home... briefly
I made it, in one piece, and fully clothed. Which is actually quite impressive when you consider what I was wearing. My glasses are falling apart, my jeans are splitting up inside leg. I was wearing my old white (off-white, beige, mother of pearl) sneakers with the semi-detached soles, and my carry-on baggage was the old blue backpack I used for my entire 8-year university career, and it popped a zip mid-journey.
Probably not the best outfit for a two-day, four-flight migration; they should all have been binned in Sweden, but each item had expressed a wish to die in Australia, which I can't help respecting deeply.
Sydney is wet and muggy. Getting off the airport train at Museum, coming onto Elizabeth St, I saw something I haven't seen for a long time: sweaty people in sweaty clothes. I beat them at their own game, though, having sweated into my tattered rags for 41 straight hours by that time. Needless to say, the lay-dies (who don't sweat, but glisten) were drawn to my teeming pungence en-masse, like a high school biology class to a mangrove swamp.
Back at the pare's at tuz, feeling a bit woozy. Plans are afoot for a meeting at some sort of eatery/drinkery/sitdownery tomorrow night. Next morning I head north, to join the cok, ced, woody, marcus, magda, jenny and many others, for the annual Lord of the Flies re-enactment on the great barrier reef.
The post that certain Norwegians may have been expecting will come after the reef trip. Resistance to saltwater needs to be tested.
Fight the power, dudes.
xo
Probably not the best outfit for a two-day, four-flight migration; they should all have been binned in Sweden, but each item had expressed a wish to die in Australia, which I can't help respecting deeply.
Sydney is wet and muggy. Getting off the airport train at Museum, coming onto Elizabeth St, I saw something I haven't seen for a long time: sweaty people in sweaty clothes. I beat them at their own game, though, having sweated into my tattered rags for 41 straight hours by that time. Needless to say, the lay-dies (who don't sweat, but glisten) were drawn to my teeming pungence en-masse, like a high school biology class to a mangrove swamp.
Back at the pare's at tuz, feeling a bit woozy. Plans are afoot for a meeting at some sort of eatery/drinkery/sitdownery tomorrow night. Next morning I head north, to join the cok, ced, woody, marcus, magda, jenny and many others, for the annual Lord of the Flies re-enactment on the great barrier reef.
The post that certain Norwegians may have been expecting will come after the reef trip. Resistance to saltwater needs to be tested.
Fight the power, dudes.
xo
posted by I-Rock at 2:21 AM
4 Comments:
I thought I could smell something...
Remember - kisses - big sloppy ones for both the boyz. You have been warned.
I'll sweep them off their feet!
Off to the island now.
I've packed only the essentials: hammock, cezve, turkish coffee, china coffee cups, hilari-arse novelty headwear. About 5 kilos of camera related stuff. Didn't have room for the first aid kit, so that's staying behind.
see y'all in two weeks. Fun in the sun, I'll be blacker than Wesley Snipes. Darkness!
Two words.
Happy Dance.
(And I do believe its darker than Curtley Ambrose..., strewth!)
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