Crash Into Me

I woke up with a decent hangover Thursday, but the blues were still lingering.  I made my way into the CBD to attend to the aftermath of my misfortune.  I felt like a jilted lover after a bad break up when you see happy couples about their day as I saw people tapping away on their phones, making calls, listening to music and playing games.  Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.  

I filed a police report for insurance purposes.  The woman on the police services hotline made some light of my situation, which in the least invoked a smile.  Next up was the Apple store.  I was pleased to learn that unblocked iPhones could be acquired, but the price tag was just over a $100 more than I would pay back home.  I knew I wouldn’t be happy with any other alternatives, but this would be a big chunk out of the already depleted travelling budget.  

I found the closest ATM, but a hiccup with my account created a new dilemma.  I needed to get on line to make some Skype calls back home to address the issue, but I had a difficult time locating a hot spot connection with my laptop that I had been lugging around for the day.  The afternoon was also getting on, so I needed to curb my quest to get to the airport for my flight to Brisbane.  At least there is an Apple Store there too.

My flight was delayed by an hour.  I managed to get a message off to Lucas on line while in a holding pattern at the terminal.  I arrived in Brisbane at just about 6p.  I noticed that it was already dusk; Queensland opts not to follow daylight savings, so its standard time here.

After a few to and fros at the arrivals terminal, I managed to meet up with Lucas.  It was great to see a familiar face.  We made our over to his house, which is about 30km from the city.  Despite it being St. Paddy’s day we had a low key night as it has been a trying week at work for Lucas and I still wasn’t ripe enough to get back on the horse.  

Upon explaining my recent plight, Lucas provided a very kind temporary solution by providing me with his old Nokia N97 smart phone as he had just acquired a new Samsung a few weeks back.  It was extremely thoughtful of him.  Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise to avoid the impulse buy at Apple in Sydney. Now I have more time to figure out a recovery plan.  So, feel free to call the same number.

We coordinated arrangements for me to meet Lucas’ parents in the morning for a coffee then look into the possibility of using a bike they may have available to ride around Wellington Point, the suburb I’m staying in.

Kev and Lynn are quite nice.  As Lynn made her way to work, Kev and I returned to their beautiful home along one of the foreshore areas of Brisbane’s surrounds.  Kev, who is retired, keeps himself busy finishing home repairs, building a pool deck and restoring cars.  

There was a yellow 1967 Firebird in mid repair on the drive way, which gave me goose bumps.  Lately, most of the attention has been given to the 1955 T-Bird in the garage.  The Model T Roadster is merely in its initial stages of restoration/build. 

There was a Trek Bruiser, TW2 available to use.  Although not the typical speed wheels I would normally opt for, there were plenty of trails and parklands where I could make use of the mountain bike.  We gave the bike a little refresh and I was on my way. 

I was aimlessly cycling around the area; follow a trail here and riding a path there.  After a couple of hours I began to retrace my steps back to Lucas’ house.  About half a kilometre away I came hurdling down a hill…

…I knew the sharp turn up ahead would be difficult to make amid navigating the trees and staying on the path.  As I veered to avoid hitting a rocky crag, the bike dipped into a drainage area and I was jettisoned from the bicycle.  

Thankfully there was a grass clearing that was my landing area skidding to a halt some 10’ feet from the initial point of contact.  I had a few raspberries on my elbow, hip and knee – but no worse for wear.  The same could not be said for the bike. 

The front forks were bent and snapped in a couple of pieces, the front tire flat and lying about a foot away.  The rear tire was…nowhere to be found.  I searched the area for a good 30min, but there was deep rough and a fenced off area that could have easily lay claim to the wheel.

Aside from the scrapes, strained lats and traps and bruised ego, I felt that horrible sick feeling again as I made scrap metal of the bike that was lent to me in good faith.  What a nice welcoming present to Lucas for his hospitality.  

I ambled back home with bike in tow to lick my wounds for the remainder of the day.  

I wonder what other feats of disaster I could accomplish tomorrow.

Good Times, Bad Times

I boarded the train down to Circular Quay from Stanmore, the suburb I’m staying in.  Then I grabbed a ticket for the ferry over to Manley.  By the time I hit the north shore the clouds began to roll in covering up the blissful day.  This was an omen.

