I can haz eyeball?

AUSSIES AND ROOS! Part deux.

Ok well first I just figured out how to play with my font, and my life isn't the same unless i get to be orange Trebuchet MS. Please forward any complaints to Steve; seems he won't email you in response, so you can whine to your heart's content and never have any repercussions! Hooray!

Anyway, I have a bit of ground to cover with this post and I've only 31 minutes with which to do it, so this might be a tad garbled. My apologies.

We landed in Sydney, which is a beautiful city containing an Opera House, a Bridge, many Harbours (with a u) and just about the best damn Chinese and Korean food you can find anywhere. For nearly cheap as free compared to every other cuisine around. Which is the reason why, at the time of this writing, we have eaten nothing but Chinese, Korean, Japanese and Vietnamese food since landing in Australia, with the sole exception of a hot dog and meat pie when we had no alternative (and when I wanted a meat pie, which I can finally get here, dammit, and they are tasty). Living on the cheap never tasted so good. Frankly, I found Sydney to have little else. We stayed in Kings Cross, which is "the dodgy part of town" according to our Dutch friend Tim, and other than having a lot of grimy "Gentleman's Clubs" and a few sad little clubs that are not grimy but are kind of sad, there is not too much to be said for it. Entertaining side note: in Empire, a "dodgy" dance club in this lovely area (verily the least sketchy place in town, but nonetheless) Sam disappeared whilst I was in the bathroom, prompting me to wander about aimlessly in search of him. At this time, two large fellows accosted me, and the dialogue went something like this:

"Excuse me, I think you need to leave."
"I'm looking for my friend."
"Oh, skinny kid, looks like you? Is he your brother? I think we threw him out."
"Oh. Ok then."
"So you should go."
"Nah."

At which point I brazenly walked back into the club in search of Sam, who, being not my brother, I assumed was still around somewhere. Nope. He was outside. I promptly found him and we went home. And other than a very interesting market and a huge crocodile in the Sydney aquarium, I don't have a whole lot else to say regarding Sydney. Nice enough place, and very clean, but rather sterile overall. Sam might elucidate.

Hookay, so. This is the Melbourne. Damn, that is a sweet Melbourne, you might say (ROUND!) -- we are here, and are actually about to tour the aptly named Great Ocean Road (aptly because I understand it is a road, along the ocean, that is great). But I am getting ahead of myself. Melbourne! This is undeniably the strangest city I have ever been to in several respects, and I love it. I shall enumerate:

-- Sam and I are here, and we add delightful chaos to anyplace we go, for everyone -- EVERYONE -- believes us to be Canadian. Three different bartenders and a small herd of schoolchildren thought we were from Ottawa or thereabouts. Perhaps we smell funny. We also have spent enough time around non-American Anglo-centric people that we are starting to talk a little oddly, and I think that's part of it. One person insisted we didn't sound enough like Americans to be American. Perhaps when I come home I will truly sound as though I am from Canada, eh?

-- It has a variety of unusual, Bohemian, hip, or downright STRANGE establishments tucked into back alleys. When I say back alley, I'm not referring to "The Train Tracks in Charlottesville" kind of back alley, nor even to the sort of place wherein lies the door to Satellite Ballroom (may it rest in peace). I mean grafitti-covered, alcove-ridden, dark and shadowy places meant only for skulking thieves and discontented malcontents waiting to relieve unwitting small children of their lunch money. Apparently the Aussies think they are also meant for sweet bars. I don't know where they get these ideas, but it is true: a brief foray into Paynes Place, an alley with more brightly colored paint on its walls than the amount of hair gel used by the average Australian male per year (and that is saying something), revealed Croft Alley, at the end of which could be found the Croft Institute. It is a weird, and expensive, but overall excellent nightlife experience. And here I thought we were just going to get mugged, courtesy of my overzealous travel guide.

-- Japanese food is cheap. Where has that ever happened before in the known world? That janx is expensive even in TOKYO.

-- The weather really can't make up its mind. Lots of rain and bright sun in the same day, with associated winds or not-winds. Very bizarre.

-- They serve beer in ten oz. "pots" here, or 15 oz. "schooners," and pints are officially 20 oz. I will never understand this nonsense.

-- FANTA COSTS $3.50. WHAT THE HELL? I DISAGREE WITH THIS.

Anyway, I've run myself out of time, so I shall continue my contribution to our inestimable weblog upon completion of our tour of: THE GREAT OCEAN ROAD!

That is all. Many thanks for reading; I hope you enjoy.