I'm sorry Sydney but I'm not so crazy about you

DAY 18 - 

Hello again, my darlings! :) Got together with Carolyn, after our plan to both be on coach #1 on the train for ease of finding one another - see, I can be a smarty :) How nice to have found a new mate through our mutual liking of Neighbours. The day began brill but slowly went downhill due to the terror weather which now seems standard in Sydney (of course they're not going to advertise this) which oft took its toll on my spirits. We did not sign up for pooey meteorological conditions on our holibubbles :( 

Bondi beach is too big for its britches and was our highly hyped up destination. After spending some time there, I can honestly say I have no clue what all the commotion is over. Not even taking into account the murky waters or the dull, gloomy grey day it is NOWT SPESH and more puny than I expected from seeing it on TV. There are 500+ more sublime beaches strewn around the globe than that of Scum Valley but I did paddle in the nippy waves all the same. 

Another extreme disappointment: there was not one single, hunky lifeguard to peer on only older David Hasselhoff wannabes. That makes me mad as I had thought such eye candy was customary in Oz. :P

Sweetness is my WEAKNESS: More yumminess was added to my bumminess when we were seJUICED at Bondi; with my new favourite drink, a Nutella milkshake. Gosh grief, all sips were worth EVERY friggin' calorie and love handle.

The *BEST* part of the entire day: Taking on the pretty, scenic, coastal Bondi-Coogee Walk (well 3.5km of it) along the beaches. Just before reaching Tanarama beach, we spent a good 30 minutes dolphin gazing, upon the rocks by the bay. In a pod of approx 20, the cetacean mammals teased and delighted; twisting and turning in air. Their aerodynamic acrobatics defy gravity and astonish jaws of all onlookers; what a wonderful surprise! Nobody could tear me away as they swam through the swell right beside surfers, not even wild horses. You'd have to be cold and dead inside for the extravaganza not to make you a Happy Holly :) 

BOGEY hole cafe was our PICK for lunching because how can you NOT eat somewhere with a name that minging?!! The crusty bread  of my veggie, lentil burger with avocado and all the trimmings, was so out of this world I ripped it apart like a croco. We stopped upon reaching Bronte and turned back as the sun wasn't cooperating. The clouds and his idiot buddies - wind and raindrops were looming. 

I smile, in spite of it turning even grimmer on the ferry across the harbour waters to Manly. Shark nets sheathed its seaside here - SHRIEKKKKKKKKKK; you wouldn't catch me in there swimming no sirree, yet kids were wading. Tourist infomation gave us 1/2 price tickets to Manly Sealife Sanctuary and just as well as it was closing within 40 minutes. It had the same old to SEA (fun pun!!) but gave us an activity on an atrocious afternoon. 

The high speed cruising of sharks a-plenty in the tanks while I dangled beneath them as live, fleshy bait filled me with a sense of anguished trepidation. Incredibly my mood switched from crappy to happy, upon marveling at adorable Little Penguins :) :) :) The cheeky sweeties, loudest of all penguin species, playing and honking away was hard to leave but the sanctuary was closing. Aww the darlins' just make my heart sing <3 

To satisfy our carby cravings, Caroline (my hostel cohort) came out with me to get some pasta action. We found magic in A Tavola; a swanky, intimate Italian restaurant where all partakers were seated around one long table. If only I had something of a love life to speak of, I could have come with a handsome beau alongside the couples on their romantic dates, surrounding us. My rigatone ragu was WORLD class, so fresh and flavourful; all the dishes were so intensely italiano it made me yearn for Rome. 

I took a wee shine to 5 Boroughs cafe/bar in Kings Cross; jazz music exudes and the barmen come bearing liquid felicity. I rather lurveeeeeeeed the Mexican cocktail maker, who was swoonier than George swoony Clooney and astonished us with his flair for drink mixing. As I'm not a drinker of alcohol, Mr Lover Lover specially concocted 2x purpley, berry mocktails for me. The fruity thirst quenchers were kickin' but too cold and bitty for my teethypegs but I could have still given him my undying love, there and then :D

Sadly, I saw the seedy notoriety of this district while peoplewatching through the window seat as a desperate, older pregnant lady roamed the streets begging ANY man who walked past, for sex. She'd not made an effort as she was working a shaggy dog look - dirty, stained clothing, unbrushed hair..a mess of a woman. I'm not telling you this to pass judgment or condemn her actions of depraved despair but because it distressed me to wonder what had happened for this to become of her.. Who or what has eviscerated her heart so wholly that she has slid down a miserable, degrading path? :( 

