Fabulous, Dahling

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I am writing for free today from the local library, which you can join with a letter from my hostel and use the internet here for free, unlimited time! Which is great but I actually came here to do some work using my memorystick, and of course the library computers don't handle such mod cons.

Has been a lot of fun hanging round Sydney the past week, more so when the geography of the city starts falling into place in your head and you know what buses or walking routes take you where you want to go. Its much like being in London - the tube map makes places look so much further from each other than they really are, and though Sydney seems a much bigger city than London with longer distances to travel, once you know a few routes, you can traverse them without too much fuss. I'm now used to walking 40 minutes between suburbs instead of expecting things to be round the corner from each other, and with thr iPod and a backpack, and some water, it's an enjoyable jaunt- for example, walking from Central station to my hostel in Glebe is probably about 3.5ks or ten mins on the bus, but its about 30-40 mins on a slight uphill trajectory to walk on two connecting roads. So you can't go wrong. I know my way to Cecile's place in Maroubra, to Bondi, to Coogee, to Kendra's place in Cherrybrook, round Glebe, CBD... it's my last paid for night in the Glebe Village tonight but I am planning to stay another week as I have gotten so cosy there that I don't really want to decamp for the sake of a week to another part of town. I know my way around now so I'm staying put if I can. Which means another two days of free pancakes, one more free bbq.... I also made some friends at the hostel that I bump into in the garden. So there's no reason to go really.

But I have booked my onward trip. On March 7 I will take the famous Indian Pacific train (just a 'daynighter seat' though, no cabin, sniff) to Broken Hill, way out west in the 'Back O Bourke' area of NSW, in Mad Max desert territory. Spend a couple days there and then back on the IP to Adelaide for the 11th. There may be a family meet there as my cousin from Canada is coming there for some 'Policeman's Olympics' (cop chase race? not sure) with my auntie and other cousins from up in QLD. I have to find out the cost of the cheapest Greyhound pass for Coober Pedy and the rest of the trip, as my pass runs out shortly.

Last Friday I spent the day exploring Newtown, a really cool, slightly grubby, 5% gentrified suburb near the university with tons of really cool secondhand or curio shops and cafes. I bought a vintage issue of Australian Bikers Weekly for posterity and the ultimate in Australiana; the language it is written in reminds me of Kerrang's metal-mates-together style but with more swearing, grease, tits, AC/DC and all the things a large sweaty Hell's Angel should be interested in. In the evening I met with Laurence and Bree for drinks - supposedly quiet early night drinks - and after hitting a vastly underpopulated metal gig upstairs in some random hotel pub, where it was us and about 15 others watching four serrated edge metal bands whose members we guessed worked in the home tutoring and door to door selling industries judging by their hair and attire, we decided to find a place to dance. Using a copy of Blag which was lying beside the bin in the street, we found a mention of Purple Sneakers, a regular club night not unlike Buttoned Down Disco, and taxi'd it there. We continued to drink and dance among the university crowd and I made a proper tit of myself by doing my Crouchie impression, and rubbing arses with a rather animated Laurence to entertain Bree... I stayed at their place, rocking out there to a bit of Youth Group (covering 'Forever Young') and Giant Drag (covering 'Wicked Game') and checking out the awsome views they have of Darling Harbour and a little bit of the Harbour Bridge. On Satuday lunchtime we hit a sushi place in Balmain, now their village. Balmain is a very cute, probably quite well off village, with a cute market and more heritage listed houses to die for. Reminds me a bit of Dulwich.

Sunday was my 27th birthday and I must say it lived up to my hopes as one of the best. First off the sun was out all day, the sky was blue all day, and the temperature was at least 30c. I gathered friends old and new (Cec and Pete, then Lisa and Trevor from the Whitsundays trip, Breanna and Corinna from Glebe and two of their mates) for a picnic at the Mardi Gras Fair Day in Victoria Park, right next to the University of Sydney between Glebe and Broadway. As I walked up to meet the crew I passed a large, broad, hairy transvestite in a glittery mini skirt and a crop top, in massive heels, teetering across the road. And that started the day off as it continued. After a bit of food, chatting, pointing at the oiled up boyfriends giving each other shoulder massages and parading their very cute, very tiny dogs around, Lisa and Trev smuggled in a box of goon for me and a bottle of vodka for them, and then we went exploring round the different stalls and shows at the fair. I took endless photos which I'll make available soon as. It was a perfect day! And I had birthday greetings from home which were lovely.

