SPYING IN SYDNEY

The front torpedo room of the HMAS Onslow, Oberon Class Submarine based at the National Maritime Museum. Cool uh?

I’m sorry Melbourne. I do hope you can forgive me. I cheated on you with Sydney. The trip was all very last minute you understand? The mission was to hop on a plane for a bit of R&R and to meet up with some of my favourite booze-hounds and online comrades, Therbatron, Abe Frellman and Dr Yobbo. I was flying QANTAS for the first time and quite excited. (yeah I know it’s sad all you worldly travellers out there but I didn’t get onto a plane until I was nearly 35 and have only ever flown on budget airlines) Additionally, I haven’t been to Sydney for a proper holiday since my family travelled there in 1981. My only other foray into this city was for a high school tour in 2001 and I was manacled by fifty kids and their musical instruments so there were limits to what I could do, naturellment. So anyways, after having a coronary hauling my luggage up the overhead pass of Moorooka train station and travelling with the great unwashed, I recover in time for the security checks at the airport. Next time I fly, I’m going wrapped in plastic. It’s mortifying having to virtually disrobe each time. The belt, the shoes and the jewellery are easy enough I guess but the titanium limb can be a real bitch.

My first impressions of the city were all to do with planes, trains and automobiles. Much of the airport run and the city trains are underground. In Brisbane we have two far-flung stations on the outskirts of the city centre. Sydneysiders have the luxury of at least eight city stations from which to choose...and they have double-decker trains! No fair. My second impression of the city was formed when I was nearly barrelled over by several heads-down-walking-texters within five minutes of being in the CBD. These bastards are everywhere in Sydney but the Gods were looking down on me that morning in Hyde Park when I spotted the businessman-variety step into a steaming pile of horse dung left by the constabulary. Thirdly, they've plenty of statues to molest.

Highlights:

1. Getting picked up in Pitt Street. Sadly, a guy used the same line of me the next day. They were hairdressing spruikers looking to flatter and relieve me of my cash.

2. Being constantly asked for directions and helping a bunch of tradies find their building site.

3. The peeling of the bells in St Mary’s Cathedral. AWSM.

4. Getting lost in The Rocks. Ask Therbs about that one!

5. Getting ‘Biebered’ in the pub. Don’t ask Dr Yobbo about that one.

6. The Clydesdale horse trumpeting his presence whilst hauling the Lowenbrau cart.

7. Spotting my doppelganger outside Town Hall. On closer inspection however, he appeared to have a lot more stubble than me.

8. Making loud and atrocious jokes walking by the Japanese Karaoke Restaurant with the mile-long queue. Must have been plenty of sucky in their sake uh?

9. Talking to the lovely volunteers on the Endeavour replica at the Maritime Museum.

10. Despairing that the HMAS Onslow tour didn’t have the whooping sirens. Depthcharge! Depthcharge!