I nixed the tanning session in favour of grabbing a ride.  I rented a Trek 2300 for the remainder of the day.  At last, I had a road bike with gears!  I made my way through North Head Reserve before doubling back along the shoreline.  I was feeling sprite so I ventured off the path filled with vigour. 

Much like mainland, Manley is widespread with undulation, there were some steep climbs.  I didn’t care I was in my element, huffing and puffing as it may be.  I was in full flight for over an hour and upon my return to the rental shop even the rep was impressed with the amount of ground I covered. 

I had about 15min before the ferry arrived to send me back to Sydney.  I grabbed a protein shake and meandered down the wharf to recoup.

As I sat down and unlatched the day pack the most heinous of acts ensued.  I swung around my gear and felt the yank from the earphones vibrate my ear drums, before I could even flinch the iPhone plunged into the Tasman Sea.  The phone slot was slightly ajar….

…my first words – “You’ve got to be FUCKING KIDDING ME!” A few nearby patrons provided some empathy, but it didn’t help.

“FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING FUCK!” 

There was a ferry worker nearby and I posed a question offering recommendations.“By a new phone” he retorted.  

Really?!!

“Any divers available?” I feverishly asked.

“No….If it’s any consolation, you’re not the first one“.  He calmly answered while taking a drag from his cigarette.

“That doesn’t really matter” I replied curtly. 

I hung my head amid shock and awe.  I couldn’t believe what just happened!  It was early evening; any attempts to contact a local dive shop would be in vain as everything was closed.  Besides, the device is toast…waterlogged, salt water to boot.  I felt sick.

Shock, disbelief, frustration and anger; in that order.  I wanted to cry.  I mumbled many, many, many, many expletives under my breath.  Woosh, $700 plus dollars flushed away.  Just then the skies opened up.  Pathetic fallacy.

I was vacant. I thought about Pete and Mardi and their ability to curb emotions when presented with an unforeseen turn of events.  It helped, but I was still in disarray.

I boarded the 30min ferry ride back to the city all along hanging my head in shame as my lifeline was drifting under the rip curl of the sea.  

I tried to console myself.  It could be worse, maybe my digital camera….lost my passport….wallet…heck it’s just a phone.  No internal reflection could help.  I was numb.

I began devising a plan. Thank goodness I have Mobile Me so contacts, photos, calendar and files are uploaded on line.  Music could be easily replaced from the laptop.  Functionality, love and money cannot be restored.

I had a very sombre return back to the suburbs, wet, angry, depressed and full of melancholy. 

The phone in my room came in handy.  I called Vodaphone to suspend my plan.  I was instructed that I could keep my same number once I pick up a new phone (tomorrow) with a blank sim.  No use calling Apple, they can’t do anything – nevertheless I’ll swing by the store in Sydney tomorrow. 

I placed a call with my travel insurance provider and filed a claim.  I am covered for $500 if approved.  BIG IF. I’ll need to get a report from the Harbour Commission or Police tomorrow.  

Only one thing left to do…Open my remaining bottle of wine from Torbreck, polish off the 1/3 of vodka and two Hoegaarden beers I have in stock.  Maybe, just maybe this will make the pain go away. 

Probably not.

Changes

I was fortunate enough to secure another private room at a hostel around the corner at Eva’s Backpackers.  Unfortunately, there is only one night available so I’ll have to find another place to stay for my remaining two days in Sydney. 

This hostel was pretty nice, a little more quaint and a decent mix of young and mature guests.  The kitchen was well appointed with multiple cooking areas and very organized.  There isn’t much of a lounge area, but the rooftop more than made up for the difference.  

There is a few large patio dining sets along with a couple of smaller tables to accommodate a number of people.  The view was spectacular with clear sightlines of the CBD.  The best feature were the two working gas BBQ’s!  Only one thing came to mind when I saw them – Steak!

I made my way over to a butcher shop in Potts Point that I had seen earlier through my travels in the neighbourhood.  I picked up a nice Angus strip cut.  Then I grabbed some fixings at the grocery store; mini white potatoes for roasting, onion, peppers and mushrooms for a sauté and ingredients to make a nice side salad.  I also grabbed a bottle of red.  The meal was delicious!  I witnessed a few leering eyes as I devoured an atypical hostel meal.  The life of Riley.