This week was all about the sightseeing. I finally made it to the Opera House and the Harbour Bridge. The Rocks, an area underneath the bridge next to Circular Quay, is the oldest civilised part of White Australia and is part tourist trap, part European cafe culture throwback. I really liked it; there were the usual Aboriginal art shops selling at tourist prices and all that, but a little further in you came to a steep hill where lots of French run patisseries and cafes were hiding in heritage listed cobblestone walkways, with shady patios and filigree chairs and tables. Cecile and I went for a look round and I bought a very French chocolate treat (we both had a large glass of Grenadine!!love it!!) from a French place where Cecile's attempt to make conversation in her native tongue with the proprietor was met with the kind of gruff rudeness that could only come from a Parisian. We sipped our Grenadine and watched the very cute black-haired waiter go from table to table. On Monday I walked the length of the Harbour Bridge - taking in the 360 views of the city and harbours from the top of one of the Pylons - and getting lots of shots of the Opera house, which is not far away, from different perspectives. I walked back to Circular Quay and round to the Opera House to get some shots of it. I have to say, the Opera House is a genuinely brilliant piece of architecture, in that its design does seem to perfectly embody the spirit (to use a wanky word, whatever) of the city and fit in nicely with its immediate surrounding. It is built in the shape of sails full of air, but it also reminds me of flowers blooming, or seashells opening, all of which are good analogies for the country I think. It's quite exciting to look at. And it wasn't designed by an Ozzie either. Going in closer, you can inspect the working of the way it was constructed and see the pattern that the tiles are made of, which is really interesting; from the harbour bridge, much further away, you can see how it reflects the white sunlight. It's pretty cool. I had a go at getting some shots of the bridge and the opera house in one photo, standing on the flyover coming off the bridge, but I'm not sure if they came out yet. I went back on Wednesday with Cecile and the QE2 had sailed in the night before (with the larger Queen Elizabeth - which I missed but apparently it was spectacular), so I got some photos of the sea monster nestled in between the two landmarks. I'm no cruise ship fan but I was happy gawping at it for a while, it's huge. I wondered how it floats. Now that's good science.

Tuesday I had my first visit to Bondi Beach which lived up entirely to legend, almost annoyingly (?).It is a more 'showy' beach than the others but not in a threatening-to-less-buff-mere-mortals way. The surf was the best I've ever tried, the currents were strong and the waves were big and constant, so I threw myself in and let myself get washed from rip to rip until I couldnt catch my breath and returned to the beach for more sunbaking. I wish I had a board with me that day; I'm going again tomorrow and I plan to share a hire board with my friend Casey, just back from a jaunt to Brissy so she should have some tales for me.

Wednesday I met with Cec, Loz and Bree for sushi at the fish market, which is the world's second biggest (the first is Tsukiji in Tokyo - been there, done that!!!). We hollered over throngs of Chinese customers waving $100 bills at the fishmongers to order sushi-lover sized portions of fresh salmon, tuna and other things, and we watched as it was cut from the fillet. Laurence had a whole Barramundi and chips, while Bree sampled the prawns. It was very cheap and very fresh so we all left happy and full. Later me and Cecile wen to the Museum of Contemporary Art back at the Rocks - but I have to say that it was very poor and really only good for a patronising chuckle at the laughably 80's TV installation pieces and BA Art-level doodles. I knew already how lucky I was to be around so much fantastic free art in London, from all the most revered artists and the best collectors, but now I really know how spoiled I am there - this place had about 7 floors but only three of them with exhibits, and two of those devoted to one Aboriginal painter, and the last to exhibits in the style / borrowed (not sure) from Paris' Centre Pompidou, which I saw in 2001 and was not that taken by. I think what has happened there is no funding, no real interest from the masses in contemporary art, and lastly - the killer - political correctedness steering the curator to exhibiting a single Aboriginal painter on two whole floors. He was also quite poor I thought. There is an Aboriginal art store right near the Quay which I was contained work of a far higher quality and much more interesting to look at than what was on offer here, at Sydney's premier contemporary art gallery. At least it was free. Cec and I felt like Europe's biggest art snobs walking round and pointing - and laughing out loud as we both tend to - at the crappy installations, which a group of schoolkids moved round silently taking notes and examining each shitty piece in detail. There really needs to be more of a relationship between London's galleries and Sydney's if they want some decent art to show; this is one of the world's top cities and there is no reason whatsoever for it to be so lacking.

There are two things I really want to check out here before I leave - the 2nd anual Latin American Film Festival and the Chinese New Year festival. But I'm trying to limit my expenditure. I am trying to plan a cheap day in the Blue Mountains.

x

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Photos

Mardi Gras
Love In Leather

I have a Dream
Newtown, Sydney

Bitchhhhh!
With a Mature Age Gay drag queen at the Mardi Gras Fair Day - my birthday

Mardi Gras
Photos of Mardi Gras Parade courtesy of Ilja "What Do You Put On Your Bread?" Moschke x

Mardi Gras
My favourites - the Mature Age Gays