Swagman #11 - Winding Down - Sydney, Australia
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Stumble It!Swagman #11 - Winding Down Sydney, New South Wales, Australia
(Authors Note: I have been informed that I was incorrect in my last entry about the group Crowded House. It seems that they are actually from New Zealand, but that the Aussies have claimed them as their own. Just like Russell Crowe - born in New Zealand but raised in Oz. Strangely enough, when he wins an Oscar he is an Aussie but when he gets into some bar fight he's a Kiwi.)
The end of my Sydney stay is approaching pretty quickly, so I have entered the state of mind attained before traveling where money suddenly seems to be in short supply. You can never really have enough of it, despite the fact that adhering to a relatively strict budget can get you extremely far. Unfortunately, Joe left Sydney last week. Financially this meant I would now be paying more rent and that we would have to celebrate his departure.
Since he would be leaving on a Saturday, he thought it would be best to quit work the previous Friday so that he would have a full week to sleep and eat any food I may have hidden from him. His work mates decided that a proper going away party was needed, so everyone stayed out until about 5am. Thus began the week.
After sleeping until 3:00pm we decided that in our current state it would be best to climb to the top of the Harbor Bridge. Basically, for the "Are you serious?" price of $175 you climb into a beige jumpsuit and strap on a Batman-like utility belt with a heavy metal ball that hangs down and is a constant threat to your kneecaps. You then hook on a fleece, a hat, gloves, a handkerchief, a head lamp, earphones, and a radio. In the end you look like a Ghostbuster, and it seems as though every person is required to make a joke about this at least once.
To prevent any potential lawsuits, Bridgeclimb ("For the climb of your life!") requires that you take a breathalyzer. Luckily, the previous night had left us. They also require that you remove anything from your pockets, your watch, and store away any cameras or other foreign objects that can't be attached to you. After about an hour of suiting up and training, our group stood in a circle and we had to go through the embarrassing process of stating our name, nationality, and reason we wanted to climb the bridge. I went first, and said that I had always wanted to climb the bridge. One young man stated that it was his birthday and the Bridgeclimb was his gift. Joe then said "As George mentioned, we're brothers. He's being a little shy though, because it's his birthday too," at which point everyone wished me a happy birthday and I was awarded the first spot behind the instructor.
If you can afford the cost, it is worth it to climb the bridge. It is not difficult - most of the climb is actually just walking up a slight incline. The view of the city is terrific, and you learn all about the construction of the bridge, the history of the harbor, and the pleasant tales of the numerous men who plummeted to their death while it was being built. If I can offer one piece of advice, it would be to go light on liquids the day of your climb and go to the bathroom before you suit up. Of course, the moment I got to the enormous Australian flag at the top of the bridge I realized I had to go.
I had managed to work in the pub for about three months without ever attaining my RCG, which is required to work on the pokies, or gaming machines. I don't promote this type of behavior, of course. It is illegal and I would have been fined about $5,500 if I was ever caught. But I was never asked, didn't want to spend the $75 to get it, didn't really have the time to take the seven hour course, and most importantly didn't want to sit through a seven hour course. So imagine how thrilled I was when, with only a week of work left, the owners asked a few of us to bring ours in. So I spent my day off sitting in a classroom learning about the dangers of gambling. Unlike alcohol, you can never cut someone off from gambling so it is tough to see the benefit in the RCG. From an outside point of view, it appears to be a way of taking liability off the government and the hotels as they rake in billions of dollars a year.
After the stimulating seven hours had passed and I was officially presented with my RCG certificate, I stopped by IEP and asked Nikki to hang on to it for me because Joe had arranged for us to participate in a booze cruise that night. Another interesting thing to do in Sydney. For $50 you step on to a party boat, pump unnecessarily large quantities of alcohol into yourself and watch the scenery as you jet back and forth in Sydney Harbor for four hours. Not advised for anyone who gets sea sick of course. Entertaining, but it gets a bit repetitive after awhile. Also, environmentalists would faint at the sight of hundreds of cigarette butts being flicked overboard for Nemo to choke on.
The next day, once again in rough shape, we decided it would now be best to make the two hour train ride out to the Blue Mountains and do some hiking. Of course we got a bit of a late start and didn't get out there until 3:00pm, at which time we were informed that we were basically idiots for arriving so late and that the last bus back to Katoomba departed at 5:00. But the two hours that we got to walk around were well worth it. Although the Three Sisters is the main attraction at the Blue Mountains and dominates the tourist brochures, there are numerous beautiful trails that lead down into the canyons, to waterfalls, to bigger and better vistas. The Blue Mountains would make for a terrific day trip (I recommend getting there before 3:00), but it seems that it would take at least 3-4 days to fully explore and appreciate the area.
Friday was Joe's last night in Sydney, so we had big plans to shed any excess brain cells. Nikki arrived at the pub as I was finishing work, only to inform me that as she was walking to meet me a strong gust of wind ripped through her and blew my RCG certificate away. Despite my initial laughter, this was not a joke. I had held it for about 20 minutes in all, and now it was probably drifting out to sea somewhere. I couldn't help but laugh, especially when I tried to explain this to the manager.
Joe arrived at the pub and I promptly forgot about my woes in order celebrate his final night in sweet Sydney. We had a proper night out with some of my work mates, arrived home at 7am and were up at 10 to get him to the airport for his flight to Cairns. Nikki had arranged for a shuttle to take him to the airport, which we missed. He bummed $50 for a cab, which in retrospect seems a bit excessive. I didn't care though, because the week had left me with a vicious hangover that had that oh-so-pleasant feeling that death was near and I just wanted to return to bed, where I stayed for a few days to recover.
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