Trip Start Dec 03, 2004
85Trip End Nov 31, 2005
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"Oh, yeah, they've cancelled the Bondi Christmas party because a few years back 200 Brits got really drunk and almost drowned," someone tells me at breakfast. Now that I room with Vanessa, a Brit, I've been adopted into this grand tradition. In reality they don't seem to get up to much in the way of trouble, but rather just enjoy a good time; but there are quite a lot of them in the city, so it's easy to see how their shenanigans are magnified.
Tuesday night I went out with Vanessa, her friend Louise and two blokes named Ian and Paul. It was the boys' last night in Sydney, and as they were on short holiday, not a long backpacking trip, they had money to burn
After dinner we did a bar tour of Sydney. It seems that bouncers in Australia frown on people who wear "thongs" (flip-flops) to the bar, despite it being the uniform footwear of all Aussies, but a nice smile and an accented "please" seems to do the trick.
Now that I've "cracked the code," whatever it was, the hostel has turned very social, hitting us with a Beer and Bingo night, a Quiz night (my team came in third, and we would've won if I hadn't totally fudged the question about the color of the bottom stripe on the American flag), a wine and chees night, and plenty of outings to local bars. I think I feel a beer gut coming on.
My first souvenir of my trip is a whole swacket of Brit slang. "Fit" instead of "hot" for attractive men: "Oh, lord, take a look at that Aussie fittie!" And "pull" instead of "pick up:" "He's totally pulling her." And, best of all, "I can't be arsed."