickly turning into a large potential problem. So I decide to investigate Plan B.
Plan B is just to fly into LAX as I’m already doing. So in terms of how simple it is I should really call it Plan A. Anyways, Plan A involves my excellent bestest-friend Lauren picking me up at the airport before I’ve actually left Sydney… which I know is a headtrip, but get used to it. Then I can spend maybe a week crashing wherever (which isn’t all that different from what I’ve been doing the past four months) and drive up north with them when she has her 21st birthday party. Where, of all places?—in San Francisco! Which is, again, why I’m now calling this Plan A.
But at this point in my day, right after I’d left the travel agent’s, I don’t know this. Which leads me to… the worst computer experience I’ve had over here to date, perhaps ever. Read it all »
So the past two days, since 5:30pm on Friday, I’ve been on the bus. Finally got off at around 6:30 this morning. For those of you trying to do the math, yes, that is 37 hours on the bus (minus three hours in Brisbane, collecting luggage—hoo-ray). It’s not really as bad as it sounds as long as you have 3-4 books and an iPod. It’s just that you literally miss a day and a half. So now, finally, with only three of those days left, I’m back where I started: Sydney.
Sydney’s not so bad. I mean, it’s a lot colder than it was last time. I now know better than to stay at the YHAs, or buy AUD at a rate of $0.80 USD. I know how to ask people for stuff, and how to answer “how y’goin’?”. It’s not so bad… especially when you know you’ve only got those three days. I’m not feeling homesick at the moment although I am still trying to sort out my airfare. As usual for all Australian cities, everything of importance is closed on sunday. My travel agents back home are closed, too. Nothing better to do than do my internet thing in a convenience store, of all places. Took a long walk this morning, saw some cool stuff, and got to upload it right after. Thank you, king and country, for untimed internet access.
You know, on second thought, Sydney’s pretty awesome.
I understand that everybody’s got problems. I mean, I’ve got plenty although I don’t blab about ‘em. But you’re too good for this, baby. You got a good spirit. You gotta let it shine. Racism makes things weird for everybody; I know, I’m an American. We really like thinking about race. We invented the eugenics movement. We taught Physiognomy in school for chrissakes. And we’ve had our own share of forty-acres-and-a-mule type hypocrisy in the past. We’ve tried hard to make it not important. And we fail sometimes, too. But please—overcome all of that. Get it out of your system, at least before I arrive. Please?