Sydney So Far...Nightlife

It was only as I was putting on the nicest dress I own (whilst backpacking) for the first time, that I realised I’d not been on a proper night out since being away. I’ve been out for cocktails and drinks with friends as well as the odd crazy night in Thailand but those nights only called for beachwear or smart casual. I’ve definitely not had a night out where I can truly dress up and step out of my scraggy backpacker mode and into something slightly more alluring.

Mel felt the same way. Although Mel has a nicer wardrobe and always looks dressier than me, she too hadn’t been on a proper night out in a long time. Just to be clear, a proper night out means dancing. I’ve missed dancing so much. I’m always singing and dancing around like a loon at home but since travelling I’ve not really had the space. The whole not being able to swing a cat around the room saying usually springs to mind with the dorms I stay in. It doesn't tend to be an issue as I see my accommodation as a place to rest rather than a home. But the little things like dancing around when nobody’s watching and singing at the top of my voice are pastimes I rarely get to revel in. So, naturally, I sprung at the chance to have a night out in the city. Let’s see what Sydney has to offer in the entertainment department.

Mel and I spent almost an eternity getting ready. This was partially due to deciding what to wear (more Mel than me as I only have a choice of around two things to wear on a night out!) and my lesson in make-up. I’m a bit apprehensive around make-up. I tend to just not bother or don a little tinted moisturiser and bronzer to brighten my complexion. Mel looked at me as if I’d just said I never brush my teeth. It was makeover time! As we have completely different skin tones, I got away with just wearing my tinted moisturiser and bronzer on my face. Anything heavier and I’d feel like Lily Savage. Mel did my eyes and eyebrows…eyebrows!?! Plucking is as far as I go with eyebrows and even then, sometimes I forget and do a horrified double-take in the mirror one day when I realise my right and left eyebrow are racing each other to the middle.

We had a practise run first which seemed like a good idea at the time. The walk to the shower room was rather funny seen as I had different shades of eye-shadow on each eye as well as one pencilled in eyebrow. Halloween's been and gone!

Once made over, I looked in the mirror and wasn’t really sure what to think. Of course, as friends, all I heard were compliments, but they’re hardly going to turn round and say I look a mess.

I feel like a lady!

Me and Mel are ready to hit the dance floor.

Sidenote: In Sydney, I’ve noticed that when I dress up a little bit and put on a touch of make-up I get shocking reactions. With remarks like, “I hardly recognised you,” “You look completely different,” or just general unnerving stares. It took one guy a few moments to register that it was me when I sat down next to him! I don’t get it. I never get that kind of reaction back home nor did I in any other country on my travels! Maybe I look so bad as a backpacker that when I do tidy myself up I look less like a yeti and more like a human (which is not an exaggeration given the fact that my hair has a mind of its own!). It is a sort of back-handed compliment that I’m not sure how to digest.

Mel, Steff and I joined Dan (AKA Welshie) and Joey (Mel and Steff's former dorm room mate) and descended into Central Sydney via bus. We’d already started the night with drinks. For some reason I thought I liked vodka and coke but it turns out I really didn’t. My system was still rejecting alcohol since Thailand and my stomach started to cramp a little. I ignored the pangs and continued the night as if it was any other. Joey was on energy drinks and was bouncing! I was thankful that he was there as I didn't get on too well with Dan and Mel and Steff will have their coupley-moments so it was refreshing to have someone else to talk to.

Sydney looked rather elegant at night with its tall, brightly lit sky scrapers and litter free streets. The people that lined them were dressed to the nines – all perfect hair, slim figures and natural tans. I didn’t feel intimidated this time as I was wearing a dress.

Dan was our guide but he soon shot away after Steff bitch-slapped his crotch. Apparently that’s a typical action in Lancaster, almost a term of endearment amongst his friends. Dan understandably didn’t get the same feeling and wasn’t best pleased. Steff only retaliated after Dan back-handed his stomach. I’ve already learnt not to play fight with Steff…unless I’m at a safe distance of course. In any other setting, Mel and I would have rolled our eyes in a “Boys will be boys” kind of way, but instead we nagged at Steff to apologise so we can start our night. We came to dance godammit!

It was ok. It wasn’t really a club. It looked more like a hotel lobby converted into a disco area. The DJs were a bit rubbish too. They played the same old set list I could recall song-by-song from uni. Eventually the songs improved and Mel and I had a good boogie. Even Steff got up and busted a move to a couple of songs. When it comes to nights out though, I’m a bit like a child. I need to be kept entertained or I’ll get bored and pout. I wasn’t drunk or even remotely merry so time ticked by a century at a time. The music dipped in and out of brilliant to the utter wank, that I couldn’t keep up. I was like a jack-in-a-box. Of course, when you’re drunk you’d dance to the Teletubbies theme tune if it came on. Being stone cold sober means I have some level of taste.

Family portrait.

Joey love!

Once it reached a time where it wasn’t too early that it would be socially unacceptable to call it a night, we made our way to the bus stop. Dan went off chasing tail as soon as we arrived so we left him to it. I surprisingly knew where I was going and found the bus stop (yes, I’m shocked too!).

Again, if I was drunk I’d be craving cheesy chips and mayonnaise whilst my friends devoured cheesy garlic bread. Instead, I was fine. Mel and Steff on the other hand wanted food and found solace in a nearby pie shop. They had no sweet pies left so I instantly lost interest. I gazed at the other peckish revellers. What goods did they buy to satiate their appetites? There were no greasy kebabs, pizzas or chips. Instead, I saw girls nibbling on muffins and guys eating sandwiches from plastic packaging. What!? This isn’t right? What is wrong with you people? You’re supposed to eat rubbish. You’re drunk, your body craves and it and you probably won’t even remember eating it in the morning. Sheesh. Someone needs to teach them the way.

*****

We decided to give the nightlife another go. It did help that we were given money to go out. Since arriving at the hostel, we’ve been trying to get involved with the events they run there for extra cash. Up until this point, there hadn’t been a gap where other staff members were needed. I was happily carrying out some hermit duties in my room when the manager knocked on the door. He told me about a night out that they had arranged and said he’d give Mel and me the money to go out if we can get as many people as we can to come. Deal!

We only had about half an hour to rally up some people. We did our best.

Not too shabby for a half hour deadline!

