1st night in Sydney

In bike, ozstraylia, travelling on April 2, 2010 at 9:19 pm

First things first, I miss my flight from Melbourne to Sydney. I’ve was upto four with David drinking gorgeous rum and cokes at Cookie and a watery capiroska at Toff at the Top when all I wanted was a caiphrinha, and beers at the rooftop bar until they kicked us out.

As we’d talked about David and the families adventures in Daintree, poor car choice to get to a Eco lodge in a rainforest during the rainy season, scuba diving off the great barrier reef, horse riding twitchy nervous steeds, and shopping in Tokyo, god I miss Tokyo.

There was also a certain amount of intellectual interrogation of the idea and structure of the novel that I’m still not writing even though I spent several days scanning in articles which I’d lugged across the world for research purposes. Good questions to which I didn’t have the answers to. I have the feeling that no matter how I write it the ending will be far too easy to see coming, and will be trite and banal. God I hope it isn’t though. I haven’t even finished writing it and already I’m doubting the quality of it.

So we stagger back to south Melbourne grabbing hungry jacks on the way (burger king in Australia) I have an ultimate burger, three beef patties and six rashers of bacon. Yum yum.

I wake up by the power of sleep cycle bright eyed at eight and proceed to break the bike down and pack it into the new bike bag I’ve purchased off Joel/Jol it’s a ground effect Tardis and it’s all I’ve ever wanted in a bike bag, if your traveling with a bike go and don’t need shit loads of padding or wheels get one it’s intelligently designed, packawayable, and robust enough (hopefully) to be with me for the rest of my worldwide tour.

(pictures below of the bike broken down, people always seem really surprised when I mention I’m travelling with a bike, and that all I do is take off the wheels, turn the bars round, take off the pedals, shove the seatpost down and away we go. It isn’t that difficult and only takes forty mins to an hour)

So the packing after the bike takes longer than expected and we don’t leave till like quarter to ten and my flight leaves at eleven. Get to the airport by half ten and when I try to get a boarding pass it directs me to a special desk. Not good. Wait in line for another ten mins and then am told I’ve missed my flight. Fuck, money I don’t have to purchase another flight to Sydney. But wait! I’ve got flexible tickets so Quantas girl, well woman really puts me on the one o’clock just an hour and forty min wait till I can board and no charge. Get in!

I surf the interweb, catch up on the England result, sorry Meriem. Laugh out loud from some postings on THE forum. I will be rolling round now yelling at the top of my lungs. I FUCKING LOVE CYCLING! Scan some emails and then make the long whistling walk to the gate.

Arrive in Sydney, catch train, lovely long silver double decker trains they’ve got over here. Make a promise to myself to do more touristy things in my time here. First up walk up the Sydney harbour bridge.

Get off train at Kings Cross where my hostel is located and the folding trolley I bought in Osaka gives up the ghost, not the base or the wheels but the retractable arms of the handle, they are bent beyond their capacity by the extra bag I’m lugging (reminder to self must lose more weight) and then have to relay the bags to the hostel, not fun! And by the time I get there I’m soaked through, and all I want is a shower and a power nap, because I’m out to shake what my momma gave me to the afrobeat stylings of Mr Gilles Peterson who is djing for Brooklyn’s own Antibalas Afrobeat orchestra.

But I don’t get the chance to power nap, the shower takes a long time as does shaving my head and putting the bike together.

I could roll down to Mannings bar in Sydney university later but I’m a cyclist in a strange city, I don’t know where I’m going, I’ve plotted a route on my map, but I have no idea how long it will take, so I’m getting out there early.

First impressions of Sydney are favourable, it immediately feels more city like and larger than Melbourne, the hills which I’d heard about aren’t on this ride that evident, it undulates and even I can see how it’s built on levels and there are height changes for all to see, but I’m more concerned with the heat and the amount of sweat that’s rolling off me, feels more humid here than Melbourne, and I’m getting bitten to fuck, mosquitoes love that thick northern hemisphere blood.

I spot my first fixed bikes as I roll towards the university, his and hers locked up outside a pub/hotel.

I’m liking Sydney already, working off four hours sleep and ready to get sweaty to the big beats.

Got to go Mr Peterson has just hit the decks…

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