Sydney weekend recap
Sorry about the absence of a Friday post. I flew to Sydney Friday to visit friends for the weekend. Lots of delightful eating, drinking, socialising and a lot of children’s books read (to a certain delightful small child, not to myself).
Good bits:
Ending up in a Bavarian-themed restaurant/pub/café place in the middle of Saturday and ordering (between four) two large beers, two coffees, a chocolate pudding to share and a hamburger. All at the same time. Turns out dark Belgian beer and chocolate pudding work fairly well together, but the poor waitress felt she had to check the order three times.
Discovering the world’s most enormous secondhand bookshop, which is on King St. I may need to move just so that I can live next to it. It’s quite literally a warehouse, complete with metal steps up to the second floor and piles of stuff everywhere. There are entire aisles dedicated to, for example, communism (next aisle: socialism: next aisle, fascism). There are ancient, hilarious copies of magazines like Razzle (I wanted to hyperlink that, but I don’t dare google it from work, so if you don’t know of Razzle, just imagine a 1974 copy of a cheap nudie magazine). And the fiction aisles, oh my God. I kept finding books that I didn’t know my favourite authors had written, and all for Cheap. I was in serious danger of bursting into grateful tears right there in Aisle 17. The husband had to lead me gently from the store before I spent our entire savings.
Not as good bits:
Budget airlines that refuse to allocate seats are awful. I flew to Sydney on my own, and therefore didn’t care where I sat, but the whole queueing and jostling and childish seat-saving is something I could really do without. On the way back the husband and I managed to get decent seats, and together, but only by adopting a territory-hoarding queueing technique of our own. I feel soiled.
Sydney traffic. It always frightens me, because I am a Big Wimp. Fine, but did the enormous truck thundering down a narrow road and swerving in front of my taxi have to carry the numberplate DIE 696?
Next time I’m going to have to spend more time there or tell less friends, because I pretty much spent the weekend going from café to restaurant to bar, which is lovely and fun and all but I could do that in my own city. Note to self duly made.
Basically I’m bad at travelling, and so despite all the wonderful food and hospitality and conviviality, I am very much looking forward to this evening, in which I shall cook something healthy and read a book by my fire with both cats piled on top of me. I did warn you I wasn’t an exciting person.
Good bits:
Ending up in a Bavarian-themed restaurant/pub/café place in the middle of Saturday and ordering (between four) two large beers, two coffees, a chocolate pudding to share and a hamburger. All at the same time. Turns out dark Belgian beer and chocolate pudding work fairly well together, but the poor waitress felt she had to check the order three times.
Discovering the world’s most enormous secondhand bookshop, which is on King St. I may need to move just so that I can live next to it. It’s quite literally a warehouse, complete with metal steps up to the second floor and piles of stuff everywhere. There are entire aisles dedicated to, for example, communism (next aisle: socialism: next aisle, fascism). There are ancient, hilarious copies of magazines like Razzle (I wanted to hyperlink that, but I don’t dare google it from work, so if you don’t know of Razzle, just imagine a 1974 copy of a cheap nudie magazine). And the fiction aisles, oh my God. I kept finding books that I didn’t know my favourite authors had written, and all for Cheap. I was in serious danger of bursting into grateful tears right there in Aisle 17. The husband had to lead me gently from the store before I spent our entire savings.
Not as good bits:
Budget airlines that refuse to allocate seats are awful. I flew to Sydney on my own, and therefore didn’t care where I sat, but the whole queueing and jostling and childish seat-saving is something I could really do without. On the way back the husband and I managed to get decent seats, and together, but only by adopting a territory-hoarding queueing technique of our own. I feel soiled.
Sydney traffic. It always frightens me, because I am a Big Wimp. Fine, but did the enormous truck thundering down a narrow road and swerving in front of my taxi have to carry the numberplate DIE 696?
Next time I’m going to have to spend more time there or tell less friends, because I pretty much spent the weekend going from café to restaurant to bar, which is lovely and fun and all but I could do that in my own city. Note to self duly made.
Basically I’m bad at travelling, and so despite all the wonderful food and hospitality and conviviality, I am very much looking forward to this evening, in which I shall cook something healthy and read a book by my fire with both cats piled on top of me. I did warn you I wasn’t an exciting person.
posted by tanya at 10:11 am
1 Comments:
i used to be anonymous. then i discovered others are posting in my name.
unnamed budget airline is allocating seats, at least to tas, from ummm october or something. having young kids and rudely forcing one's way to the front of the queue brandishing the appropriately coloured boarding pass works a treat. remembering to brandish the kids also helps. even better if they are your own. but this approach takes a little more pre-planning. or no planning, but some time. shutting up now.
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