The guy next to me is called Max. After this night and for the next 6 weeks or so, Mel and I proceeded to call him Will without correction. Whoops! I even remember joking about his name being short for Maxwell - "like the coffee" - and he had no idea what I was talking about *facepalm* 

It actually turned out to be quite a good night out. We had a good mix of people and the drinks were flowing. We went to a social club for food and a quick drink. We then headed over to Manly which is an area most backpackers base themselves in. There was a new club opening - New Brighton Hotel - which boasted four levels, balcony seating and a rooftop bar (a recurrent theme on my travels). It sounded awesome.

We rocked up thinking we were quite early but the queue for entry was massive. The host from the hostel found friends in the queue and ditched us. In shock, we made our way to the back of the queue. It seemed that queue jumping is quite a popular feat here seen as practically everyone was doing it. Unbelievable. If this was back in the UK, you’d at the very least, receive a verbal beat down. I was ready to start my own but realised I was amongst new friends who didn’t really know me and first impressions are vital.

The queue moved quite swiftly which should have been a sign as to what was going on inside. If it was so spectacular inside, why were so many people leaving at one time. I decided to close a door on my skepticism and see the night through.

Once we were in we headed straight to the bar (of course!). Mel and I had enough money left for one drink but had difficulty in getting served. This opening didn’t seem to be that well organised. There were more bouncers than bar people. Three leather-clad women were left to serve the heaving crowd. Their low-cut tops and tight shorts might sweeten up the fellas but it certainly didn’t make me feel any better for waiting!

In the meantime I tried to take a photo of the bar much to the amusement of Mel who found it ridiculous. I hate being laughed at so gave up. After a few group photos and our long-awaited drink, we decided to head upstairs. We passed one girl gyrating and later dry-humping the side of an open window whilst the guys in the queue outside took photos. The girl and her friends took it in turns posing for the cameras. They weren’t the only posers around. I'd say about 98% of the girls in the place loved themselves. It was cringing. I was surrounded by pouting hair fluffing nutters.

We escaped the egomania and hoped that the other floors had something better to offer. Alas, we had to queue to get to the next floor. Crazy. Suffice it to say, we never made it up to the rooftop bar. I certainly didn’t have the patience! Once we queued to get to the first floor I suggested we keep going and join the next queue. Mel and I joined the queue and looked around for the others. When I turned back again two guys had queue jumped in front of me. Oh no he didn’t! I said a few choice words to these idiots but they were so stupid that nothing I said settled in their tiny little brains. Instead they continued to say the same thing over and over like a child. I can’t even get a decent argument round here, pah!

We ditched the queue and decided to remain on the first floor. Mel and I found a seat and decided to chat for a little bit whilst the others queued for drinks. We joked about the ridiculousness of the people around us. Soon after, Mel decided to go to the bar which left me alone. I couldn’t find the others so made some new friends…

My new giiiiiant friends.

These guys were very friendly and not like the other dicks in the place. How refreshing. I can’t remember their names. Not because I was drunk or anything but because I asked them a few times and couldn’t hear them so just nodded instead to avoid any awkwardness. It’s not like I’d ever see them again!

It seemed the first floor had a dance area. Hooray! We all went over for a dance only to realise there was no DJ, just an empty stand with a CD player. The dance floor was carpeted too which made it a bit awkward to dance on. As I looked around, all the girls were wearing exceedingly high heels. So high that they couldn’t actually dance, just totter about, wiggle their knees and point. In that case, the carpet seemed rather appropriate.

It was on this note that I managed to miss the funniest moment of the night. I had to hear it second hand from Mel but I feel I must still share it with you all. As you may well know already, Sydneysiders do believe that they are the centre of the universe. I have seen it and many others have said the same (Aussies too!). The perfect song came on – LMFAO Sexy And I Know It. This song is a poser's dream! The girls were singing the lyrics and pointing at themselves and the guys were flexing their muscles and doing bicep curls to the beat, “I work out!” What a sight that would have made. I can quite easily picture it in my head. Wow, it’s like these people had the film Zoolander played on repeat from the womb.

Manly was quite a distance from Collaroy so we decided to get the last bus rather than fork out extra for a taxi. This night out did supersede the one in Central Sydney as it was free and there was a better mix of people.

As sad as this may sound, I’ve not had a night out into the city since. I’ve been out for meals and had drinking sessions on the beach but the two nights above were more than enough for me. I’d much prefer to hang out with my friends in a relaxed atmosphere. The one thing I do want to do when I get home is go to as many pubs as possible. I took those for granted as there are so many in York! I’ve not seen any on my travels. There are some places that are called pubs but they’re just themed bars. They’re not the real deal. My advice to anyone that’s going travelling, pub-up while you still can my friends!

Cure For The Blues

Morale was low. It had rained solidly for a week and it showed no signs of backing down (it didn’t back down. The rain continued for another week!). The media kept harping on about how it was Sydney’s worst summer in fifty years. Great! I decided to turn up when the weather was utter shite. “Come January the weather will be much nicer,” was all I kept hearing. It was still November and January felt like a lifetime away.

At this point I had no job and, due to the constant rainfall, had arse all to do but click the refresh button on my emails. Mel was in a similar mood. Although she had a job, Mel yearned for the sun and wanted to explore the beaches and DO something. Unfortunately Mother Nature was against us so we decided to go shopping…again. I couldn’t really afford to buy anything but I thought I’d stick twos up to my budget and treat myself. Steff came along too for a bit of fresh air!

With encouragement from Mel, I bought a bra. A real bra. I was so happy. It’s amazing how something so simple can bring a smile to one’s face. I was already skipping but there was more joy to come. Mel and I walked past a pet shop and saw the cutest puppies. Little pugs and other varieties I couldn’t name. There were two white fluffy kittens too!

Mel and I didn’t even have to say anything to each other; we dived straight into the shop to give these cute little creatures a nice big cuddle. Steff rolled his eyes but I knew deep down that he loved them just as much as we did.

Cute: These guys look like they need a cuddle.

King Charles cutie

Another photo for good measure.

I think Steff was coming round to the puppy idea.

Mel astutely spotted a sign that said shoppers can babysit the pets until they are re-homed, even just for one night. What’s more, it’s free! We didn’t even think about the fact that we were staying in a hostel and left our details. We were told to call and check what’s left in store the next day.

At that time I didn’t think there’d be any puppies left for us. Plus, I would have thought that we wouldn’t get any further with it once the shop found out we were staying in a hostel. Negative on both counts. There was a beautiful King Charles puppy waiting for us and they didn’t bat an eyelid when we handed over our address. In hindsight, that’s pretty worrying but at the time me and Mel couldn’t contain ourselves. We started picking out names and coming up with a master plan on how to sneak our new friend into our room. Steff didn’t object but said that he didn’t want anything to do with it and that he won’t look after it. Mel said he’d change his mind once he saw Buddy.