My room was also much larger than my last sleeping quarters, especially with a Queen bed to sprawl out on.  It was unfortunate that I didn’t take up residence here earlier during my time in Sydney.  The hostel was cleaner and the staff a lot more friendly.  

It had been two straight days of overcast and drizzle, which made for a quiet entry into the week.  However, availability for accommodations remained scarce.  My last option to obtain private quarters was out in the ’burbs (or surrounds as they’re referred to here) that was about a 30min subway ride from the CBD.

Fortunately, Cambridge Lodge could provide the sanctuary I needed.  Oh, the lengths I will go to maintain my privacy and personal space.  I am an island or is it rock? 

The hostel is discretely located in the middle of your typical suburb.  I knew going in that the audience that takes up residence here will not feature late night boisterous behaviour.  Perfect.  Keith is a very nice chap and secured me a fantastic room on the second floor.  I have my own sink, small fridge, pantry and armoire.  There is a TV, telephone and Queen bed to make me all the more comfortable. 

The sun, heat and humidity has returned today so I think I’ll head back over to Manly for some beach time and a cycle before embarking to Brisbane tomorrow.

Saturday Night Fever

After docking at Circular Quay I made my back to the hostel to get ready for my Saturday night.  I had arrangements to meet one of my mother’s friends David who lived in Toronto nearly 20 years ago. David was kind enough to invite me to join some of his friends down at the Opera Bar for cocktails.  

I made my down to the harbour for about 9p.  The quay area was a buzz on a warm summer night, every bar, café and restaurant was at capacity with a beautiful allotment of people.  As the name suggests the Opera Bar is located on the lower concourse near The Opera House with a fantastic view of the Harbour Bridge, Circular Quay and the Rocks.  

Unfortunately, I do not recall meeting David from my younger days.  He is now a flight attendant (international) with Virgin Airlines.  All of his friends gathered to revel and recollect their shared history from working under the same fashion house some 10yrs ago, which seemed to be a semi-annual effort to stay in touch.  

After getting acquainted with David over a couple of drinks, I was beginning to feel slightly out of sorts.  However, after most people played catch up with one another and more drinks were consumed I was more at ease meeting some of his mates who have all remained in the fashion industry. 

I bonded with a small sect of crazy folks amid the dozen or so people in attendance. There was Patsy, working with Bally (handbags) who was a sophisticated and sassy.  We engaged in some insightful discussions.  Then there was Josh and Darren, both crazy rambunctious guys that had a no holds barred in dialogues about sex and men.  Although overt at times, they were hilarious – especially Josh who enjoyed being a little impish.  Lastly, there was Lizzy, she was a spunky gal that was a dancing machine as the band & DJ raved on to funk/electronic beats.  I was beginning to suspect there was maybe more at play than alcohol.  My suspicions were later confirmed at our next venue.

After getting our fill of drinks with some of us a little tipsy, we opted to sever from the rest of crew to hit a dance floor in Darlinghurst.  After some internal debate in the cab ride, we took Lizzy’s lead to meet up with some of her friends at the Supperclub.  She agreed to take care of the cover charges, so who were we to object?

The club was jammed with twinkies and playing a mash up of pop/hip hop songs.  None of us were all too impressed, but a few more cocktails and a treat handout from Lizzy to a couple of us remarkably made the atmosphere more palatable.  David and Patsy left the festivities sometime around midnight, but the remaining four of us continued on dancing, drinking and partying into the wee hours of the morning before I stumbled back to Kings Cross.  

It was gracious of David to take on the burden/favour for my mother and I’m glad he did.  It was a pleasure to meet him and it was another great night with some local folk, although I suspected Sunday would be a little more subdued affair, er recovery.

Natural Blues

It was another early morning rise for a tour pick-up of 7:30a.  There was plenty of choice to take a tour up to the World Heritage site and National Park just an hour outside Sydney, ranging in cost from $55 to $200 for a day trip. 

 

Once again after devoting time and effort into choosing a tour operator, I opted for Sydney Tours R Us that was priced in between the range provided above.  The company had an extensive 20yr history as an operator possessing a lot of favourable reviews and accolades.  

Originally I had opted to take the tour on Friday, but weather conditions postponed the journey until Saturday.  The company was very good at updating me on the status of the trips via email, which helped reinforce my decision at the time.

