The 'drizzle' in Brizzle

DAY 22 - 

7 am wake ups on your va-kay are unbelievably STUPID: My shuttle to the airport was late and had me fretting I'd miss my flight. This guy, who picked me up was a maniac driver - hitting curbs, maneuving an illegal u-turn to return to a hostel we'd been to 5 minutes ago as he'd not waited to pick passengers up and whatnot. But, I was not worried for my life, no sirree (!) .. I was. I definitely DEFINITELY was. Who did he think he was, one of the blokes from The Fast and the Furious? 

After managing somehow not to have an accident and a super speedy check in, I had earned myself a Pieface almond twist (awesome pie slash cake) and OJ. Yo, check it, Virgin Australia are unreal and I can't recommend them highly enough. My short domestic trip from Sydney to Brisbane was a really smooth, relaxing flight as we floated above the cotton ball puff clouds. On landing, the humidity slapped me in the face and that was on an overcast day so I dread to think how insufferable it would be when it was actually sunny. 

Leaving Roma Station in pursuit of my hostel, I wasn't managing with my bags at all; grunting like an old pot belly pig and no doubt sweating like a swine. Dragging my belongings in the exact opposite direction to where I should have been heading -------> FAIL. It is meant to be a 7 minute walk away so shouldn't have been problematic but I'm blaming not having a map.. and being tired ..and geographically clueless. The concierge at a nearby hotel agreeably took pity on me and helped me get a cab, so as to avoid a repeat of Sydney on my hands. It was $12.60 down the drain to go essentially around the corner but never mind, he saved grumpy Gus on the grumpy bus, from passing out on the streets of Bris. 

I reached my destination and checked in at Chill Backpackers, all Miss glass-half-empty. Back off, pessimism or RACK OFF, rather to use the Aussie vernacular! My first impression of my room and board for the next 8 days were regarding its funkiness and CHILLED vibe. It wasn't the Ritz but it was heaps more adequate than my lodgings in Sydney. 

It was not until closer inspection that night I uncovered some of the terrible aspects of these quarters: the musty damp stink, the ceiling leak on floor 3, 8 beds squashed into a dorm room (the same size as the one of 4 in Potts Point), a rock hard bed with linen which was not yet dry and chilly room temperatures. These are my only complaints which may sound no great shakes and a LOT of faults but to a hosteler, it was bearable because it can always be worse. 

Stepped out to explore, Han Solo after bathing scrupulously. Immediately, I knew the rain was imminent as the black clouds hanging overheard became darker and angrier. I hurried on undeterred regardless; determined that a little drop of rain could hardly hurt me now. This chowderhead was wrong, baby, WRONG on that count. 

Beside the Brisbane Wheel, an event Operation Slipper (hosted for military families) was in full swing so I spectated while a band sang on stage. My stomach pangs hit me like a shovel so I nipped for a quick bite of wild rice and chickpea salad with a chicken skewer to assuage the appetite. THEN. IT. HAPPENED.

THE SKY IS A HARSH MISTRESS -  The threatening, swirling vortex of a super storm came to pass and it was like something out of a disaster movie. Crowds dashed for shelter, soaked within split seconds but fortuitously I came prepped with my rain jacket. Children screamed in fear as lightning struck perilously, the downpours were never-ending and thunder roared akin to a stampede of 50 peed off dinosaurs. It was like NOTHING I have ever witnessed before. Hundreds of us, huddled together under the cafes of South Bank; waiting and waiting and waiting for it to let up but it defiantly refused. Paths flooded and since the drencher showed no signs of subsiding and I wasn't wanting to camp overnight I pegged it when there was a slight lull in the theatrics of the sky. The multitudes also hid away in the State Library until the coast was clear as did I, in order to use free wifi. 

When the tempest had petered out, I for once successfully navigated my way on foot to a Brisbane historic site farrrrr away. 'The Old Windmill was built in 1828 during colonial times by convicts for grinding grains, such as wheat and maize. The Old Windmill originally had wind-powered sails.After the murder of two members of a surveying party near Mount Lindesay in May 1840, three Aboriginal men were apprehended and tried for the crimes. In July 1841, the two surviving Aborigines were hanged from a beam from an upper window of the windmill' or so sayeth wiki. Returning via an alternative route was unintentional and panned out with me roaming across Roma Parklands. For, try as I might I could not find a path to cut across back to the station though I could visibly see my hostel as it sticks out atop the hill, like a sore neon BLUE thumb. 2 friendly fellas pointed out my course so I was homeward bound and somehow still smiling. 