Operation Buddy
Mission: Sneak our new puppy Buddy in past reception and keep him overnight.
Enemy: Hostel receptionists
Possible obstacles: Fellow residents telling staff, Buddy howling, Buddy appearing before hostel staff
Attack options: Disguise Buddy as a hairy backpacker, sneak him in via the balcony or go Paris Hilton and hide him in Louis Vuitton bag.

Mel and I built it up in our minds but it was a surprisingly easy task. Mel emptied her Louis Vuitton bag contents into another shopping bag. I placed Buddy inside to see what he thought. If he squirmed or yelped then we’d have to come up with a different plan. Buddy prodded his little paws inside the bag and curled up. He seemed to be ok. Mel collapsed his cage and carried it like a shopping basket. I went in first and acted all casual. Thankfully I wasn’t stopped by reception for any reason. I would have cracked for sure. I’m a terrible liar! Mel followed me up some time later. We couldn’t believe it. Now all we needed to do was make sure Buddy was happy and comfortable as not to disturb the other guests. The walls are frighteningly thin.

Buddy turned me into some strange person that spoke a language that was definitely not English. “Oooooyoouusooocutte yeshyouarrrre, yesh yesh!” Oh dear. I couldn’t help it.

"Who's a good boy?"

A few minutes later, Buddy weed on the bed. Not my bed thankfully but still…We didn’t think about whether Buddy was potty trained or not. We had his food and brought him a dish of water but the part that happens after that didn’t even enter our minds. Whoops!

Precautionary measures!

As gorgeous as Buddy was, he didn’t half make a stink in our room! We each took it in turns cuddling him and he was a very good doggy. He didn’t yelp or bark once. He fell in love with Steff which was annoying seen as he didn’t even want him here in the first place! Steff’s heart soon melted and he was enjoying his company just as much as we were.

The evening was difficult as Buddy didn’t like the dark. We all felt terribly guilty and began to question why we brought him back. He goes to a different home each night only to be taken back to the pet shop the next day. He must think that the babysitters don’t like him. It must be so confusing for him.

Sad doggy in the window.

I had work the next morning so only had a brief moment to say goodbye. I was quite sad about that fact until Mel told me that it was much harder for her and Steff to take him back to the store. Mel cried a lot that day which isn’t great as the whole reason behind bringing Buddy back was to have a happy experience!

As much fun as it was, we decided not to do it again. It’s not fair on the puppies and it’s not worth the risk of getting kicked out of the hostel!

Sydney So Far...Hostel Life

I was pretty lucky when I first arrived at the hostel. I’m not sure whether it was because Mel and Steff were on friendly terms with the manager or not but I certainly wasn’t complaining. I had a female only dorm to myself for my first three nights. The girls who checked in after that were quiet, clean and considerate. Perfect.

The same couldn’t be said for Mel and Steff though. As a couple, they have no choice but to stay in a mixed dorm. They’d been moved around a few times and each room seemed to get worse and worse. It was the final straw when they had to share a room with a smelly guy and someone who went to bed ridiculously early and complained when Mel and Steff came in on a night. Mel had no choice in the matter when she finished work late and I felt sorry for her when she had to root around in the dark with only the light from her mobile to guide her. The girl in my room was the opposite as she left the light on for me when I came in late one night. I kindly returned the favour too.

Although my room was weirdo and B.O free, the same couldn’t be said for the other dorms on my floor. The girl’s toilets, sinks and showers were often left in a diabolical state. I felt like I was living with apes! I honestly don’t understand how people can live like this!

People put their shoes and, in this case socks, outside their doors. I guess this is considerate as not to stink the room out. Instead, the odour hovers in the hallway instead. Lovely

This guy didn't have Odour Eaters to hand so thought a tower of cookies might have the same effect. Hmm.

Seeing the dire situations that people were living in didn’t make me warm to any of them. I kept myself to myself. It also didn’t benefit that people were helping themselves to my food in my cupboard and fridge. I’ve had small things taken like cheese, milk and sausages. My flip flops were taken from me too which hurt as they were decent ones I bought on the cheap in Thailand. One cheeky git opened my pack of bread and took one baguette and helped themselves to my cooking oil. My yoghurt was taken too. I think that hurt the most. It was damn good yoghurt and it wasn’t cheap. Thieving bastards. 

My temper was flaring but, before I had chance to plot a poison attack on the next food thief, Mel and Steff had a proposition for me. Their idea was for us all to move into a trio room and push forward our search for a house share or short term apartment lease. We wanted to be out of there before Christmas preferably.

Unfortunately we took to our search in a rather naïve manner. In England you either have furnished or unfurnished housing. In Australia, a furnished rented property is very odd. “Free furniture? Why would you give someone your furniture for free?” This was the general Aussie consensus. Making phone call enquiries resembled the moment in Cool Runnings where Derice tries to get sponsors for the first Jamaican bobsled team. Plenty of laughing and pointing.

We finally thought we’d gotten somewhere when we saw a property being leased for up to three months. Mel and I went to an open viewing and were the only people who showed up. To our wonderment, not only was there no furniture (which we expected), there wasn’t even a flipping fridge! We would have to start from scratch and buy everything. Yes we could buy things off of Gumtree for knock-down rates. We could even go all pikey and scavenge off the discarded items left on the lawns of local residents – a common occurrence where the council shifts any unwanted items away. The Aussies take spring cleaning to a new level! We saw people leave TVs, cupboards and couches. Obviously they’ve not heard of eBay! You certainly wouldn’t get that in England!

Our dreams of snuggling on a couch sipping tea whilst watching a movie on a proper TV were slipping away from us. It dawned on us all that we will be staying in a hostel over Christmas and New Year’s which is what I feared would happen but hoped it wouldn’t!

If that wasn’t enough to bum me out, I was in for a bigger shock. I awoke one day and dragged my sorry ass into the dining area for a change of scenery. I tapped away on my laptop whilst listening to some Kanye West to lift my spirits. One of the hostel workers tried to get my attention. I paused my music and confirmed that my name is Danielle Lee room 30(whatever it was). I was told sternly and without any compromise that I needed to check out and leave the hostel immediately. I was literally told that there were no beds left and that the hostel was fully booked all the way up until 2012. Holy moly.