DAY 19 - 

A golden summer came forth with piping hot temperatures of 32 degrees but this maketh me pull up my cranky undercrackers!! Caroline and I hung out during the day; it got toasty as we meandered past Wooloomolloo Wharf, already glistening with beads of sweat, when we reached the glorious Royal Botanical Gardens. Childishly we: complained of sweltering heat, capered with cockatoos and enthusiastically disclosed our innermost, secret wishes to the grand, ol' wishing tree.  The process of which had us looking like stupid fools as you must - walk in circles clockwise around the tree 3 times and then 3 anti-clockwise. I forced two unsuspecting fellow tourists to join in with the fun exercise of the wishing variety:D

Revivifying raspberry lemonade and a slice of berry cake at Garden Cafe, did the trick for sustenance and an energy refuel. Despite having hundreds already, I felt it a necessity to take several snapshots on the steps of The Opera House. There was some Politician clown 'Baird' there with his security; going about his election crusade by getting press shots by his campaign bus. 

The Man O'War steps were not exciting in the least; it is a jetty by the Opera House beside a minuscule portion of FILTHY beach ------> literally the ugliest beach I've ever seen. Our Sydney strollings, took us through The Rocks and Nurse Walk (which once used to be their quarters, way back yonder) - two historical areas within the CBD that I do find appealing. The pedestrian entrance to THE Bridge was a riddle we could not solve and so searched tirelessly to no avail. Just when I was plum out of patience because the map was useless, we came across it and instantaneously my panicky flips in my stomach, kicked in. 

THE THRILL OF THE CROSSING - by foot wasn't as unbearable as I'd psyched myself up for it to be. I knew that there was no way on earth I'd even contemplate the climb, but I was curious to see what I'd been missing out on with a gallivant across. The Coathanger is VERYYYYY high but the views more than made up for its scary-ass height over shark-ridden water and the violent vibrations. It was cool to see the climbers up close and not ant-esque from far below. Yet every security bloke we passed, I asked (more so) out of fear if it were truly safe. Irrationally, I couldn't shake the angst within, that it'd collapse although I knew 6 million rivets hold the infrastructure together and thousands of vehicles travel over it daily with no dramas. I just want to publicly declare that I AM AN IDIOT for being that frightened; but I am stupidly proud that I made it the entire way over and back without cowardice thwarting me. 

An afternoon swim in Andrew Bay Pool would've been divine but we crossed it off the list in favour of a late lunch. This came in the shape of a supersized mango chicken salad with my first tastings of quinoa and it was gorgeous to my palate. The tofu chunks tried to ruin what was a good, light meal and at any rate it filled my belly hole. Si, it was a tad too healthy for the likes of a chocolate fiend but still had me licking my lips.

I rewarded myself for my intrepidity with some time alone to seek out the lauded Gelato Messina and gladly I didn't have a grotesque queue to contend with. Ordering the lovely but elusive signature piece, Heisenberg (blueberry yogurt and crystallized violets - Breaking Bad pop culture reference) and caramellised white chocolate. The creamy culmination was just so pretty, melty and exquisite it made my tongue break out into a happy dance! The rhino inside me, longed to do an 'Oliver' and hold out my bowl pleading for more cos you've got to lick a gelato or two :D 

R & R was requisite for the Rianney at my hostel and she (haaaa at speaking of myself in the third person) had to settle for a mini snooze when an evening thunderstorm pulled the plug on my Moonlight cinema plans. But the hell I wasn't going to go out at all so later we stepped out to get chips in the Kings Cross vicinity and met some friendly lads who chatted away to us. Bouncers invited us into their strip club as we proceeded past 'ladies are welcome too' and I had no hesitation in declining their sleazy offer. 

The night ended in 5 Boroughs, now our regular haunt for one of their legit fruity numbers though I wasn't as crazy about it as it wasn't made by my Mexican mansicle :( Our prime nosy spy spot was stolen by undeserving patrons *boo* *jeer* *hiss* I had a strong realisation that I am restless to leave the massively overrated Sydney and be in Brisbane then everything would be finer than fine. 

The Irish are green, the Mountains are blue and Rianne Montigue belongs in a zoo!

DAY 16 - 

Oh crap on a cracker, what a write off of a day #16 was! Essentially all my plans were ruined by weather or not feasible with public transport. I felt like the Sydney sun is on house (SKY) arrest as it had been very Englandy, which was expected in Melbourne but not here. MEH. BAH. BOOOOO. 