We were a full lot of tourists on the mini coach with 21 in total including 7 Danes, 6 Singaporeans, 3 Brits (Londoners), 2 Yanks (from NY) and a couple from Toronto (actually Thornhill).  I was seated near the front in one of singles that led me to have some interesting conversation with our guide John throughout the day.

John was a very engaging gent far better than Dave from my last tour.  He was a spirited individual who was born in Belgium, but has been residing in the Sydney area for past 40yrs.  He possessed a lot of great knowledge about Sydney and our destination from cultural history to infrastructure growth.  His dry sense of humour allowed me to forgive his disdain for cyclists.  

Larry, Curly and Moe?

Our first stop was to Sydney Olympic Park.  It was a brief stop and go that would become a sign of things to come. This part of the tour could have been skipped as we were there a mere 20min to take a couple of images of the stadium and have a bathroom break.  Nevertheless, it was a destination I wanted to get to and I’ll return by ferry with bike in tow as there is ample space to cycle around the grounds. 

We then headed over to Featherdale Wildlife Park, which is really a mini zoo.  This place was originally a bird sanctuary, so there were an abundance of winged creatures to view.  Unfortunately, they were all in cages, which I often have a problem with; however, many of the other animals were in open air areas.  

Wallaby

There were a few species that I hadn’t seen in person yet including wombats, dingoes and other variations of Roos like Big Reds and Albino.  The Big Red Roos weren’t full grown adults so it was a little less impressive as they get over 2m in size. Albino Roos are quite rare since they are easy prey for predators and at times attacked by other Roos to avoid being spotted themselves. 

Albino Kangaroo

The attraction was certainly a domesticated environment for the animals as you could pet the Koala’s that weren’t sleeping like this fella.  There was also a walk in enclosure where you could feed Kangaroos, Wallabies and Emus.  Having been conformed to human contact these creatures were basically begging for food and petting to anyone and everyone. Pshaw, I didn’t give in to their cuteness knowing their treacherous ways.  

I made my over to the reptilian pavilion to witness the crocodile live feeding.  The beast was an impressive creature over 4m in size that was far too large for the small pond they had created for it.  

There was an interesting tale for this once wild salt water crocodile.  He was captured from the Northern Territory after creeping into the Aboriginal village and eating a few dogs.  Initially another wildlife sanctuary claimed the overgrown lizard saving him from a bullet in order to breed.

Saltwater crocs are a very territorial creature, so our captured prisoner killed off his first mate. Heeee.  He was then presented with another alluring lass, which he quickly disposed of in the same manner.  Ha!  Finally, Featherdale laid claim to him offering a dedicated area all to himself. 

As with most wildlife in captivity they quickly adapt themselves to human interference especially knowing they are being fed on a daily basis, which is extremely atypical for a crocodile that can go more than a month without a meal. 

Before

After

Staged on a balcony about 5’ above the pond, the park attendant dangled a dead rabbit carcass at the end of a rod.   The lazy sot hardly moved a budge, so the attendant egged him on by splashing the daily feed into the water to engage its senses, which finally got the croc astir.  After a few more moments of teasing the beast, the reptile made an impressive leap out of water to snatch the prey.  Check it out!

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to see any Tasmanian Devils (Tassies) as they were in hiding due to the excessive heat and humidity the day brought with it.  I did see a Dingo, which looks like a lean Lab/Husky cross.  Obviously they were caged beasts given their feral ways.  Nevertheless, I grabbed some good photos before we set about our trek to the Blue Mountains. 

Beware of the sleeping Wombat!

The moniker to this area is due to the oil that seeps out from the gum trees throughout the rainforest and Jemison Valley which the sun reflects off of creating a natural haze with a blue tinge.  As we approached the tourist laden Scenic World the skies opened up for a good 45min for a healthy downpour of rain.  This was both a good and bad twist of fate.

Katoomba Falls

The good was that the overcast that ensued allowed us to witness the blue haze over the valley as well as witness Katoomba Falls in full force along with other waterfalls along the cliff side that wouldn’t typically be visible without rainfall. The unfortunate part was this act of nature curbed our time slotted to take walks through the rainforest.  Regrettably I only managed to take a 30min hike as opposed to the 90min journey I intended.  

I did fork over some extra cash at Scenic World to take all three ‘rides’ being the Cableway, Cable Car and board the world's steepest railway down to the valley. 