Mi pequeña comida Mexicana: Los Villianos supplied my grilled spiced chicken, crushed avo, corn and tomato salsa tostadas and they were SO tiny I mistook them for a free starter HAAAA. At least it was yummo and the toppings were piled high so it didn't stop my jaws from a-chomping. But  I can't pretend I wasn't imagining a bigger, better serving. Back to the hostel for my fave Aussie snack of honey soy chicken crisps as I was famished from my insufficient portions. 

DAY 23 - 

All of my solo sojourning plans here are being scuppered by these tropical storms :( That's two unlucky, nasty days of the elements in a row caused off the back of Cyclone Nathan. It is unfortunate but unavoidable and thus I shall not allow the universe to mess up my trip entirely . I REFUSE. Labeling yourself as the 'Sunshine State' is deceitful of you!! :P  

Streets Beach was my first port of call (with crossed fingers) as at daybreak it seemed to be a brighter, albeit cloudy and muggy morning. This was the numero uno time the heavens opened and I being of genius mind, sought out a chocoholic refuge at Max Brenner. Turns out it was not so genius as the mobs all had the same idea and the queues were monstrous. This meant waiting close to an hour for service as the poor staff were rushed off their feet. 

HAPPINESS HEALING: The dark, rainy clouds led me to their silver lining here and I am wholly convinced there is nothing a good, Max Brenner treat can't cure. I opted for the cookie shake which was  *the* cookie shake of MY LIFE!!!!!!! The white chocolate ganache and oreo cookie was outstandingly sweet and is the icy stuff, dessert dreams are made of. When you're a bit down, I assure you this beverage is the equivalent of 1000 hugs from friends. Run to a Max Brenner near you, now! 

A chocolate day was defo needed to give me some reasons to smile but Beastie Burgers and Chocolate Pavilion have been closed down. I'm officially CURSED in Brisvegas. Though rather distraught as I was that I wouldn't be scoffing a strawberry chocolate volcano, (which no doubt would have been like Easter in my mouth) I did not weep at my sadness. I s'pose I didn't mind so much, as it drove me into the arms of another burger franchise - Burger Urge. I will refrain from praising my average Joe of an el pollo burger as it disappointed my palate. 

After being in this world almost 3 decades, I would brag that I speak fluent chocolate now. A sampling at Noosa Chocolate Factory tantalised my taste buds in a way they had never been tantalised before. In consequence I had to purchase the thrill pill of milk choc covered goji berries. Honestly, these confitures should come with a warning label about how incredibly addictive they are. 

SWEET CHERRY PIE, ARE WE ALL GONNA DIE? Crossing back over the bridge divided the HELLements as it was marvellously sunny on the city side but naturally the way I was heading was an EVIL, devil black thundercloud. I knew it. Impending doom was sensed and even without lightning this time, it was cataclysmic. The TERROR-rotential rain poured murderously down 'pon the 'burbs which was almost funny in a sad, UNfunny way. I was half expecting frogs to rain down like in biblical times. 

The mother of all rainstorms was a refreshing cool down from the humidity but I hated how my poncho sweatily clung to every body bump. This mini cyclone is mucking up my holiday considerably :( In fairness, I can't blame Brisbane which I have really taken a liking to. It's a perfectly lovely metropolitan place with quirky, urban neighbourhoods and I do feel at home here. 

COWCH IS UDDERLY MOOOOVELLOUS - Waited here for Hollie (a friend I made in Melbs) but she was held up because of the insane rain (and given only a bin liner as protection by a passerby) so I filled my time by splashing out on a good, old friend of mine - hot chocolate. And Deluxe Milk chocolate NO LESS. OH YES, my tongue was happy but my waistline wasn't :P This was followed up by a fun hour and a half talking up a STORM not unlike the one outside, with Hollie. 

THE MOST FANCY PANTSY SWEET PIZZA TO EVER BE PIGGED OUT ON: Perusing the menu, I couldn't make up my freakin' mind with too many decadent choices. After a horrible weather weekend, I felt deserving of a gourmet strawberry pizza with milk choccie base, marshmallows, nuts, whipped cream and pink candies. If you've not already had the privilege to tuck into one, you won't know the POWER of this pizza. Put this on your list of things to eat before you die because it is TO.. DIE..FOR..