I objected once but was already embarrassed after I was cornered in front of everyone. I didn’t want to make a scene. I picked up my things and ran over to Mel’s room. Mel was already in a stress about something or other and started chattering away to me not realising that I was sobbing my eyes out. I interrupted Mel and started telling her the story but somehow my words weren’t coming out. I had no job and my soul was depleted from the hermit life I was leading. This was the last thing I needed. I usually let things build up until finally something gets to me and I can’t quite internalise it so all my emotions burst at the seams. Mel comforted me then stormed off to find out what was going on. Mel shouted at the hostel worker who brought me to tears and then stomped down to reception. For added context, Mel was still in her nightie. If I didn’t feel like my whole life had come crashing down, I’d probably find the situation quite funny. Five minutes later, everything was sorted. Technical error. I didn’t get an apology.

A few days after that trauma, I safely settled into our new snug trio room which consisted of a double bed for Mel and Steff and a single bed on top for me. Most people will probably think that that might get a bit awkward but we’ve become like a family as cheesy as that sounds. Mel feels like my big sister as she’s always got a philosophy of some kind when it comes to problems and has had a fruitful life for such a young age. Steff is definitely the younger brother. We’re always scrapping, name-calling and ribbing each other. He can be so excitable and giddy one moment and turn on you the next. Steff likes a good tantrum which can usually be pacified with candy but it’s not always to hand. Instead the poor lad has me and Mel to deal with.

Cosy. We’re certainly not paying for two!

Steff and Mel see me more as a Grandma since learning my age. I’m sure I told them how old I was in Phuket but it was a long-ass drain of a day so it didn’t surprise me that they’d forgotten. Well that was it. They couldn’t stop laughing as they each took it in turns to poke fun at me. Any joke you can think of about old people, they threw it at me. Now it’s a running joke that crops up at the most random of moments. I was sat on a bench at the bus stop once and Mel and Steff were elsewhere nibbling on Subway cookies. Mel burst out laughing and Steff grinned mischievously. “What’s he done now,” I thought as it’s usually something daft he’s said. Instead, the joke was on me as there were two elderly folk sat on the bench both with their hair tied back, both with glasses and both leaning over like me. I fit right in then!

We’re all as bad as each other for ribbing and it’s all in good fun (I think!). It didn’t take us long to get comfortable around each other. Obviously with it being such a small room it makes getting changed rather awkward. Cue hopping-whilst-holding-the-towel-and-simultaneously-hoisting-up-underwear shimmy dance. That got rather tiring and, in each of our lazy dispositions, we grew to either flash our good neighbours across the street or each other. Thankfully there is one part of Steff remaining that I haven’t seen and I do hope it remains that way! Ha!

That is one unlikely perk of having a balcony. We thought we’d use it to chat and chill out but there are more creepy crawlies roaming around on that thing than I can handle. I’ve already had two encounters with fat hairy huntsmen.

Steff heroically sprayed this beast with bug spray and flicked it off the balcony with a dining fork.

Not to mention the cockroaches that zip about. I’ve already burst the eardrum of one friend whom I was speaking to on the phone when one scuttled across my foot. Another evening a possum leapt out of a nearby tree. Mad.

I do often ponder as to where I would be or what I would be doing in Australia if I hadn’t met Mel and Steff. I might have met more people and moved around a bit more or even become a city bod and blend in with all the other suits. I definitely don’t think I would have lasted as long in Sydney without them. There’s enough here to drive me insane but we’ll get to all that soon enough. Despite the odd moan, I am truly happy and still have no regrets so that can’t be bad eh?

Sydney So Far...Work

Top 5 Random Aussie Observations:

1. Certain items of clothing are optional here. Shirt, bra…even shoes. Seeing people walking around with no shoes on made me think of the times when I used to see people shopping in their pyjamas. It’s not banned or anything but it just looks weird.
2. There is no socially acceptable age limit as to when someone can stop using a scooter or skateboard.
3. Australians, like the Americans, have put their own little twist on the English language. Not only do they have weird pronunciations for certain words (get an Aussie to say croissant. I don’t know how I managed to stifle my laughter!*) but have made up words that make no sense. For instance, doona is a duvet.
4. I’m struggling to find Australia’s personality. Everything I see is either very American or very English. I can’t see anything that’s Australian. They even have the same problems as us (in England). Binge drinking, teacher strikes, increase in tuition fees, politician’s expenses scandals…and so on and so forth. Disappointing.
5. Everything seems to shut early. I’ve struggled to get a takeaway after 10pm and most (retail) shops close before 5pm. Nightmare.
   *This might be an observation unique to me. I have a thing about grammar and the English language as a whole. It’s not that I get the urge to correct everything and everyone. That would be silly. I’m not perfect myself! It’s just that certain instances like the incorrect use of a word, mispronunciation or purposeful spelling errors are like finger nails on a chalk board to me *shudders*

I was like Lionel Ritchie - Dancing On The Ceiling – for my first couple of days in Collaroy. I was reunited with my friends Mel and Steff, I had a dorm room to myself as nobody else had checked in, there was free breakfast, a bakery next door sells cake at knock down prices just before it closes, and I was surrounded by beaches. What could possibly go wrong?

Let’s just say my Lionel Ritchie bubble burst and I soon resembled Richard Ashcroft in the Bittersweet Symphony music video. It’s not good when everyone around you annoys the hell out of you and you can’t seem to make it stop!

My first frustrating moment came when looking for a job. I only had one contact, that could have possibly of lead to a job in Sydney, but that fell through straight away. Instead, I had to register with as many agencies as I could find in the hope that someone needed an administrator. What I didn’t realise is that my timing was off. I arrived just before the holiday season so generally temping goes quiet as everyone’s wrapping up for Christmas (no pun intended). Offices have extended holidays with some not opening until the middle of January. Another slow period ensues as offices recover and catch up on lost time. All-in-all, I had no chance of getting an office job. Thing is, I didn’t know this at the time so naively spent several dollars getting buses all over Sydney and registering with agencies that all gave the same chirpy yet non-committal speech about job availability.

I thought I struck gold when I joined an agency which worked with over 40 other recruitment agencies to find jobs for people. They told me that I would only be contacted if jobs were available. Instead I received several phone calls telling me that my CV had been passed to them and whether I wanted to register with them. So that was obviously a waste of time. It’s all I ever seemed to be doing. Filling out the same forms and listening to the same spiele. I have actually lost count at how many agencies I registered with but, to date, I’ve received no phone calls regarding a job and have subsequently had no interviews.

