Back to Sydney

On the 12 hour ride home (which we started at 10 pm), I am not able to sleep the entire time out of fear that I’d be too groggy when I woke up for my 6 am phone interview back in Berkeley. Looking back, that logic makes no sense.

Wired out of my mind from my sixth coffee, the phone interview takes place in the middle of a field (the only place I could get cell reception) and is perhaps the worst interview I have ever had. Nevertheless, I got the job. I hate to imagine how bad the other interviewees were.

We finally make it back to Sydney at about 9 am, pass out for a bit, then make plans for the evening.

Jake and his study abroad group are attending a ballet at the Sydney Opera House, and, despite it being a ballet, I want in. We devise some scheme were we say Jake’s friend couldn’t make it so he gave me his ticket. It isn’t very well thought out, but they buy it and I get to see the inside of the Opera House for free.

It really is quite a site to see. When you’re inside, you get the idea that while designing it, they knew this would become the defining structure of Australia. The ballet, Madame Butterfly, isn’t half bad. Nevertheless me, Jake, and Kyle all get caught drooling on ourselves a bit in the middle.

Afterwards, dressed all fancy and raring for a good last night in Sydney, we hit up a famous all-night joint called Pancakes on the Rocks (sort of like a glorified Denny’s), then, obviously, head to the casino.

It doesn’t take long for us all to decide the casino was a bad idea.

Finally, exhausted from the week behind us, we hail a cab, head home, and pass out. I leave back to Auckland tomorrow, and I can’t say I’m too excited to get back to the rain, semi-attractive women, and expensive wine. Australia is an amazing country, if I did it all over again I think I would have probably travelled with Joe for the two months in New Zealand, then headed across the ocean to spend my study time in Sydney.

Nevertheless, Auckland is a great home and I’m sure the final month and a half will fly by with the great friends I have made.

ANZAC Day

After sleeping all day on the beach, we decide we’ve probably had enough of Surfer’s Paradise, and plan to head North for ANZAC Day (essentially a joint NZ-AU veteran’s day commemorating the failed attack by both countries upon Gallipoli during WWI).

Before we head out, though, we stuff our faces with pasta at an all you can eat joint in town. We eat so much that they literally stop serving us. At least we get out money’s worth.

We sleep in another field that night, playing rummy until we’re tired. Kyle and Jake decide to sleep outside, but are forced to run in to the car when it starts to pour. Imagine five people sleeping in one van, everything wet, and all the doors closed from the rain. It smells wonderful.

Waking up, we kick the soccer ball around a bit, call home to wish our families a happy Easter, and stop by a free coffee spot along the road (they have these free coffee joints all along the highway called “driver revivers - they’re open all the time and are a fantastic idea to prevent tired driving). We talk to the people working, and they suggest we stay in town (we’re in a small village called Beenleigh) and watch their ANZAC parade rather than deal with the crowds in Brisbane. We all like the sound of that and head towards main street.

I’m glad we stay there, because the small town feel for such a holiday is awesome. I get the feeling that literally everyone in town is in this parade, as all the shops are closed and the streets are packed.

We stick around to hear some speeches and witness a wonderful memorial service, then decide to head back to Surfer’s Paradise, as everyone says the drive up to Brisbane is pretty underwhelming.

We get back to Surfer’s, eat some more all-you-can-eat, and get ready for a long drive home.

North to Surfer's Paradise

After waking up in the delightful dog park, covered in dew and bug bites, we decide to rinse up and catch some rays at Surfer’s Paradise.

Arriving there, we set up camp at a parking garage, buy a whole chicken and bread, and feast on an extravagant breakfast. It’s funny how when you’re traveling simple meals like that seem like the best thing in the world.

Full to the brim, we hit the beach. Despite it’s name, Surfer’s Paradise has terrible waves, but the beach is massive (looks like what I’d expect Miami to look like) and the town is made for fun. When we get there, a bunch of free Easter events are going on, and the town has a great electricity about it.

Strolling around, we are offered to buy tickets to a pub crawl later in the evening, and we are a bit skeptical initially. After some bargaining, we get some discounted tickets and plan to head to the bars on what is promised to be a 600 person pub crawl.

It is.

In probably one of the craziest nights since I’ve been abroad, we launch ourselves into a massive pub crawl. The night consists of a blur of bars, clubs (including Vanity, which is known as Australia’s top night club), beaches, girls, watching a wedding proposal, offering shots to the wedding proposal, and a casino. At one point we run into a massive fight, and after it breaks up Jake and I play doctor on the injured folks. Our little good deed for the trip. It was a bizarre sight too, as the victors thank us for helping to break it up and mending the fallen “because had you not, we would have gotten carried away.” Well, at least they’re appreciative.

After a long stroll back from the casino, we run into some folks coming out of the bars, and we share many a “Happy Easter!” Not wanting to sleep in the van, we grab some towels, head to the beach, and hit the sack as the sun is rising.