On a whim I popped by for the St Patrick Day parade; albeit it was not held on March 17th and came 2 days early. GREEN threw up all over the city!! The crowds were rowdy but the very charming Irish and their emerald raiments were out in full force. How patriotic! Sadly, it wasn't that much of a craic for there were no leprechauns and only a wee bit of Irish dancing. The waving kiddies were the cutest but I soon lost interest in the barely decorated floats... that is until lollies were thrown into the streets. Inspirited by the marching displays, I got into Irish mode with my green food too. Alas, my mushy avocado toasted sandwich wasn't the tantalising treat my tum had imagined it to be. 

As a vacationer, you are essentially obliged to tour the outstanding world wonder down under aka The Sydney Opera House. Well, I'd be a possum's bottom not to take a bonafide, guided visit under the sails. The internationally recognised, zany architecture of this superstructure now epitomises Australia. What blows my mind, is how 233 designs were sent in for it as a competition! 

*OTHER FACTS AND FIGURES* 

• The winner, Jørn Utson only received $5000 for his blueprint
• It was originally estimated to cost 7 million dollars but when completed the sum was in excess of 102 MILLION!!!!!! 
• In the main concert hall, it houses the largest, mechanical, grand organ in the world.
• The designer never got to see the finished masterpiece but what he accomplished is nothing short of astounding.
• The construction was largely funded by The National Lottery, who then pulled out of the project professing Utson's architectural plans to be unpractical. 
• 'The highest roof shell is 67 metres above sea-level, the equivalent of a 22 storey building.' 
• Operas are subtitled even if they are performed in English.

It was a fantastic day to do some sightseeing, as the sun shone (at this point of the afternoon) and the O/House didn't appear oooooglay when gleaming magically and mystically in the sunlight. NOW I can sorta see what all the fuss is about! Inside are 5 theatres in all and I believe there are talks of expansion but don't quote me on that :D Our tour guide recited his monologue as though he were starring in one of the theatrical productions. It was a good job I didn't have tickets to see a play as he blabbed spoilers about the endings and character deaths of some of the various stageshows taking place. I shan't pretend it was endlessly fascinating but it killed an hour or two and I was glad to have a nose around the old place and send my salutations. 

Friendlessly, I fell in love with the peaceful calmness and prettiness of the Chinese Garden of Friendship; Jamie and Johannah would love it here. There is a soothing presence ambling any which way through the quaint hideaway. You are able to hire out traditional dress and take photographs as you walk round the grounds. Spiders aside, this is a terrifically pleasant way to while away an hour or so. 

Tumbled along to Tumbalong Park, with the aim of checking out the Thai festival being held that weekend. I was having a fine time watching the martial arts show, when without warning the rains fell upon us and we were all DRENCHED by the torrential downpour in seconds flat. Holy tarnations!!!! I'm fairly sure this came about as a byproduct of Cyclone Pam which was angrily kicking the ass of Northern Australia. Immediately, hundreds sought shelter; mine was found under a table umbrella, huddled among 20 others in a Thai fam. The things we do for culture! Soaked through and miserable as sin; all my other intentions for the day took a literal rain check. Respite away from the rain as it threatened to NEVER DESIST; resulted in me being a corporate sell out to Starbucks for hot choco. 

MOOD MASSIVELY DAMPENED and clothes drastically wet through, comfort food was in order to warm and cheer me up. A humongous portion of chips with aioli sauce from a grotty dive of a dining establishment was exquisite upon my taste buds. Prayed this would be the last all-alone-and-wet-feeling-sorry-for-myself chapter in Sydney.. just as I was beginning to  LIKE IT. WHY DID I EVER LEAVE MELBOURNE? Laundered my clothes back at the hostel rooftop; only to have them locked in while they were drying. Waiting ceaselessly, while the ferret of a receptionist took personal calls; ignoring the British chica, currently FUMING was not her wisest move. Before these irritants got RIANNED with rage, I put myself to bed not wanting to be further antagonised and hoping to wake up to a brighter day. 

DAY 17 -

The day was spent Blue Mountaineering with James Corck, a guy I know from home; it was good to see a familiar face in a strange land and with him I knew I'd be in safe hands. This rugged region was named by a presumably, partially colour blind geezer for the range is 100% GREEN from where I was hiking. They are said to have a distinctive, blue haze due to the densely populated oil bearing eucalyptus trees. 

