Further tales from Rianney, ever the wayward vagabond

DAY 21

Hello my men and women, this blog is an account of my final, full day in Sydney. By this point, I was suffering acutely from itchy feet syndrome and supremely looking forward to moving on up to Brisbane. I wouldn't go as far as to say, I revile Sydney but we won't be parting on the best of terms as bff's either. 

Featherdale Wildlife Park was a sterling choice as my concluding outing; starting at the crocodile feeding. It is undeniable that these reptiles are true hunters and boy was this fella a beast! They exhibit high intelligence stalking their prey of dead chicken before leaping out of the water to shred the carcass to smithereens with its razor teeth. I was rattled by how it eagle eyed the crowd in ravenous ways as the enclosure was not barricaded brilliantly; it would have been all too easy for croco to jump out and attack a member of the public or a staff member. Snap snap!! You just know he'd have no qualms to crunch and crush the hell out of you. 

Whenever I am around the perfectly, precious Little Penguins I want to give them kisses. I miss seeing their sweetness! What induces chuckles from me, is that these seabirds eat like a rich, fat man gobbling down more fish than they should be able to fit in their teeny bodies.  These fluffy faces don't love when their pongy refreshments are accidentally dropped into the sand; as such they refuse to so much as nibble at their spoilt snacks - fusspots! The eeeeevil, sacred, straw-necked Ibis bird need zero encouragement to swoop in and thieve my penguin pals, only means of nutrients. These aforementioned bad birdies are AWFUL and rock up purely to pillage. 

MAKING THE CLAWED TREE-BEARS MAD = DUMB MOVE: It was needful for me to turn on my inner dibber dobber as a gremlin lady continuously prodded at one of the sleeping Joeys with her selfie stick. How cruel and selfish to startle and possibly wound the gorgeous thing, just in order to take a photo of it awake in the tree with her. It just broke my heart so I commanded her to stop 3 times but she ignored me or didn't understand. I snapped and kicked up a stink, reporting her to a member of staff while really I'd have loved nothing more than to have whacked her over the head with her stick, to see how she likes it. (Woahm RAGEY RIANNE!) Other groups unkindly shoved their selfie sticks over the walls and directly into the marsupials faces :( The meanies deserved comeuppance and who could've blamed any of the koalas if they'd lashed out and mauled a tourist?

Sad day, the wombats were blinking hidden away in hollowed out logs, for they were too hot and bothered to come out and see their number one fan. I convinced myself I was fine about it, but really I was a little bit gutted not to have any interactions with those sweetie pants. It's my own fault for being a daftie and not visiting my favourites first and foremost but there's bound to be opportunities to see them again sometime within the remainder of my stay in Oz. And if not, I'll still hold my wombat pat and play encounter at Healesville Sanctuary close to my heart. 

One criticism of Featherdale, is the lack of food options (which is much the same in places of this sort); you couldn't even get a chicken sandwich so you're better off bringing your own picnic lunch. So much for my chip boycott, I committed carb suicide with moooooooooooore deep fried potato strips. The potatoey fatness, alongside *the* grossest, icky hot dog with salmon pink skin made for an UNHAPPY meal. There was nothing pleasurable about it. 

H'obs the ibis birds sniff around the sidelines, hungrily waiting for annihilating any leftovers. Greedily and menacingly, one jumped upon my table to see what it could pinch; the less you give the more they want. Other scumbags terrorised an innocent kid at another bench; he cried his eyes out and the parent wanted to kick the bird's head in but naturally that wouldn't have been looked on too kindly at a wildlife tourist attraction. 

In the little bubble of wallaby land, everything is beautiful and blithe in their life. The macrapods are fed insane amounts of tucker by the park guests, that the seed is coming out of their eyeballs! Deep down they're probably just taking it to be polite but they'd sooner have a pie! :D One cheekster managed to prise the ice cream cone of pellets right out of my hand; their tummy has a mind of its own!! While being gluttonous, it acquiescently posed for selfies avec moi. 

Before leaving, I had to get the compulsory koala snap but a gaggle of bimbos who had numerous mugshots with it, brandishing every pout imaginable angered me. In the end I got to pose with an adorable, animal friend in a eucalyptus coma, cuddled up on his branch. His minder encouraged me to pat its bum and stroke the fuzz balls fluff; this is when he cutely woke up, peeked and yawned before dozing off again. These legit cutie pies get fawned over, everywhere they go but I do love them with all of my heart; they're the second most lovely marsupial on the face of the earth. 

ONE OF THE ONLY EVENINGS IN SYDNEY THAT MADE ME CHEERFUL: Was spent in the amiable company of my boss Jenny's daughter, Rachel. I enjoyed myself so much I no longer wanted to be away from what I'd considered - this unpleasant-to-holiday-in area. We hit up The Lobo Plantation, a Caribbean themed bar for a drinkie quickie. The place was buzzin' with a crapload of locals but we squeezed in and sat at the bar, chatting with the friendly barmen who especially made me a glorious, virgin mojito. 

As Jenny has spoken about her so much, it felt like I already knew Rachel and she has a touch of her Mum about her :) On to Cockle Bay wharf, Rachel kindly treated me to a delicious meal of cheeseless, stone-oven veggie pizza (for the girl with the intolerance) at The Blackbird Cafe; overlooking the illuminated Darling Harbour. It was so generous of Rachel to give up one of her Friday evenings to spend time with me on my last night in Sydney. I love that we were yapping away together as though we were old friends. It was so lovely to meet her! 

ON THE CUSP OF MURDERING A PEST: That night, I struggled to sleep after hearing about a hellish Hunstman spider being found and killed in the very room next to ours, only earlier that day. Out of the corner of my jittery eye, I saw something flying at me in the dark. Freaked out that it was an arachnid, I did what any basket case would do - namely hopping out of bed, flailing and wailing, waking up all my room mates and ready to blow its spidery brains out with my holiday reading book! The light was switched on and all four of us had a fight with what turned out to be a measly moth, to swat it the hell out of the window. I would have thought that the other hostel guests would have been displeased with our spooked screams but the young hoodlums were most likely out partying. 

I did have some lovely times here but it's a shame that I actually just started to like Syders right before I left it. Basically, the business of the city was not appealing to me but if I ever have the chance to come back I'll be less snooty and view it in a better light xx