Down Under...

My flight from Bangkok to Sydney on British Airways was quite delightful. I had a comfortable window seat with no one behind me, and I watched the new Bond film, Casino Royale, on my own little TV screen. I forgot to order a veggie meal and was confronted with the very British options of chicken or beef. Luckily the flight attendant was able to snag me a nice salad from business class to fill the gap.

I had a shuttle from the airport to the hostel driven by an Iraqi who wanted to have a long discussion about W and all the various wars. Next time I'm going to be from Canada; it's just easier. I'm in backpacker hell right now, which is somewhat my fault since I accidentally booked the wrong hostel online. It's called the Jolly Swagman (which is a uniquely Australian term for an itinerant traveller) and advertises that it's open 24 hours. So exactly my cup of tea.

I think part of my uneasiness is that I'm in sticker shock after over a month in the wonderfully affordable land of SE Asia. I'm spending the same amount for a bed (around $20) as for an entire day in Vietnam or Laos. I may have to start working a couple hours per day at the hostel to cover my board. Then I can afford to eat better. But I should remember that I am in the NYC of Australia, and hopefully costs will be somewhat cheaper elsewhere.

I did have a wonderful day at the Taronga Zoo, including the ferry ride there and back across
Sydney's famous harbour, including views of the opera house and Harbour Bridge (AKA the coat hanger), which just celebrated its 75th anniversary last week. I really tried to focus on the Australian animals, which included spending much quality time with the koalas, who make the most wonderful growling/barking sounds when they are getting peeved with each other (in addition to chasing each other up and down the Eucalyptus trees). I also discovered the wonders of Wombats (a nocturnal burrow-dwelling marsupial) and the Binturong, which can only be described as an adorable tree-dwelling cross between a cat, a bear, and an otter, residing mainly in Indonesia.

I walked from the hostel in Kings Cross to and from Circular Quay, from where all the passenger ferries depart. It was around noontime, and I was struck by the sheer number of people outside exercising, whether running, playing soccer, rugby, or practicing kickboxing. It was as though the entire city was outside being virtuous on its lunch break. And most of these people weren't exercising to get fit; they were fit. Really fit. Almost an equal number were running or biking home at the end of the day, presumably with their work clothes stashed in the backpacks most of them sported. Talk about an outdoor culture.

Beer is surprisingly expensive here. Single bottles in a liquor store sell for A$2.50-4.00. A six pack of a local beer can easily cost A$15-18 (the conversion rate is 0.80...woe to the falling USD). That's worse than take out from a bar in Philly (the only way you can buy beer other than at a state liquor store). It's just odd for such a beer loving culture.

Cheers, mate.