And here it is – the finale. The moment the curtain is drawn. The point where all stories eventually end up. Except for the bad ones. They seem to go on and on and on. Just like “The Young & Restless”.
This trip was undoubtedly well placed – it reignited by desire and taste for traveling, as well as being a practice round for when I go to Japan/Vietnam. Yet, by the third day, I had felt quite lazy and in all honesty I was running out of places to visit. Combined with the fact that I had checked out and I was having my entire bag with me (which wasn’t all that light), it meant I was in little mood of walking much.
I ended up at Circular Quay, in a failed attempt to sit at Sydney Cafe and enjoy the view – as it was all “full for lunch”. Wankers. So I wrote my postcards, I bought a cold drink and thought of what I should do until my flight (which was about 6PM).
No, the Opera House is being crushed! Ahem. So I decided to go to Manly Beach! (oh the amusement that name created in my tiny insane brain). I had heard that it was a great way to see the harbor, if not for the beach itself. Que hundred of pictures of the Opera House as the boat drove (drove? sailed…) by.
However, as an Avatar of Mercy as I am, I will only post one picture (now, if it were monkeys instead, I’d just flood this post with pics).
The boat trip was uneventful – however! Towards the end part of the journey, there were some waves so the boat started shifting to one side of it quite a lot. Having had seen countless movies recently about capsizing boats – such as Life of Pi – I was already thinking how to save my camera from drowning.
I was already imagining Manly Beach awaiting me with naked Greek Gods, all tanned and bouncing ping pong balls off their chests. No Greek anything, to be quite honest, but there were so many jellyfishies! Swimming with their little jellyfishy bodies – you just wanted to grab one, and call it Squishy, and call it your own. It shall be my Squishy (No, I am not insane, I am making a pop culture reference to Finding Nemo).
Certainly, it was rather amusing that everything was called “Manly” something. I could indeed smell all the testosterone in the air. That and hunger (For food, all you pervy friends of mine stop thinking of something else). So I pranced around a bit, then settled down in a little Thai restaurant that looked quite tasty right in the pier.
A rather bland last post, I must admit, but I am rather tired as per usual and simply annoyed with the multitude of incompetence surrounding me in my own home. Sydney was enjoyable tho, with it’s rushed, modern attitude. With it’s galleries and parks and circus acts. With me in it, obviously much more fun.
This is part of a three days series of me mucking about in Sydney: