Sydney was a party.
I was probably just overwhelmed with gratitude that I was in a place where I knew the language and had partially been exposed to the culture (thx Olsen Twins, #OurLipsAreSealed), but I’m pretty sure I would have enjoyed it even otherwise.
Living with Julie in central Sydney kept me close to a lot of action. Life was thrifting and dinner parties and dancing nearly until dawn and eating delicious cheesey-naan from that cheap Indian place on my way home.
Moving to Zoe’s at Bondi Beach settled me in to a life of second hand books and dragging my feet through sand and taking up residency in cafes named after Paris and wearing admittedly too much lipstick.
And of course, wherever I went there were views views views.
Friends and nature crossed over like that satisfying middle part of a Venn Diagram, whether we were traipsing across mountains or gawking at beautiful animals in the zoo. (Btw, did you know that Tasmanian Devils are at major risk of extinction? Simon Baker wants to tell you more about it.)
I got to see landmarks I’d only ever seen in pictures…
Eat the famous Harry’s pie…
And even snuggle with a koala.
So, to synthesize: staying in Sydney made me feel that same excitement and anticipation that would wash over me when I’d be watching Disney Channel and the That’s So Raven theme song would come on. It just doesn’t get any better.
So Sydney, I love you. I wish dearly that I’ll see you again. But I have to go because I’m starting to put on a pseudo-Australian accent and that’ll annoy my mother beyond belief when I get back home. So I’m off to New Zealand! Hugs and kisses (and then more hugs and then more kisses)!