Upwards continued....

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I’d rented an apartment in Bondi with a few friends and now faced the task of getting there from wherever we were in Sydney. Nothing impossible, but not exactly the easiest task with bags hanging from every limb and very little sleep due to the ‘problem’ on the bus. We worked out it was going to be a train and then a bus to get to our final destination.
Like London the train lines here are color coded and it’s very easy to find the correct platform for the desired destination. Thankfully they are pretty frequent, from Sydney transit centre to Bondi Junction you’re looking at a train every 10 minutes or so.
I don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or a genuine observation, but I could not help but think the whole system seemed like something from Blade Runner. It really looks like a transport system from some old school sci-fi movie. The trains are these big double decked goliaths that operate underground as well as over ground. Stainless steel monsters, that hurtle down the platform edge towards you. The insides truly look like they have been designed to be hosed down once a day with a high pressure hose. There is graffiti everywhere and the guard calls out the next stop through a speaker system that I’m pretty sure was wired together with nothing less than paper clips and chewing gum.
It wasn’t bad exactly, just not really what I was expecting from Sydney. Practical is the word I’d use, like a lot of things here. But as much as it kills me to say it, I prefer the London Tube. (I know!)
After the short ride on the train, we arrived at Bondi Junction, the last stop on the line. From here it was going to be a bus. There is no Oyster card system here yet, although I’m sure they will introduce something like this in the future. There are Pre-pay tickets, with some busses only taking pre-paid customers.
Like London there was a scrum to board the bus, as it seemed to be a particularly busy time of day for our selected route. The fare for the journey was pretty good value at $1.90 for a single trip. The problem was space, with all our possessions we found ourselves crammed into the space that specifically said ‘keep clear’ next to the rear doors. Like the first eighteen hour bus trip the following 20 minute trip to Bondi was ‘fun’.
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Bondi is definitely the land of pretty people.
A world away from Bundaberg, full of bikini clad beauties and protein enhanced men, safe to say it was quite a culture shock.
The apartment that I was renting with friends was situated only a stone’s throw from the beach. As such, weather permitting; a fair few hours were spent catching some rays.
The sea was significantly colder from that of Queensland, and I would be lying if I wasn’t just a little bit worried about the whole ‘shark’ thing. At Bondi they have shark ‘deterrent’ nets, but these won’t stop a shark or dolphin from swimming through them if they want to. But being such a popular beach, plenty of lifeguards are around to keep a watchful eye. I wasn’t in the water when I heard the shark siren go off, but it wasn’t a wild panic like that of ‘jaws’. In fact plenty of the surfers stayed in the water, despite the lifeguards doing their best to dissuade people from entering the water, even a fair few bathers still stayed amongst the breakers, to my mind ignorant to the threat. Call me chicken, but I’m not planning on losing an arm or leg over a ‘refreshing’ session in the sea. But I’m not an Ozy and the idea of a 4m hungry tiger shark thinking of me as ‘lunch’ wasn’t so appealing. (The same shark was spotted further up the coast about two days later.)
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Continued...again!

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