(As written 11/05/2011)
The latest headlines from Samuel Fry news worldwide: ‘Sandman returns in the form of twenty something Brit’, ‘Beware: Goon Brings Travellers to their knees faster than Drop-Bears!’ and front page big seller ‘Cameraman shrieks as ‘up skirt shot’ turns nasty when Man walks onto beach with Crotch hole in Board shorts!’ I arrived in the smart surfer town of Noosa in a naturally charming fashion. Noosa was of course the first stop on my hopscotch tour of Brisbane’s beaches. The beach was strange as the first things I noticed were surfers, skaters and more turkeys than Christmas at Britain’s fattest man’ house. Yes, the streets were full of turkeys! It was like the black plague, but with less vermin and much more gobbledygook. Linguistically, I was right at home. I spent my time in Noosa sunbathing, searching for koalas and trying to rinse every last bit of sand out of my rucksack: to this day I haven’t won that battle. Next was a night’s stopover in Brisbane. Aside from a trip to the Modern Art Museum, Brisbane was relatively uneventful. Except of course for the biggest event in modern history. Ignore the recession, ignore the conflicts in the middle East: It was time for the Royal wedding! Woo! Royal Wedding! Yes, you heard me, Royal Wedding! Why aren’t you cheering? Royal wedding! Leaving aside any puns referring to surfers riding the royal wave, the Royal wedding was big news down under as around 40 people from various nationalities crammed into our one TV room to watch out for celebrities old and new, horsy faces both royal and not and of course, that dress. Unfortunately, I missed some of the build up and so was unable to see the footage of Prince William drunkenly singing ‘Old McDonald had a Farm’; whilst, being tied to a lamppost alongside Blackpool Pleasure Beach. Equally, Australian television opted not to show the cat fight between Kate and Pippa Middleton in the downstairs toilets of Flares Nightclub. A fight which ended with a black eyed toilet attendant after she had a plastic tiara stuck directly in it. An occurrence which Pippa has since pointed out was lucky to have occurred prior to the wedding as that toilet attendant would have been in a lot more pain had she come across Kate with her gold crown and staff at the ready: an outfit that Kate has already expressed a determination to wear every Saturday night on her regular two pitchers at Wetherspoons followed by 3 Tequilas and a White Russian at a local nightspot. A White Russian a controversial drink of course for Kate as it also describes the wife that Prince Philip had previously had in mind for William. A day later and I was on the beaches of Surfers Paradise. A beach which mirrored huge buildings on one side with huge waves on the other. Unfortunately, the weather was less impressive and so I was limited to surfing the internet and eating my far share of McDonald’s soft serve ice creams: officially the cheapest snack in Australia (according to my newly released novel ‘Down and Under? Aussilicious Street Bargains’. In the words of W People, 'Moving on down' it was time for Byron Bay dude. Imagine a group of surfers went up to a group of hippies and said, ‘Hey man, fancy building some huts and shops and bars dude? ‘cos this place has like some totally rad waves!’ and you’ve got Byron. Staying at the Arts Factory Lodge, a large hostel and camping complex built originally to host the musicians playing at Byron’s Blues Festival, this concept was heightened to the size of a tree fit for hugging. The Arts Factory was undoubtedly my favourite Australian hostel. It had a big pool, wildlife mixing with some wild looking people as well as daily bush tucker walks and didgeridoo lessons. I was sad to leave Byron, but it was time to enter the city built for grandparents. Sydney: famous for Opera and Bridge. Although, on first impressions it seemed this was more like a city for Dutch. No there were no pancakes, illicit drugs or passionately coloured light districts. Actually, in truth, all those entities were almost definitely present; but, I wont take your xenophobic attitude no matter whether I wrote it or not! Simply, there were a lot of Dutch people in my hostel. My days were spent guided from sight to sight, walking across and taking in the panoramic view from the Harbour Bridge and chilling out on Bondi Beach. The week ended on the rocks with climbing and drinking the main priority. I left in style, eating cheese and drinking wine at my hostel - unfortunately the wine was goon and the cheese was more plastic than Jessica Simpson's lips.
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Samuel FryTraveller Archives
June 2011
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