Cooler conditions in the jungle shade were of immeasurable benefit to shelter me from the affliction of sunstroke. Before we set off from the village of Wentworth, nature came calling and I had to tinkle in a vile, public dunny which stunk to high heaven and was abounding with spider webs. Naturally, I got the hell out of there faster than Usain Bolt! Poor, my nostrils:( 

Meandering commenced along an easy, level-pathed, UNsteep bushwalk and I was able to keep up with James' speed; hot on his heels (he may declare differently!!). Picturesque, photograph-able panaromas infested every direction we beheld. I wanted to stop and stare  at the special sights before us every so often but the man blazed ahead like a bat out of hell. We really were in the heart of the mountains and holy crap, it was BEAUTIFUL. To fully breathe it in and appreciate the radiance of our surroundings is maybe more of a girly desire but I strongly exhort you to do so. 

Along the windy course, we spied an echidna curled up, sticking its bum out at US. Here's a crass truth: these long-beaked mammals have a four-headed penis!!! It is getting to the point where I almost want to see a snake cos it's NOT an authentic Aussie exploration without a carnivorous reptile sighting! As such, I'm inclined to believe Oz are fibbing about some of their venomous, tropical creatures! Red headed, black bodied ants can be found in plenitude on the ground; take care to avoid an outbreak of fireants, dancing in your pants! :P 

Up with the clouds, there is something so hypnotically mesmerising and sacred. Lush vegetation encircled us as did the majestic waterfalls of Wentworth and Empress Falls. To take a dip was very inviting but my sense of adventure was overpowered by my chubby girl reservations that I cannot rid myself of. The mist and spray felt as we walked by and under the cascading, crystal clear waters was both reinvigorating and rejuvenating. By the sum of my parts, I am just a chicken as I'd never have the guts to join the groups rapelling down the falls.

Boy Scouty James, urged me to confront my fears head on, which I took a crack at in spite of it violating the whole spirit of my cowardly constitution. One such instance was for an altitudinous selfie in the jungle on a bridge over a ravine. All my closest friends know full well that I am not a bold risk taker; so for James to encourage me onto rock boulders to look out over cliff ledges (much to my bedgrudgement) was an impressive feat. 

On the highest parts of the overcliff trail, I predominantly looked directly at the path ahead; in doing so I missed much of the stunning scariness and ensured no creepies were crawling over my feeties at the same time. I hate, LOATHE AND DESPISE the stairs that turned my legs to jelly!!!!! James was giving me plenty of positive reinforcement to power through to the top but it made me feel sick and dizzy as it was TOOOOOOO hard and there were TOOOOOOOOOOOOOO many, so I lagged far behind. I'm still recollecting that this was the stupidest location to place them. It wouldn't be a problem, if you're awesome at this kind of step scaling!! Before the encounter with my enemy, I fancied myself as having a bad ass day :D 

In all, we only walked 10k or so but it was over some tough terrain which made it seem further. It was grand to catch up with Corcky regardless of my inadequate mountain rambling prowess :D Glad to have seen these sights and catch up with an old mate, in Australia no less. After completing 4 of the hundreds of walking tracks the Blue Mountains offered up, it was straight into a cold shower to freshen up from the smelly welliness. Yet another 'Grandma' bush tuckered evening was had as this goofy goat's energy was killed. 

NOW Sydney and I have a love thing going on! ;)

DAY 15

To the masses, please beg my pardon if my previous blog bummed you out, but it wasn't exactly an auspicious beginning in New South Wales. Thanks to Sydney sunshine starting to smite my big, stupid sickness; my body is on its way to recuperating fully though it still screams at me to slow my pace down . With relief, that it was no longer freaky Friday 13th and that the perfect Aussie weather I was promised had at last put in an appearance I was raring to set out with sprightly abandon. Ready to suck the marrow out of life in Sydneyside! 

The considerable increase in summery temperature is a buzzkill; toasting my body like a marshmallow on a skewer. I had no facial perspiration to speak of but with all my trekking to the touristy sights, sweat dripped down my back and trickled under my pits - beaut (!) I did not extend friendship to the 4 black and yellow polka dotted spiders I spotted, in their natural habitat within the Royal Botanical Gardens. You'd think the uncensored horror of the beasties dangling down from a tree, sunning in their tangled web would be enough to incite strong, unadulterated, blind hate ---- but far from it. They were kinda sorta amiable.