I gave it two weeks of registering, sending off cover letters and emails in response to online job listings and general pestering of friends of friends for job contacts in Australia. None of which actually got me anywhere. The weather reflected my mood and the torrential rain and wind meant that I was stuck indoors. I was surgically attached to my notebook and mobile phone and could usually be found sat eyeballing both devices in the TV room at the hostel. As everyone else who had jobs were out all day, I was surrounded by the stoners and leechers – people who generally did nothing all day. Is this what I have become?

Mel and Steff both had jobs which really put the pressure on me. Mel works as a waitress and Steff picks up labouring jobs that are advertised through the hostel. It’s admirable what they are doing seen as they came to Australia with nothing. Their original plan was to travel in Thailand for an extended period of time but changed their minds part way through and decided to work and live in Australia. Unfortunately they hadn’t quite budgeted for this. Once they paid for their flights, working visas and a rental car upon arrival, their finances had dwindled. But rather than sit around crying about it, they found a way to get by. That’s some act to follow!

In an effort to lift my spirits I went shopping. I know, I’m such a girl! I decided to buy some office wear in the hope that it would spur the hands of fate to follow suit (seriously, pun not intended!). It was then that I casted my eyes on the luxuries that I wanted to purchase once I had an income. The first item on my list was a bra. I have bras of course, but they’re travel ones. They’re actually pretty good but hardly flattering. I feel like I left my femininity back in England. I remember the look a guy gave me back in Japan and his words, “You should really show these things off,” echoed in my mind. I miss my wonderbra and all my pretty clothes and lingerie. Damn my capsule wardrobe!

The second extravagance on my list was a pair of trainers as I seriously needed to start running. My exercise to cake ratio is way off scale. I’m so unfit I practically wheeze just rolling out of bed. Everything’s such an effort. I don’t want to become what I hate the most!

As you can probably tell already, I didn’t end up getting an office job. My dreams of earning big money doing a job I know inside out were crushed. I had to settle for Plan B. Waitressing. Now I wouldn’t say I’m the worst waitress in the world, but it’s not exactly my strong point. In an office environment I can thrive as it often entails being left to your own devices. I may have a growing list of things to do as well as a busy switchboard and mounting emails to contend with, but I manage to not only do my job but (more importantly) keep everyone happy. Waitressing has similar stresses, especially the keeping-everyone-happy part. But rather than being left to my own devices, I have a captive audience in having the customers, manager and fellow waiting staff scrutinising everything I do. This brings out the nerves which in turn transforms me from outgoing, multi-tasking and commonsensical to a bumbling mess. Greeeeeat!

I had no choice though. I needed a job. Waitressing was my next option. Mel gave me some terrific advice about getting a waitressing job.

1. If you decide to drop off your resume/CV in person, make sure you dress like you’re ready to work.
2. If you decide to call and enquire about a job, choose a time that’s late in the evening (between 8pm and 10pm). At this point, the restaurant will either be busy but manageable or just quietening down after a mad-rush. Either way, the manager will know at that point in the day whether they could use more staff. They’ll be more likely to be enthusiastic and might even ask you to come in for a trial the next night.

I’m all about the lists today! I made a list of restaurants and phone numbers in Dee Why and Narrabeen which are two areas close to Collaroy. The first place I called had no vacancies, the second place sounded encouraging and asked me to drop in my CV and the third place said the same but said to come in for an interview. Although this sounded promising already, Mel told me to keep ringing places for back-up options. I called one more restaurant and was asked to come in for a trial the following evening. Awesome.

The “interview” was more of a brief introduction and a trial was arranged for the next morning. My evening trial at the other restaurant was a disaster. I was briefed about the restaurant setup in around 5 minutes. After this time the manager talked to one of the waitresses about her boy problems. I felt really awkward so stood behind the bar twiddling my thumbs. Obviously rule number one in waitressing is to always be doing something. If there is literally nothing to do, then LOOK like you’re doing something! As there were no customers yet I thought I was safe.

I was given three tables to look after. This restaurant works in sections which was what I was used to. Unfortunately, I had no pin for the till so could only take orders. I then had no idea what the other waitresses had done with my tables. I had no idea whether people had ordered drinks, nor did I know what dishes each person was having. This left me in a quandary as I had no idea what cutlery needed handing out and ended up going back on myself by asking people whether they’d like to order something to drink. As it was so busy, all the girls were zipping by doing their own thing. It was very frustrating.

The next fruitless task was serving food but I had no idea what each dish was so that lead to a couple of mistakes. By this point I felt useless. A wise thing to have done would be to either have me shadow someone or put me on running so I could get used to the table numbers and dishes. Instead, I was told to look after 3 tables without a till login and to keep up with the obvious lack of communication in that place. I felt like an idiot and the staff there treated me as such. I left the restaurant and tried to hold it together. I was told I’d receive a call the next day to let me know how I got on. I knew full well I wouldn’t have gotten the job. I didn’t even get a phone call!

I was determined not to be a failure at my next trial. This time round I was coupled with one of the waitresses and she explained everything and I mean everything. There is a rule for every task possible in that place which suited me just fine. Communication was clear and, although there were no sections, there was still a steady flow to proceedings. After just an hour of work, I was told I could have a job. Wahey! The pay isn’t as good as my friend Mel’s and I feel invisible in that place when it comes to making friends but it’s bringing in money and that’s all that matters right now.

Melbourne To Sydney

I contemplated staying in Melbourne as it seemed like a lovely place and the people were friendly. It had nothing to do with the fact that I was staying in the same neighbourhood as Hugh Jackman. I still blush at my reaction to that. I was obviously impressed when Jay told me and my inner monologue went into overdrive. Perhaps we could drive past a few times until he comes out and I’ll just accidentally bump into him. “Oh I’m so sorry Mr Jackman. Are you ok?” *gropes bicep* 

Ahem…sorry about that. Turns out the guys don’t have the precise location of the house where Hugh Jackman lives. Eric Bana also lives in the area. Awesome. I also learnt that former Neighbours star Patrick Harvey, who used to play Connor, lives next door. I wasn’t that impressed and have since learnt that he’s a bit of an idiot (they used another word!). I didn’t see anyone famous which is probably a good thing given the above. I might get arrested!

As my friends Mel and Steff were based in Sydney and I was told that there is more office work there, I decided to move over there instead.

Afraid that I was outstaying my welcome with Jay and Lucas on top of the need for a job, I decided to leave for Sydney the following day on the night train. Yes, another night journey. I’m a glutton for punishment.

