Cheeky weekend stop in Sydney

I couldn’t get a direct flight to Bangkok, which is niggly: they could only fly me through Sydney. So turning this downer into an opportunity, I hassled my bro Harry to have me for the weekend. (Whom I suspect doesn’t actually want to hang out with me anymore after a full year of flatting together.) This swoll lad who benchpresses way more than my body weight (ladies, one at a time) scored a sweet gig working at the Google Sydney office over the summer  – very proud of you man.

But even he knows the real reason why I came to Sydney is to go to the one-and-only Gelato Messina. If you haven’t seen their mouthwatering range of ice creams, go to their Facebook page, Now.

Unfortunately, I had a wobbly start to my adventures. While packing up my room in a mad rush, classic Tomo style, negligently leaving everything last minute – I tripped over my mirror stand as I was running out of the room, shattering my mirror into pieces. 7 years of bad luck? Yeah nahhh, not me. Or so I thought.

Misfortune no 1: (8am) I was enjoying my final western breakfast downstairs, when I heard a big BANG. I dismissed it as Vic House kids throwing out their empty beer bottles during their end of year clean-up. Yeah, apparently not.

I went upstairs and found both of my windows shattered, glass shards everywhere on my bed, floor and all through my suitcase. Minor panic. Okay, calm down. Major panic. F***%^&**K.

But big Buddha blessed me with top qual mates – Mama Sal, upon receiving my stressy snapchat, instantly came to rescue without me even asking. (Big shout out to her – she knows me too well.) Like an elegant, well-trained rescue squad leader, she calmly gave me orders, asked what needed to be packed, and eased my nerves with a salted caramel cookie she had bought for me. “Thanks Sal.” “No problem – I know you can’t handle these things.” “Very true.” Note to myself – surround yourself with mates who know your flaws very, very well.

Misfortune no 2: (2pm) On a more serious note, and it takes a wee bit of courage to admit this on a public forum – I suffer panic attacks leading up to travelling on a plane, and during the flight. So when 17 flights were cancelled from Wellington airport that Friday, thanks to the nek level gusts, my plane was bound to be a bumpy ride. Shortly after take-off, I turned blue – the guy next to me rushed to give me a vomit bag – he held the vomit bag in front of me, I snatched it off him and gagged three times. Lucky last. *Vom* So embarrassing.

Misfortune no 3 (7pm): My flight was delayed, and I arrived in Sydney an hour later than expected.

Misfortune no 4(7:01pm): A vicious hay-fever attack welcomed me into Sydney Airport. I Sneezed my way through customs like a dying squirrel. I couldn’t find my precious hay-fever tablets in my carry-on. Mares.

Misfortune no 5: My bag was the last one to come out on carrousel.

At this point, I start googling “why is it bad luck to break a mirror” and “how do you get rid of bad luck after breaking mirror.” Wikihow says I could throw salt over my shoulder, or pray to god – and don’t you dare throw away the broken mirror pieces. Well that’s a tad late, shit.

I pep talked to myself on the way to Haz’s apartment – positive attitude, Tomo. Think positive. What makes you happy? What can make this day better?

No brainer, because it doesn’t take that much to please Tomo Greer: some kai and a few cheeky beverages does the trick. Soon as I get to Haz’s apartment, we hit Chinatown for a solid feed. We shared duck on rice and fried noodles whilst getting assaulted by acorns falling on us every minute.

I then met Harry’s Google intern mates, and fought the urge to spin a yarn about the google conspiracy theories I’ve been youtubing lately. (This is the funniest.)”Oi, do you reckon it’d be crack up?” “Yeah, tell them they’re working for the illuminati.” (On second thought, maybe it’s slightly too insensitive to greet a future Google employee that way. Time and place, Tomo.) We bought a $4 bottle of wine, then made our way to a bar with a bowling alley in Darlinghurst, followed by another bar with a group of alty arty girls doing some sort of interpretive dance. We ended the night in Darling Harbour, sitting by the water and spinning some yarns with dirty cheap durries.

The next morning, we met up with Mama Sal who was in transit on her way through to Europe. (Man, my mates are cool AF and doing exciting stuff. Check out her blog here.)

We ticked off typical touristy things like the Opera House, Sydney Bridge and strolled through the city at a leisurely pace. We went to the Martin Place Lindt shop where hostages were kept earlier this year. Such a surreal and chilling experience, knowing that acts of terrorisms happened right where you are standing, in a seemingly ordinary and peaceful place.

At 2pm, all three us of crashed: we weren’t very sun-smart, and I ended up in bed. Shivering but sweating, and unable to move – I kept thinking about that damn mirror I broke. Man, is this really because of that mirror!?

After parting with Sal and wishing her a happy adventure, we ditched our plans to get on the piss. The only movie on TV was frozen, which initially Haz refused to watch. It took piss-all convincing and 10 minutes later we were watching Frozen at his apartment on my only Saturday night in Sydney. Halfway through the film, he realised fireworks displays were on at Darling Harbour which we promptly made our way to. On the way home, he suggested “should we stream the rest of that movie?” Lads, the power of disney should never, ever be underestimated.

On my final day, I had to tick off Bondi Beach off the list of typical touristy things to do in Sydney. The weather forecast said it would be thunderstorms, so we packed a rain jacket: sunscreen and togs didn’t even cross our minds.

But jokes on us – because it ended up being hot AF, so we both went for a dip in our undies. I got destroyed by the gnarly waves, and much to everyone’s dismay (or some seedy old things may have been chuffed) my bra and undies slid off. Good one.

Overall, I thought Sydney was like a bigger, more multi-cultural big brother of Auckland, with a warmer climate and more greenery through the city. Although I’d never been there before, I still felt comfortable – hanging out with familiar faces and speaking English to get around. It was the exact warm-up I needed before getting overwhelmed with too much unfamiliarity. Thanks for having me Hazman, and peace out English speaking world! x0x0