This turnip of a traveler now found herself warming to the city after seeing every inane tourist attraction known to Australia! Much of that may be due to the lovely day which had graced us with its presence :D I came, I saw, I snapped. Thus, seeing these majestic icons -*THE* bridge and Opera House up close and personal increased the charm of the metropolis. In fairness, the latter is actually not particularly pleasing to the pupils given their opulence, but they had to be checked off the Oz bucket list. I didn't realise it was not conjoined, not that it deterred me from shooting hundreds of snaps of the concert hall. 

Brunching at Pancakes on the Rocks is a culinary encounter that you can't put a price on. Darn it to heck, to tuck into the famous coco berry chocolate pancakes is like eating heaven itself. I swear these should be REVERED or at the very least have a pancake monument erected in its honour. The contents of my plate was not the only thing that had me drooling!! The devastatingly handsome doorman was the double of Puck from Glee only without the absurd hair and farrrrrr more gorgeous. I wish I hadn't looked so shamefully pathetic, at a table for one, my lips getting affectionate with pudding instead of a person. 

B'AHHHHHH CLUMSINESS STRIKES AGAIN: Next time you open your wardrobe and decide on a white top, consider 'is this wise?' Somehow even seemingly without a pen on my person, I managed to scribble directly across my tummy. And so a significant portion of the day was spent concealing the clothes graffiti. Why can I not look cute in an outfit for once???

Tall ship cruise around the harbour? WHY NOT? A one and a half hour cruise beckons you when the beams and gleams of the sun drizzle down from the sky. As we drift along, commentary forewarns that there ARE thousands of sharks around (just not Great Whites; hammerheads and bull sharks are more typical) and they have been known to frequent Port Jackson. As recently as 2009 a navy diver lost his hand to Jaws off Garden Island, which is a major part of the RAN'S Fleet Base. Keep your teeth off me you flesh-chomping maniacs!!!!! Yet the only sea creature I saw in the deep were heaps of jellyfish bobbing gracefully. 

Oooh aaaaaar' me hearties, I momentarily morphed into Captain Jack Sparrow and commandeered our vessel fleetingly. I might have sucked at steering the wheel but it had to be done and nobody died on my watch. I tasted freedom!! It mustn't have been dreadfully difficult as the skipper at the helm, guided it with only his feet at some points. I became enamoured with this part of Sydney, based on the out of this world panoramic views we were offered. Anyone on board could climb the mast and help man the sails should it take their fancy! 

The engine was switched off and the sails floated us under THE bridge and back to Campbells Cove. Only an insufferable bore would not find an uncommonly radiant sail around this touristic treasure trove, to be a splendid way to spend an afternoon. I am lobsterly sunburned across my chest and arms :( despite slathering every inch of my bare flesh with sunlotion. DAMN the hole in the o-zone layer!!! It aches :( This is a terrific lesson in not underestimating the strength of sun rays. 

Y'all, I came across a pretty kick ass, hidden gem of a pizza joint that goes by the name of 'Rocket Boy' in the Kings Cross neighbourhood. My medium 'Stella' only set me back $17 (which was conjured up especially senza quezo para mia) and was topped with: 'chicken breast in a fresh lime, chilli, coriander and coconut sauce, sopressa salami, roasted chilli onions, garlic, jalapenos, fresh basil, bocconici and roasted capsicum.' Sometimes, to be bad feels good when it's with food :D I gobbled the lot like a gorilla on a banana! It was TOO fabaroonio to stop pigging out and was seriously the PRIMO pizza of my life <3 Now, I've had a piece-a pizza from paradise, how can I go back? NOM NOM NOM! If you find yourself in this suburb and could use an extra extra so-tasty-it's-a-talent slice or seventeen, look no further! 

The evening was spent unwinding on the rooftop of my hostel, where I could just about make out the bridge and Opera House lit up in my field of vision <------- the ONLY positive aspect of staying at this shoddy HOLE-stel. A strange turn of events was taken, on being invited out with a group of Irish lads; I, Rianne Montigue, pride myself on not being a judgy person but I was freaked out the moment I learned a couple of their crew were tripping out on TCP. One of the aforementioned had even suffered a seizure from his drug use... so I declined the offer. Then I encountered a tipsy girl in the communal area (where I'd gone to use the wifi on my phone) who TROD on my toes, then turned round to kiss my face in way of an apology. Oh goodness, it's NOT the place for me here, not one little bit.. maybe that might make me the town's spoilsport but getting stoned or off my face drinking goon, with goons is NOT my version of a fun time.