The day before, I found out that I could in fact book my ticket online and pick it up at the station, so I decided to have another lie-in. My phone buzzed with a text message but I let it rest for a while. Having felt that I got all the sleep I could possibly manage, I got up and went to book my train ticket. I can’t actually remember the reason why I couldn’t book it online. It might have been the payment options or a problem with my student discount. Either way, I had to go to the station to buy a ticket as I didn’t want to risk turning up before departure only to find that there are no seats left! I suddenly remembered that I received a text message earlier:

Forgot to tell you, the cleaner will be coming over today.

Oh dear. It was already late morning. I best move it! I showered, changed and left without breakfast. The guys had left me a spare key so I could let myself back in which was nice of them. They definitely must not think that I’m a psycho. I also wondered how much money these guys must be on to afford a cleaner. I don’t know anyone back home who has a cleaner!

I was confident that I could find my way back to the station as I did it the previous day. However, it didn’t help that I went the wrong way after exiting the flat. I followed my Google Map instructions and ended up in the arse-end-of-nowhere. I didn’t complain to begin with as it was a beautifully sunny day, the birds were singing…fooling you yet? I was slightly annoyed with myself and I was hungry. Not a good combination. I looked intensely at my map for a while. I turned it to the right, then to the left. It made no difference. Oh why do I have to be so bloody useless at getting around?

As I walked in a direction that could have brought me closer or further away from my intended destination, a lycra-clad cyclist stopped and asked me if I needed any help. This guy was so friendly and really helpful. He plucked out his iphone and searched for directions to the station. He figured out the shortest route and explained where I needed to go. This took me back to my days in Japan. Random acts of kindness from complete strangers. I felt a lot better.

I cut through a scenic park and then looked around in confusion. None of the roads were signposted. Great. Cue pacing around, speaking to another stranger and eventually I made it to the station. Phew!

It was a good job that I paid for the ticket in person rather than online as I went to the wrong counter the previous day. The correct counter was located on the opposite side of the station. I would not have been happy having to lug the beast round if that happened!

Sorted, finally! I went back to the flat and was in the middle of packing the beast when Jay came back. When he asked how my day went, I skipped the part where I got lost AGAIN (!) and casually said I’d just nipped out to buy my train ticket. With the beast packed and resting, I sat back and too relaxed until my impending night train.

*****

The night train proved uneventful. The seats were spacious and I wasn’t sat near any annoying/weird/loud people so all was good. The main annoyance was that the lights went out at 10pm…10pm!!! It turned out to be the most boring night journey ever. I couldn’t do anything except sit there and try to go to sleep. I listened to a lot of music and drifted in and out of sleep. After what seemed like an actual lifetime, I arrived in Sydney. The all too familiar numbing pain in the arse welcomed me like an old friend. The dazed and confused feeling that you get after being disturbed mid-sleep was witnessed by the morning commuters rather than my alarm clock. Why do I do this to myself?

The internet, in all its wisdom, told me to get a train and a bus up to Collaroy where my friends were. Thankfully a kind staff member at the train ticket desk informed me that there is a direct bus to Collaroy. He gave me the bus number and told me where to buy a ticket. Awesome.

It was a good job I spoke to him as all buses from Sydney city only accept pre-paid tickets during the day and won’t allow anyone to purchase a ticket on the bus. Quite a few people made the mistake of trying. Damn, Sydney bus drivers are grumpy. Glad I didn’t feel their wrath today. They must have let me off, it being my first day and all.

The bus driver kindly shouted me when my bus stop arrived. I got off and was footsteps away from the hostel. Now that’s more like it! Mel had already booked me a room, I just needed to pay. Once I settled in my room and got my bearings, we went to the beach for a while. Again, this was also footsteps away. Across the road was the beach and to my left and right were shops, takeaways, restaurants and a post office. There’s even a bar over the road. Everything seemed perfect (emphasis on the seemed!). Eight weeks later and I’m still here and currently counting down the days when I can get out!!

A Thank You Note To Kim Kardashian

Jay and Lucas both had early starts. I heard them leave the next morning, but decided to keep on sleeping in the hope that I’d feel better after a proper rest. They generously said I could help myself to breakfast and use their internet to book my train ticket to Sydney.

With the place empty, I decided to stay in my pyjamas and take advantage of the free internet. Time slipped away from me again. I wasted a good few hours stressing about how big Sydney is and whether I could purchase my train ticket on the internet. Without a printer, I would have no ticket to hand over and no proof of purchase. All this faffing was interspersed with blushes when Lucas returned more than once and I was still seated by the laptop and still in my pyjamas. Oh dear.

Fearing that I looked like a hermit as well as the fact that I was wasting my day stressing about nothing, I decided to shower and venture out to explore Melbourne. My stomach growled with displeasure as I was about to leave. Fearing the effects of the ridiculous Australian prices on my wallet (i.e. Because I’m a tight arse), I grabbed some cereal. However, what I thought was Weetabix (a familiar cereal back home), turned out to be something a lot stranger.

Impostor: Everything seems to be compared to the iphone these days, why not this?

What I thought was Weetabix was in fact Weetbix. Some weird shrunken rectangular wheat biscuit that was more flaky than a Weetabix. I felt like I was in Alice In Wonderland where everything is all backwards. I thought it was just a random encounter and that everything else would be pretty much the same (it wasn’t and things aren’t the same but we’ll get to that when I do my first supermarket shop in Sydney!).

Thanks to Google Maps, I managed to find my way back to Elsternwick station and arrived in Central Melbourne with ease. I wanted to visit Federation Square and flake out in the Botanic Gardens located further south. It was a beautiful day so I decided to have a little stroll before settling down for something to eat.

The architecture of the surrounding buildings in Fed Square was crazy.

I liked the juxtaposition of the old with the new.

There were plenty of sitting-in-the-sun opportunities here and everyone seemed to be taking advantage.

They even have deck chairs here. My derriere was reunited with one of these later. 

Despite the modern exterior, there was still a bohemian undertone to Fed Square...

...man I've never wished so hard that I could play the piano. 

One massive burger and chips later and I was revitalised and ready for more exploring.

By this point it was rather late in the afternoon and places seemed to be shutting so I didn’t visit any of the nearby galleries or museums. I went for a walk by the river and saw these two guys.

Not only did I think feeding seagulls was bizarre, but they used a full bag of chips to do so!

It was so annoying that I didn’t capture the photo that I wanted to. One of the guys kept holding up chips and a seagull would swoop down, hover and pluck if from their fingers. It was a surreal sight and a sight that unfortunately never occurred again when my camera was poised. After 10 minutes of banter with the tourists I decided to call it a day and move on. As I walked away, the seagull did it again. Why I oughta…!

