Well, I’m in Western Australia now. Its hard for me to believe to be honest.
My last exam finished on the 12th of November at 5:30pm. My flight left the next day for Sydney, and I had booked a spot to stay near the Airport so I could fly out to Perth the next day. So, I needed to clean up my room, pack all of my life into three (or four 🙂 suitcases, and get ready to go for 9:00am. All worked out pretty well, with my room getting pretty much cleaned, me only drinking one bottle of wine (two would have been prohibitive) and getting all of my crap into four bags.
Now for all of you that have a good sense of humour like I do, you’ll get a laugh out of this. I met a really great guy a week before I left Auckland. Nice, huh? We had a week long fling, he drove me out to the airport, and said the whole cheesy, cliched goodbye. We knew getting into things that would be the case, but ah, you know how that happens sometimes. We think we are a bit stronger than we are. So, here I am in Perth feeling like a stupid girl.
But, on other news, I got to hang out in my fancy hotel room near the airport in Sydney, which all made up for the sappy goodbye. I got in about 5pm on Sunday, ordered room service and watched some TV. I bought some sparkling wine and some chocolate from the mini-bar. I then proceeded to have a bubble bath, and sat in the tub for an unreal amount of time. To say I was prune-y was a bit of an understatement. I was oblivious to many things, included a bomb threat which happened at the hotel supposedly. I only found out about it when I was getting ready to leave the airport the next day, and an American staying there said “Did you hear all the commotion last night?”. That reminds me of the time I slept through the firealarm at University: I’m glad that it was a false alarm (as was this bomb threat) or it could have been messy. Honestly, I’m not sure if I’d have known of the bomb threat if I would have left the hotel. I was really enjoying my bath.
Then I wandered to the airport, hopped on my plane for Perth. I had a great seat, the one that is in the front of a bank of seats, so I had a heap of leg room. Problem is with those seats that they have a dinky little tray on the side, which caused me to spill red wine on myself. Luckily, my shirt was a very similiar colour, and you couldn’t even tell there was anything that had been spilled. Then the lady beside me was a right beeeatch – I don’t expect someone to be best friends with me, but it just isn’t fun spending four hours of a flight with someone fighting over the armrests with you.
I had ordered a gluten-free meal, and it was bad. They actually were so strapped for ideas they included rice cakes. Blech.
The flight was very uneventful other than lame gluten-free crap and armchair stealing woman. I was met at the airport by my cousins Bruce, Gael and Pat. They drove me to Gael’s house and I re-met my Great Aunt Connie, who is now (funnily enough) considerably shorter from when I remembered meeting her last. But then again, I was 10, and she was about 20 years younger than she is now. We had a great dinner – a BBQ – and then I got to sleep relatively early.
Today was my first day in the city and we went to Cottlestoe Beach. My big joke is that I”m going to get eaten by a shark, because they are lazy hunters and would rather have a good feast”. So I asked Gael about this beach, and supposedly someone died from a shark attack there a few years ago, but she assured me that there weren’t that many, and it was a perfectly safe place to swim. We were at a cafe overlooking the water, and this woman came over to Gael and asked if the sharks were out today. Gael looked at me and then her and said “Don’t say *that*, she’s Canadian”, to which the woman replied, “Well, they don’t tend to stay up here, they tend to be more down south anyhow”. Well, funnily enough, I am going with the family down south in the beginning of December. So Gael spoke up and said, “Well, don’t say that *either* because we are going there in December”. To which the lady said “Oh, well, I hear the wine tours down there are nice”.
SO, my theory is that there are about 100000 people that die every year from shark attacks in Perth, but *no one talks about them*. Instead of Fight Club, its Shark Club. After the exchange above, Gael said, “Well, there may be a few sharks, but they don’t tend to feed in the afternoon. So as long as you go swimming later in the day, you should be fine”. I just had to laugh. Either it was the truth, it was a secret shark society, or it was a cunning ploy for the locals to keep tourists out of the water.
Later on in the day today we went shopping to the “ethnic” parts of town, and had some lunch at an Indian restaurant. We wandered around a bit, and the Christmas decorations are now up, and today is the first warm day they’ve had for the last while, meaning it is about 30 degrees. So, tinsel and warm sun. A blinding combination.
That is all for now, I’ve taken some odd pics but no access via laptop to upload them, so will do that later on. –