The Three Sisters

 The Cableway provided an excellent overhead shot of Katoomba Falls and the Cable Car enabled a view of the famed Three Sisters rock formation.  We were able to get better pictures of these formations from our next vista at Echo Point.

Jemison Valley

I felt like our time at the feature destination was cut very short and was merely a pit stop in our day’s activities.  I realize in large part this was due to the unexpected rainfall, but it was disappointing all the same.  I certainly didn’t feel as though I got my money’s worth although John was a good guide. 

We were also on a tight schedule to get back to Olympic Park to catch the ferry ride back to Sydney along the Parramatta River for the 5:20p boarding as opposed to the originally intended 6:40p time.  This was due to accommodate our young American couple that had performance tickets for the early evening, who interestingly enough were late for every bus rendezvous.  They also initially opted out of Scenic World only to change their minds part way though causing John to double back to pick them up.  Of course, they didn’t seem to care as to the ripple effect it caused all other parties and you wonder why our neighbours to the south get a bad tourist rap internationally. 

The trip down the Parramatta River was nice a ride providing scenery to the shoreline homes and good panoramic views of downtown Sydney, The Harbour and the Opera House.  

Still some of the tour itinerary could not be satisfied including Wentworth Falls, town of Leura and Boar’s Head Rock as well as the brief stop in the Blue Mountains themselves.  Overall I give the tour a rating of 2.5/5.  Maybe I’m too subjective given my hospitality roots, but I think I’ll try to avoid other tours in favour of self-guided expeditions for the rest of my time away.

Taste It

The morning was cloudy with sprinkles on/off, so I spent a rather quiet AM doing some laundry and relaxing.  However, the afternoon brought about clearer skies.  I returned the bike today, as my week’s rental had expired.  I’ll likely grab another ride for a day or two dependent on the weather. 

I walked over to Centennial Park by early evening to take in the Taste of Sydney, a gourmet food & drink expo.  The festival is a collection of some of Sydney’s gourmet restaurants offering small plates in the $10 range.  There are also a number of wineries and microbrews along with a host of retailers catering to the foodie group from cheese to preserves and stemware to cookware.  In addition, there are various clinics from cooking, wine tasting and mixology one could participate in.

My first stop was at the Taste Kitchen where local chefs were presenting some signature dishes on stage. I arrived just as Colin Fassinidge from Four in Hand  entered the presentation platform.  This pavilion caught my attention as Led Zeppelin was playing.  Colin proceeded to have IV play throughout his demonstration.  

The restaurant specializes in head to tail cooking, the latest trend in the industry.  He brought out about a 3 month old pig dismembering it explaining the use for each cut, then on to preparation and plating dishes.  Some people were a little squeamish, which was humourous to observe.

Having worked up an appetite I made my way over to the Assiette & District Dining booth.  Each locale was serving a selection of 2-3 dishes; I opted for the crispy pork belly, cashew nut caramel, watermelon and mint dish.  Power of suggestion? The first piece I had was a little dry, but the second serving possessed more flavour. The cashew nut caramel did little to enhance the dish. So-so.

Next up I visited Aperitif, a Mediterranean restaurant located here in Kings Cross that doesn’t have a web site, so you’ll have to settle for this profile page. Poor marketing if you ask me.  Anyway, I tried the Regal king salmon curado with chilli and star anise.  The fish was very tasty, but the amount of dill on the crust overpowered the chilli spice. Star anise was relatively innocuous, but the roe topping made up for the indifference including over garnishing with rock salt. 

I had developed a thirst so I grabbed a beverage from Lord Nelson Brewery and tried their Three Sheets Pale Ale, which was almost like a Weiss beer in flavour.  It was quite quenching. There was a cute server too that lured me here.    

The third stop on my food journey was to Bird Cow Fish, where I sampled the boned and roasted Barossa Valley roasted chicken stuffed with mushroom duxelle; and pommes puree.  This was the best dish I tried during the evening and was the most filling.  

I polished off the evening with dessert from Ormeggio at the Spit for a serving of their dark chocolate and coffee ‘Barbjada’ with almond crumble.  It was a delicious not overly rich end to the evening. 

I had a leisurely walk back to the hostel to work off my calorie intake to rest up for my early morning tour departure to the Blue Mountains.