I carried on walking and passed a series of runners, cyclists and rowers. Everyone seems to be very fit and active. I felt so at home but at the same time, so out of place. After choosing hiking boots over trainers for my trip, I’ve not been able to go out for a run since being away. It’s a minor regret but not something that keeps me up at night. A pair of trainers is on the list of things I want to buy with my first wage in Sydney. Amongst the active-bods that surrounded me I saw something I thought was pretty awesome and tried to stealthily take some shots.

This guy knew his way around a mountain bike! I watched in awe has he rolled out several stunts over the rocks with no fear.

I certainly don’t get to see this at home! So far I was impressed with Melbourne. There was a lot to see and the surrounding atmosphere felt very relaxed which put me at ease. So much so that I got a bit lost trying to find the Botanic Gardens. Whilst I thought I was going further south, it turned out I was actually going further east. How I managed to go sideways rather than down I don’t know. It felt like I was going the right way!

Instead of visiting the Botanic Gardens (by the time I realised I was going in the wrong direction it was sunset. I was tired and it was cold), I went over a bridge that sang to me and saw the mighty MCG stadium.

It all started with a scenic walk by the river.

I saw the weird...

...and the wonderful (MCG). I actually found this by accident but ssshhh, don't tell anyone!

The start of the William Barak bridge which conveniently connects the MCG and other entertainment venues with the central business district (CBD).

Proximities.

I was disappointed to find that this nearby bridge did not sing to me.

However, my spirits lifted when I saw this. Ha! I tried in vain to find Robin Avenue to no avail.

Watching the sun set over Melbourne’s city skyline was beautiful. It was at this point that I decided to head back. What I didn’t realise was how dark it would get in such a short amount of time. By the time I reached Elsternwick it was pitch black and the streets weren’t very well lit. If you don’t know by now, I can’t navigate myself in the dark. Well ok, I can’t navigate ordinarily anyway but the absence of light means I don’t recognise anything and I can’t see the road signs. Ergo, I’m screwed.

Still, I enjoyed the view of Melbourne's skyline

The first signs of the sun setting.

In a fruitless attempt to distract myself from the whole getting-lost-on-my-way-back-to-the-flat, I stopped by the shop next to the station. I took my time selecting a drink and I circled the store a few times looking for inspiration of the sweet kind. Then I saw them. The Tim Tams. I first heard about Tim Tams during my stay with the De Souza family in Kuala Lumpur. I was watching re-runs of Keeping Up With The Kardashians on E! as there was nothing else to watch (or do at that moment in time). It was surprisingly entertaining as I had no idea who these people were and what they were doing. I felt like a granny pointing at the telly proclaiming, “Who’s this young whipper-snapper? In my day…” Well that wasn’t quite what I said. It was more like, “Who are these people? What is the point of the Kardashians?” But I felt like a granny for saying that. My question was soon answered. Kim Kardashian likes Tim Tams and received a box load from this guy who likes her (some Aussie bodyguard). What then ensued was a conversation about Tim Tams in which I discover that they just happen to be the most awesome confection that’s known to man. Those are strong words. Coming from someone who just happens to have eaten pretty much all confections known to man, I must see for myself!

….and that I did ladies and gentleman. For the Tim Tam IS the greatest confection known to man. Thank you Kim Kardashian as, if it wasn’t for you wanting to stuff your face with a box of Tim Tams, I would never have known about them. Nobody else since has told me about the Tim Tam. To think, I could have experienced Australia without tasting Tim Tams. To the Brits out there, it’s basically a step up from a Penguin. It’s thicker, tastier and has a lot more varieties. I must admit, the Penguin does have those cute little jokes on the wrapper which is difficult to beat. But the Tim Tam…*dribbles*

Ok, back to the story. With drink and Tim Tams in tow, I set about finding my way “home”. I read my Google Map instructions backwards and it actually bloody worked…well sort of. I got about two streets away and then had no idea where I was.

Praise Kim Kardashian for iphones…no wait, that’s not right…anyway. It’s a good thing that everyone in Australia seems to have an iphone with Google Maps on and doesn’t mind a mildly distressed stranger pestering them for directions. A young teenager put me back on track.

I made it! Well…sort of. I made it to the street and then forgot the house number. Oh bums. I paced up and down the street in the hope that one of the buildings would look familiar. They were all identical. As I stood and contemplated whether I had any other option but to text Jay for help, a black cat brushed up against my leg. I jumped out of my skin but somehow managed not to scream my head off. Instead, I jumped to one side and almost karate chopped this poor moggy. Having realised that the potential psycho mugger was in fact a household pet, I mumbled a few expletives and looked over each shoulder to make sure that nobody witnessed my foolishness. Speaking of, I text Jay for help. He waved at me from the balcony and I walked up knowing that I was about to get the piss ripped out of me.

Not to worry, I had a Tim Tam and all was forgotten. What a day…

Aussie Aussie Aussie!

If you wait to do everything until you're sure it's right, you'll probably never do much of anything. Win Borden

...a quote which I should have read and acknowledged years ago. I am a perfectionist. This means that I work hard no matter how big or small the job in question is. I strive to make sure that I perform to the best of my ability and ensure that everything runs smoothly. This sounds perfect in a job interview, but in life, it's a pain in the arse. It means I'm never happy. I feel that I can always do better and, if there is something which I can't do (an obvious inevitability), then I torture myself for it. This is why this quote really struck a chord with me. If I hang around and weigh up my options, try and figure out a safe route in life or generally "play it safe" by sticking to a career I can comfortably be accomplished in, then I won't end up doing anything. Or be it, I won't end up doing anything EXCITING! I'm choosing to grab life by the balls and see what happens.

I thought I'd start off my first Aussie blog with a sweeping statement. I frequently get asked, “What are you going to do when you get back?” Saying, "I don't know" draws gasps. You don't have a plan? You're not going to have any money or a job when you get back? That is correct. I worked my arse off solidly for over 8 months so I could travel the world. The last thing I'm going to do is come back with more than loose change. I want to spend the lot baby! My roommates and I are on a different planet as one's just bought an Apple MacBook Pro and the other a Dell laptop but we'll get to that another day!

*****

I arrived in Melbourne with mixed thoughts. I don't really know much about the true Australia. I can't judge Australia on what I've seen on the TV - imagine if people judged England from what they see on American TV! I don't know any Australians either. I also got so wrapped up in researching Japan that I didn't really put much thought into my Australian leg. Backpackers flock here so it can't be that hard. I met a girl who travelled and worked in Australia and she arrived with only a couple of hundred pounds to her name. If that girl can do it, why can't I? Obviously I’d prefer it not to be a struggle but when is life ever easy?

