Having trouble uploading photos. It's your loss, really, as you won't be able to use a photo of me in front of the sydney opera house, me at Bondi Beach or me in front of the Hyde Barracks as your wallpaper.
My default tech solution of slamming my computer repeatedly on the desk appears ineffective.
Monday, August 4, 2008
Maybe mussels?!
Sydney. A great latte and we were off, wandering around the Royal Botanical Gardens. We noticed that many of the “townies” were dressed in goretex coats with wool gloves and hats. Apparently, anything below 60 degrees is cause for bitter complaining. While Amy was in the gift shop, I happened to look up and saw a remarkable sight. Thousands of bats, each about the size of a bulldog with a wingspan of 3’, were hanging from tree branches. Occasionally, a bat would launch itself unsteadily from its branch, causing nearby bats to screech unhappily. It was a little bit like a Bram Stoker and Hitchcock matinee (Amy’s worst nightmare is a flying rat). All things considered, she handled it pretty well and with minimal screaming. We were later informed that there are estimated to be 20,000 bats.
The Sydney Opera house was remarkable. Depending on your perspective, it either mirrors the sails of the boats on the harbor, glowing softly in the evening, or looks a bit like horseshoe crabs doing headstands. Sydneysiders tend not to be impressed with the latter perspective.
We bought tickets for a modern dress version of Don Giovanni – our seats were the equivalent of the Everest death zone but we were upgraded by about seven rows just before performance. Purists might scoff at the modern dress but Giovanni’s asocial ways were reflected perfectly by his ghetto hat cocked right. I thought the dance remix was a bit over the top but Snoop Dogg’s surprise cameo as himself brought some levity to an otherwise downer of an ending.
Worst meal thus far was entirely my fault but hey, lessons learned … a) when considering a Korean Fusion restaurant, you should ask yourself “fused with what?!” b) when your wife turns to you in a worried tone of voice and says “Squid? Are you sure?” you should under no circumstances shrug and say “Definitely! Yes.” c) If you decide to ignore your wife, you should be very attentive to the description of the seafood with noodles and be worried when the waiter says “squid, prawn … and maybe mussels.” MAYBE mussels? d) You should make every attempt to avoid looking at your seafood soup with noodles and being reminded of the violent end of 10,000 Leagues Under the Sea despite the fact that the squid tentacles are bobbing in a lifelike way every time your wife shakes the table; e) Cass beer, a tasty rendition of Miller Lite, does not take the bite out of the squid broth.
For the record, I intended to eat the entire meal. However, I was unprepared for the entire squid to be in the bowl. My wife’s expression did not help matters. If disgust is a continuum, she was in a different dimension. I managed to eat about an inch of the broth and noodles before deciding that I didn’t care that much about US-Korean relations.
The Sydney Opera house was remarkable. Depending on your perspective, it either mirrors the sails of the boats on the harbor, glowing softly in the evening, or looks a bit like horseshoe crabs doing headstands. Sydneysiders tend not to be impressed with the latter perspective.
We bought tickets for a modern dress version of Don Giovanni – our seats were the equivalent of the Everest death zone but we were upgraded by about seven rows just before performance. Purists might scoff at the modern dress but Giovanni’s asocial ways were reflected perfectly by his ghetto hat cocked right. I thought the dance remix was a bit over the top but Snoop Dogg’s surprise cameo as himself brought some levity to an otherwise downer of an ending.
Worst meal thus far was entirely my fault but hey, lessons learned … a) when considering a Korean Fusion restaurant, you should ask yourself “fused with what?!” b) when your wife turns to you in a worried tone of voice and says “Squid? Are you sure?” you should under no circumstances shrug and say “Definitely! Yes.” c) If you decide to ignore your wife, you should be very attentive to the description of the seafood with noodles and be worried when the waiter says “squid, prawn … and maybe mussels.” MAYBE mussels? d) You should make every attempt to avoid looking at your seafood soup with noodles and being reminded of the violent end of 10,000 Leagues Under the Sea despite the fact that the squid tentacles are bobbing in a lifelike way every time your wife shakes the table; e) Cass beer, a tasty rendition of Miller Lite, does not take the bite out of the squid broth.
For the record, I intended to eat the entire meal. However, I was unprepared for the entire squid to be in the bowl. My wife’s expression did not help matters. If disgust is a continuum, she was in a different dimension. I managed to eat about an inch of the broth and noodles before deciding that I didn’t care that much about US-Korean relations.
The first 31 ... er 37 hours
Sitting on the bus from Portland to Boston, I realized I simply would not be able to make the 31 hour trip to Sydney readable. This wasn’t self-deprecation so much as a recognition that sitting next to the same person in small metal tubes traveling at high velocities for long periods of time is brutal no matter who you are. Even the Dali Llama would end up flogging Jerry Seinfeld with his sandals for one too many “observations.”
Our trip started out well enough. National Treasure (ironically named) was shown on the bus and I accidentally discovered that if you watch the movie without sound a) Nicholas Cage doesn’t look like a bad actor, b) it is mildly interesting to watch the actors try to solve inscrutable puzzles like opening a secret desk, and c) you can pretend that it was written by the Coen brothers. Listening to even 15 seconds of dialogue completely ruins these perceptions.
Ticketing and security took about 20 minutes. Then the problems started – 3 hour delay in Boston (2 hours on the tarmac) making us an hour late for our flight to Sydney (which luckily was hours late as well – how many times have you been able to say that!). Unfortunately, mechanical problems on the plane to Sydney caused a 3 hour delay (if you own Qantas stock – SELL). Finally seated on our flight, we were fully prepared to “enjoy” our 14 hour flight, complimentary alcoholic beverage of our choice, and Tylenol PM.
A few other things useful to know; Tylenol PM is not the equivalent of Ambien; vegetarian meals are served first; Fargo is good even after 35 hours of traveling; you should never point out to the person sitting next to you that you don’t have 2 hours left ... you have 8; if you watch Cloverfield during extreme turbulence you can make out what the actors are doing, and middle seats should be reserved for convicts of the most horrible crimes and airline execs.
We landed in Sydney and ran to the bathroom to see if the drain drains backward. Then we went to Wagamama.
Our trip started out well enough. National Treasure (ironically named) was shown on the bus and I accidentally discovered that if you watch the movie without sound a) Nicholas Cage doesn’t look like a bad actor, b) it is mildly interesting to watch the actors try to solve inscrutable puzzles like opening a secret desk, and c) you can pretend that it was written by the Coen brothers. Listening to even 15 seconds of dialogue completely ruins these perceptions.
Ticketing and security took about 20 minutes. Then the problems started – 3 hour delay in Boston (2 hours on the tarmac) making us an hour late for our flight to Sydney (which luckily was hours late as well – how many times have you been able to say that!). Unfortunately, mechanical problems on the plane to Sydney caused a 3 hour delay (if you own Qantas stock – SELL). Finally seated on our flight, we were fully prepared to “enjoy” our 14 hour flight, complimentary alcoholic beverage of our choice, and Tylenol PM.
A few other things useful to know; Tylenol PM is not the equivalent of Ambien; vegetarian meals are served first; Fargo is good even after 35 hours of traveling; you should never point out to the person sitting next to you that you don’t have 2 hours left ... you have 8; if you watch Cloverfield during extreme turbulence you can make out what the actors are doing, and middle seats should be reserved for convicts of the most horrible crimes and airline execs.
We landed in Sydney and ran to the bathroom to see if the drain drains backward. Then we went to Wagamama.
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