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Published: April 4th 2005
Drive in and load up on beer, how cool is that?
They don't allow drive-in booze shops like this, or allow petrol stations to sell booze in Blighty because, of course, it may encourage drink-driving (!?). You are allowed to buy porn mags in your local Esso for some reason.
Here in Sydney, what happened? Well, Karl - a bit of a ditherer - dithered in the direction of Malaysia/Singapore and I got word that Bob and his fishpot were not leaving for quite a while so I thought bugger this for a game of soldiers and took a flight to Darwin.
Good job really. One day in Darwin and I came down with some mysterious tropical fever thing I musta got in Timor. The doc wasn't the most tactful bloke in the world and I spent the next day scared half shitless that I had malaria and was going to die in a less than graceful style. 2 days later, 6 vials of blood and $250 lighter, I found out I wasn't going to die. A week later and feeling better after the worst illness since something really bad when I was a kid, the test for number one suspect, dengue fever, came up negative. Eh? I could have another test, they said, to double check that it wasn't dengue. Why? I am convinced it was dengue so it *was* dengue(like I know). I feel hunky-dory now anyway, so ner.
I flew straight to Sydney from Darwin and
Down on the farm
My brother, Simon, wears all of my old clothes.
spent a week in bed. But even so my ma n pa, brother, sis-in-law and niece seemed glad to see me, if a bit unsure how to celebrate the family reunion when one member cannot stand up without wanting to puke for the first 3 days.
Okay, so from the "over land and sea" perspective, I got tantalisingly not quite there. I got to the foot of the travelator, ran at it a few times and fell flat down with the rotating rubber grinding against my face. But believe me, after a few days in Dili you gotta leave from sheer boredom and I simply couldn't wait to head up that runway. I thought I was going to be be sent back there as the polite people at Darwin customs grilled me for an hour, went through my stuff in minute detail, asked me the same questions again and again and marveled at the visas I had (they were particularly impressed with Mongolia and Iran, but one guy was convinced that Iran was synonymous with opium and I thought I was close to a rubber glove encounter so I pointed out that it was way back last September).
Have you ever seen this before?
Just fulfilling the Travelblog.org legal requirement to have a picture of the Bridge + Opera House when writing from Sydney.
Now there is a semblance of normality and 'reality' in Australia. Things cost real money, the government is trying to scare us and property is unaffordable. Which means just one thing: get up off my arse, find some work and rejoin the rat race before time runs out. Then I can afford to do the really fun stuff here, if I get the time and can be bothered to get out of bed at the weekends after the night before.
The Pope popped the old clogs this weekend. We had a sweepstake over the time of death, I was out by miles. We commemorated the occasion with a Father-Tedathon.
Tot: 0.135s; Tpl: 0.028s; cc: 16; qc: 119; dbt: 0.0431s; 1; m:saturn w:www (22.214.171.124); sld: 4;
; mem: 1.6mb