With an open mind, I entered Australia and wondered what delights awaited me. Melbourne Airport was a very strange affair. I already looked like a drunken zombie thanks to my blocked-sinuses-ordeal (see previous entry) and then I saw this a sign stating that customs and immigration was being televised.

I flinched at first but then relished the thought of feigning a fuss of some kind. I pictured myself being dragged away by security screaming, “You can’t do this to meeeee!” Alas, my imagination had spun into overdrive and it wasn’t anywhere near as exciting as I thought it would be. Security weren’t bothered that I had mud from Mount Fuji still on my hiking boots and my medical supplies weren't worthy of confiscation. Dammit.

Moving forward, I noticed that Melbourne Airport was nothing like Singapore Airport. There was no butterfly garden let’s put it that way! There wasn’t much of anything. I couldn’t even get bloody wifi. What kind of country is this? I exchanged some money only to realise that I was charged a fee for doing so. So no wifi and now you’re stealing my money. Hmm, Australia you are not doing so well on the first impressions!

The helpdesk was no err help. The woman told me to go to the other side of the airport as there’s wifi there. There is no wifi on the other side of the airport. Hmph. Defeated, I boarded the Skybus to the city centre in search of food and wifi. Along the way I had to squint hard a few times until I realised that it wasn’t my eyesight that was the problem. Yes, everyone around me seemed to be ridiculously good looking. This realisation came to a head when I sat down for a rest outside Melbourne metro station. Picture the “Girl in the red dress” scene in The Matrix. Everything slowed down and amongst all the suits this svelte perfectly tanned girl of around the same age as me breezed past. She had long blonde hair and was wearing a beautiful dress and coordinating sandals. I think my jaw actually dropped upon this sight. I wanted to be her. Just like that. What shocked me further was that nobody batted an eyelid. Nobody dropped their sandwich or spilled their coffee in their agog state. It was like this girl was normal, just like everyone else. Well shit on me, I’m screwed. I’m wearing a grease-stained top and scraggy shorts. The Beast had drawn all the sweat from my body, the remains settling uncomfortably on my back and face. Sexy. I wanted to run and hide for all of 30 seconds. I then snapped out of it and carried on as usual. I only worry about my appearance when I’m out to impress someone. Well that aint happening anytime soon! Wait…I’m about to meet two strangers and sleep on their couch for the next couple of days. Hmm. Let’s hope they embrace the hobo look.

I had around three hours to kill before I had to worry about that. I needed a travel adapter and wifi access. I thought the best idea would be to stay close to the station. Drifting too far away will only end in disaster – a lesson learnt a long time ago!

After trudging around for a bit, I managed to find both…not in the same place of course. Navigating my way around Melbourne at this point wasn’t too bad. The place felt familiar. Not like in a de ja vu way but there seemed to be almost a British air to the place. Obviously I’m in an English speaking country but there was that city air that felt a lot like home. People in suits rushing around, business meetings in cafes, guys in slouchy clothing draped over the nearest propping device…all too familiar. The only way that I knew I hadn’t flown back to the UK was the sun beaming down on me. That is definitely not England. Not typically anyway. It was a welcome relief after the continued rainfall I experienced in Singapore.

I decided to take up temporary residence at a cute little café. Cute but flippin’ expensive! I purchased the cheapest thing I could find – a cookie and a can of coke (I don’t even like coke so I have no idea why I bought that. It must be the shock!). This came to $6 which is around 4 British pounds. That’s madness. I hoped that wasn’t a sign of things to come (this was a sign of things to come).

I nibbled at my cookie to make it last long enough so I wouldn’t have to buy something else whilst using their wifi.

*****

The time had come for me to make my way towards the potential axe murderers that I’d be bunking with. That was an arse in itself. Now back home, the screen that displays the platform numbers and coordinating trains actually reflects the platforms and trains that are contained in the station. Well…99% of the time. For some reason this didn’t happen as I soon found out when I nearly boarded the wrong train. I also found out on my second day that you’re supposed to validate your train ticket before you get on or you’ll be facing a hefty on-the-spot fine. Sheesh. This kind of stuff should be written down somewhere before you enter the country. Unless Aussies do it on purpose to perplex foreigners. That does sound plausible in hindsight.

I eventually made it to where I needed to be - Elsternwick. I found the nearest bench and fell asleep. I awoke to what started off as a faint whispering of my name. I then realised that my prospective tenants had pulled up in their car and was calling out to me. Shit! Ok, act normal. They’re probably gauging whether I’m a psycho or not.

Dazed and confused doesn’t even begin to describe the state that I was in. My new house friends – Jay and Lucas – were trying to strike up conversation with me in the car and I had no idea what was going on. I was beat. I got what I interpreted as looks of empathy. I was staying with former backpackers so I’m sure they too have been there and done that.

Jay and Lucas were awesome. We ordered Thai takeout which was lovely and plentiful. I ate like I hadn’t eaten for days. Neither guy judged me for it. Lucas bought me a can of Sprite which I was going to skip out on as the cost wasn’t worth it for me. I thanked him profusely and he laughed at me. That happened a lot that night as it turns out, I don’t speak English. I travelled all this way expecting to visit an English speaking country only to find that I’m in a place full of crazy speaking people. I don’t know what language Aussies are speaking but it isn’t English. However, I’ve been told that it is I who cannot understand nor speak English. Not an aired observation by Jay or Lucas I hasten to add.

It was funny whilst I was with Jay and Lucas. Certain words stood out for me – rice is roy-ce, hostel is – hoss-tell and The Strokes sounded like something I can’t even write phonetically. It was just a noise. It was funny as I waffled on like I normally do (the Thai curry injected some life into me by this point) yet I could tell that, for the most part, Jay had no idea what I was going on about…and vice versa! We still had some good banter interspersed amongst the confusion.

At this point I think we all breathed a sigh of relief. There’s no dungeon here…or an axe for that matter! I hoped that the guys also realised that I’m not a crazy person. Well…crazy as in I’m going to run off with your laptop and fridge contents crazy.

Jay and I moved the gigantic mattress (how big did they think I was…they must know about the cake!!) from behind the couch and I even got a blanket and pillow. I got laughed at again due to my excited nature at seeing a proper mattress. It’s like gold dust in dorms these days! Jay asked me to turn off the TV and light when I’m ready to sleep. As soon as he said those words I was out. I woke up in the early hours and embarrassingly realised that I didn’t turn off the TV or light and I was still in my scraggy shorts and grease stained top. Whoops.