An Aussie hangover
May 5, 2006 | 12:00am
After almost a month in Melbourne, I yearned for a change of scenery.
Because I did not have sufficient means to go out, I spent days at home, cleaning, washing, cooking, getting nagged by an otherwise nice and solicitous grandma, and worst of all, having no one my age to hang out with. My head was getting unscrewed.
Most of my friends are in Sydney, so I did not think twice about enduring the 12-hour bus trip to see them. I am the sleeping type so the journey wasn’t much of a challenge. Between naps I took in the scenic countryside with Angus cattle grazing, triggering in me a craving for steak.
I stayed in Sydney for only five days, definitely not enough, but my friends tried to squeeze in everything we could do. Travel fatigue? What’s that?
I spent some time being a tourist, clicking away at Sydney’s famous landmarks like the Opera House and the Harbor Bridge, but preferred hanging out with my friends in the city’s famous beaches.
Sydney is a city of contrasts, the most prominent of which is the hustle and bustle of the business district on one side, and the white sandy beaches just a few minutes away. Picture this, after a gruesome day at work, wouldn’t it be nice to have an instant beach getaway just a subway stop and bus hop away?
The beach to Sydney-siders is what the coffee shop is to us Manileños. Even better, you can take your clothes off. First stop was Manly Beach, accessible by ferry from Circular Quay. We stepped out of the ferry terminal into the sea of students still in their school uniforms all raring to hit the sand, some with surf boards in hand.
It was supposed to be autumn already but the days were still summery. So we spent my last day visiting one of Australia’s most famous beaches, Bondi. The clear blue sky and the calm Pacific Ocean was a perfect lure for a fun day for swimming and frolicking in the waves. The beach was teeming with well-endowed bodies, many in thongs (and I’m not talking about footwear). It was like living a Baywatch fantasy.
The waves may seem inviting, but be careful when you hit the water. The seemingly friendly waves can get a little bit rough and could knock you over, which should give you an idea of how it feels to be hit by tsunami. On a bad day when the waves are too rough or there are shark sightings, locally known as "nasties," "Do not swim" signs are put up.
I had a problem getting rid of the "ang mahal" syndrome specially when I convert the Ozzie dollars to pesos. That’s why my friends brought me to this quaint Asian restaurant which is their favorite, Asian & Thai Kitchen, along Goulburn St. in Chinatown in downtown Sydney. The servings are quite big (one dish is good enough for two) and cheap and is fairly reminiscent of home-cooked rice meals. Owned and manned by a sweet Thai lady, she has a special fondness for Pinoys, and once she finds out you are one, she coos, "Salamat, darling," in her distinct native accent.
Shopping is to Melbourne what partying is to Sydney. Even the non-partygoer would be enticed by Sydney’s nightlife. Trendy clubs are right next to each other making it easy to bar-hop. Even five days are not enough to try out every single club, add the fact I don’t want to go home bankrupt.
The fun goes a few notches higher when Mardi Gras comes along. Ozzies say Mardi Gras here is the biggest outside of Rio. Actually, it’s the biggest party in Australia, even grander than their New Year’s celebration.
The history of the Sydney Mardi Gras began in the 1970s as a march for gay and lesbian rights. Until 1982 homosexuality was considered a crime in New South Wales. Today, despite men parading in trunks and drag queens in extravagant costumes, Mardi Gras has become a wholesome family event.
The parade works its way through a packed Oxford St. People who want to view the parade comfortably set themselves up the previous day, camp chair and beer-stocked coolers beside them.
Despite its raucousness, the horde is friendly. It’s the time to be totally outrageous without raising your eyebrows. For Mardi Gras conveys a message to what Australian society tries to spread all around, to be tolerant and to respect everyone else. Strangers will even give you a hug and greet you "Happy Mardi Gras!" When partying in Sydney, having an open mind is a must.
If there’s something my Sydney friends are proud of, it’s the local party scene; it has character. Gay clubs aren’t really exclusively for gay people; straight guys even come – some act gay – to meet girls. And leave your shyness back at home. You could come up to anyone and have a chat; you smile at people who reciprocate. Manila is a party place, but Sydney seems more real.
A big thank you to my Pinoy friends in Sydney, Kristine Guia Pascual and Peter Sereno.
E-mail the author at _ ketsupluis@yahoo.com.
Because I did not have sufficient means to go out, I spent days at home, cleaning, washing, cooking, getting nagged by an otherwise nice and solicitous grandma, and worst of all, having no one my age to hang out with. My head was getting unscrewed.
Most of my friends are in Sydney, so I did not think twice about enduring the 12-hour bus trip to see them. I am the sleeping type so the journey wasn’t much of a challenge. Between naps I took in the scenic countryside with Angus cattle grazing, triggering in me a craving for steak.
I stayed in Sydney for only five days, definitely not enough, but my friends tried to squeeze in everything we could do. Travel fatigue? What’s that?
I spent some time being a tourist, clicking away at Sydney’s famous landmarks like the Opera House and the Harbor Bridge, but preferred hanging out with my friends in the city’s famous beaches.
Sydney is a city of contrasts, the most prominent of which is the hustle and bustle of the business district on one side, and the white sandy beaches just a few minutes away. Picture this, after a gruesome day at work, wouldn’t it be nice to have an instant beach getaway just a subway stop and bus hop away?
The beach to Sydney-siders is what the coffee shop is to us Manileños. Even better, you can take your clothes off. First stop was Manly Beach, accessible by ferry from Circular Quay. We stepped out of the ferry terminal into the sea of students still in their school uniforms all raring to hit the sand, some with surf boards in hand.
It was supposed to be autumn already but the days were still summery. So we spent my last day visiting one of Australia’s most famous beaches, Bondi. The clear blue sky and the calm Pacific Ocean was a perfect lure for a fun day for swimming and frolicking in the waves. The beach was teeming with well-endowed bodies, many in thongs (and I’m not talking about footwear). It was like living a Baywatch fantasy.
The waves may seem inviting, but be careful when you hit the water. The seemingly friendly waves can get a little bit rough and could knock you over, which should give you an idea of how it feels to be hit by tsunami. On a bad day when the waves are too rough or there are shark sightings, locally known as "nasties," "Do not swim" signs are put up.
The fun goes a few notches higher when Mardi Gras comes along. Ozzies say Mardi Gras here is the biggest outside of Rio. Actually, it’s the biggest party in Australia, even grander than their New Year’s celebration.
The history of the Sydney Mardi Gras began in the 1970s as a march for gay and lesbian rights. Until 1982 homosexuality was considered a crime in New South Wales. Today, despite men parading in trunks and drag queens in extravagant costumes, Mardi Gras has become a wholesome family event.
The parade works its way through a packed Oxford St. People who want to view the parade comfortably set themselves up the previous day, camp chair and beer-stocked coolers beside them.
Despite its raucousness, the horde is friendly. It’s the time to be totally outrageous without raising your eyebrows. For Mardi Gras conveys a message to what Australian society tries to spread all around, to be tolerant and to respect everyone else. Strangers will even give you a hug and greet you "Happy Mardi Gras!" When partying in Sydney, having an open mind is a must.
If there’s something my Sydney friends are proud of, it’s the local party scene; it has character. Gay clubs aren’t really exclusively for gay people; straight guys even come – some act gay – to meet girls. And leave your shyness back at home. You could come up to anyone and have a chat; you smile at people who reciprocate. Manila is a party place, but Sydney seems more real.
A big thank you to my Pinoy friends in Sydney, Kristine Guia Pascual and Peter Sereno.
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