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

'Hold me in your arms, don't let me go.. I want to stay forever'

DAY 20 -

Narrowly missing out on an earlier bus to Palm beach ought to have made me really furious (on account of stepping off one stop too soon on the previous) but all it took was an orange and poppy seed muffin for me to find solace in. The beachside suburb is a mere 40km away from the heart of the big city but riding the L90 bus is the longest commuter route in Sydney so it takes substantially longer than it would in car. 

Immediately upon arrival, Palm beach weaves you into its web of heavenly radiance. Fans of the second longest running Australian drama 'Home and Away' will recognise the beach instantly. Bondi's partial prettiness doesn't hold a CRUMB to Palmy, which is basically a dream haven in comparison. 

I haven't watched Home and Away for close to a decade so it wasn't quite as cool as going on the Neighbours tour but still I have no snide comments for the viewers who love it worldwide. It was still awesome to see the exterior filming locations from when I was younger and did tune in on a regular basis. To the H & A addicts, who have not been -  GET YOUR BUTT OUT THERE!!  

Chilling in the nonexistent Summer Bay on a beautiful, Aussie autumnal day was splendorous. The infernal sun ablaze like an angry little furnace in the sky so not wearing a sunhat was a titanic mistake. Guess who made a starring cameo in my day trip? Only my new friend Carolyn!! I'd mentioned that I may head down there that day and bumped into her in the loos, not even realising it was her at first! I'm always dazed when I come to face to face with someone I know when I'm not expecting to see them in the same place as me! Nice to have her company as always :) 

♥HEARTING HOME AND AWAY'S NECK OF THE WOODS♥ - Seriously, if you haven't heard of this show, what are you? A caveman/woman/person?? Roving all over this slice of paradise with my pal, checked off the last item on my Sydney wish list. We were able to walk right up to many spots where they actually film without having to take the official tour. Many photo opp stops are to be had at: Alf Stewart's surf club and kiosk, the walkway they use down to the beach, the lighthouse and the Barrenjoey Boathouse and pier which is the diner they use for exterior H & A shots. 

Dining at the Diner has to be done. There were too many fish dishes on the poshly priced menu for my liking so I opted for 2 meals: a mammoth bowl of chunky chips with aioli sauce (despite vowing NO MORE CHIPS IN AUSTRALIA!!) and a deluxe leaf salad. Accompanied with a mango smoothie, in a novelty milk bottle as per the really pretty waiter's recommendation. I wasn't too impressed with it for the exotic sweetness didn't quench my thirst. Nor, could I  finish my filling food in the fear that I'd smite my stomach. 

Other than the Blue Mountains, *this* golden-sanded, jewel is my fave part of Sydney (some of New South Wales is dead to me) and rightly so. It is more peaceful as it is not overcrowded and overlooks a splendiferous bay where you can take a ride on a seaplane, should that take your fancy. The singular flaw of Palm Beach was our run-in with a scary-looking spider, minding its own biscuits as it was hanging loose over a hedge. Carolyn walked right into its web and her momentary frantic panic to free herself was something I wish I had Vined so I could loop its hilarity :D Sorry Cazza xx

BEACHBUMMERS - After much sunshine basking and paddling, naturally I was more freckly and burnt before daybreak even with lashings of lotion. Shoot! We had some 'gifted' pectorally perfect, uber bronzed lifeguards and swimmers to eye up on this occasion. And I mean like crazy enamourably hot!!! *Call the police and the fireman!* Gosh darn, I missed the chance to be hilarious and re-enact Baywatch with an unattended, lifeguard surfboard. Alas, no filming took place while we were there (not that I'd have known the characters nowadays) but it mattered not a jot as we aren't the sort of cheese balls that went solely to see the soap actors.

It is impossible not to be seduced by the charming, fictitious village of Summer Bay which the rich and famous of 'Straya frequent. I'm a woman in love with it! Note - you will bring back half the beach on your body if you've gone in the water as the wet sand coarsely clings to your skin. It took some aggressive shower scrubbing to remove!!  

At sundown, I avoided the hostel goons getting drunk ON goon but was accosted by a Chilean, sweaty senor. WHY are these the types compelled to converse with me flirtatiously? NO NO NO NO NO, it is not cool beans to hit on a single female and refuse to release her for your own delight. Ughhhhh and MEH to these jerks!! 

Catch ya on the flippy flip, starfishies xx