"Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream, if you see a crocodile, don't forget to scream!"

Public transportation in Sydney is highly frustrating. Buses are quite rarely on time. Sometimes, they're very early. Sometimes, they're very late. Sometimes, for whatever reason, they never show up. Let me give an example of what may occur when using Sydney public transportation.

It's entirely possible that a person might go out to the bus stop right next to their house five minutes before the bus is supposed to arrive only to wait for twenty minutes before deciding to take the ten minute walk up the hill to the larger road that has six different bus routes crossing it. It is then possible for none of those six buses to arrive for another thirty minutes, causing this person to hail a cab that is the only cab that has shown up in the last fifteen minutes. Then, upon being dropped off at a different bus stop in town and rushing onto a bus, it is entirely possible that the driver of that bus may decide to go about 10 mph throughout the entire route. Meanwhile, it is entirely possible that every person over the age of 65 who is incapable of moving quickly will have lined up at nearly every stop along said route--one person at each stop, so that the bus is constantly having to stop. After all of this, it is possible for a person to finally arrive at the train station and find themselves on a train that randomly stops twice in between stations. Then, as the train comes into the station the person was going to, it's entirely possible that said person may receive a phone call from the friends they're meeting informing that the bus that needs to be caught from that final train station has arrived five minutes early and that driver is unwilling to wait those five minutes for the last person, thus causing that bus to be missed. This person then finally arrives at their destination over an hour later than intended, three hours after having left home.

I'm so glad this is yet to happen to me and my roommates--oh wait. It did. That was how our Saturday trip to Featherdale Wildlife Reserve began. But we did eventually get to Featherdale. Was it worth all the effort? Hell yes. You see, upon entering the reserve, we immediately saw all sorts of animals that one only sees in Australia. All sorts of fantastic birds, massive lizards, flying foxes (bats), koalas, wombats, kangaroos, emus, a massive crocodile, Tasmanian devils, dingos, and penguins. And that's just to name a few. And the best part? Most of the kangaroos and emus we free roaming through a large section of the park. As in, they're just running around where you're walking. You get to pet them and feed them. It was fantastic. And surreal.

Also, I've officially been in the same room as the deadliest snake in the world--yikes!

And that croc was freakin' massive. And there was an albino kangaroo. And one of the Tasmanian devils kept running around on this path it had created in its pin. It kept running and running and running in this big circle for the entirety of the few hours we were there. I got to pet a joey in a bag (used in place of a pouch for the orphan joey).

Through all of this, I took several digital photos which I'll put up on Facebook in the near future. I also took a full roll of film at Featherdale--really looking forward to developing/printing it.

By the time we left Featherdale, I was pretty tired. We ended up with a bit of a different group than normal--Nick, Ryan, Pat, Lainey, Paul, Toby, Sam, and myself. We went to a mall together, where we wandered about for a bit. Then, Nick, Ryan, and I headed home. On the way, we came across an ice cream truck that was playing Greensleeves (totally random, but rather awesome). Then we got home where Ross was hosting a good-sized party for Ilie's birthday--Illie's his Hungarian girlfriend, not sure I've mentioned her before. As Ross ran around making sure everything was ready, Santiago arrived back home--he'd been in Melbourne all week on a business trip. I won't go into detail, but a large yelling match occurred between Ross and Santi. Sigh. This is a fairly regular occurrence and there doesn't seem to be a good solution to fix the troubles that occasionally brew. I suspect I'll be interrogated by Erin and Kim on Monday, as I witnessed the whole event. Sigh. Why can't we all just get along?

Anywho, the barbie was great. Ross made lots of lamb, pork, and chicken. Ilie had made some incredible potato salad. The company were mostly Illie's family, but some of Ross's as well. He had sparklers and Nick and I took a couple down into the darkness of the miniature bush behind the house with those as our only lights. Intense darkness and sparklers is great fun. During all this, Dom joined us and I asked him if he'd had a good day. "No, mate," he responded. "To be perfectly honest, it was shit. But it happens. Tomorrow will be better, you know?"

A bit later, we turned in for the night. And that's that.

Oh, and the quote that is this blog's title is a song that Ross's daughter Danielle was singing to her youngest daughter. It's the Australian version. It makes me laugh.

Long Day's Journey Into Night....

Shortly after the day began, I found myself standing in front of a painting by Imants Tillers entitled "White Aborigines." This was a disturbing painting of chaotic blue, white, and pink colors covering 100 small canvas board panels. Black streaks created figures within the chaos, though these too were chaotic. The painting was frantic. It was hard to focus on one image at a time. The painting was violent. No happy faces here. Some German phrase crossed the bottom of the painting--I don't know what it said. It was a dark painting. And it began my day.

Yes, I'd begun my day at the Museum of Contemporary Art. After nearly 3 hours there, Nick and I headed out to the Rocks to find snacks. A wonderful coconut and jam pastry satisfied me. And then it was time to meet our friends. Tess, Anna, Kara, Reza, and Olivia. We wanted to find a place for a relatively cheap dinner. After a long trek across central Sydney, with discoveries of closed restaurants, we finally found our way to the Shark Hotel, the same place where a group from my homestay had gone "clubbing" back the first weekend here. The room was complete different in the daytime. It had a buffet for about $10, and it was glorious.

You see, at the Ross Frazer homestay, we have a group of 7 guys. Ross does not believe in salad. In fact, he doesn't really believe in vegetables in general. And he doesn't think guys in general are interested in such things. Most of what we eat on a regular basis is meat. It's good, but it's beginning to get old. It's also doing weird things to all of our stomachs. So, when I say that I didn't eat a single piece of meat at this buffet, you should understand something: it was an event. I loaded my plate with salad fixings, some Chinese noodles, humus, potatoes, and carrots. The combination is strange, I know. But it tasted incredible. I got happily full without a single shred of meat.

The conversation over dinner was good, crossing all sorts of topics--from relationships to 9/11. And then it was time to head to the bus stop to get to NIDA (National Institute of Dramatic Art), where Nick, Anna, Tess, and I had tickets to see the finalists of Short + Sweet, a 10 minute play festival--a group of Wesley students were participating, thus how we had heard about it. So, we're in a hurry to make sure we get to the theatre on time. And we're following Reza, who is using his iPhone to guide us to the right bus stop. And we're running late.

Thus, we moved quickly through the city, traveling several blocks. We finally get to the stop, only to discover that Reza's phone had messed up. We'd gone in the wrong direction. With only minutes before our bus is going to be arriving, we took off sprinting through Sydney. Block after block, we ran. Uphill, downhill, through the dense humidity of the Australian air. As we weaved our way through crowds, Reza frantically tried to find the right bus stop. We finally saw it ahead. And we also saw our bus turning into the street, heading towards the bus stop. We sprinted as fast as possible, trying to get to the stop before the bus left. God bless the old man who got on the bus and had not pre-payed and was having trouble getting the correct change out. We got on the bus. And Reza told the driver, "Drop these guys at NIDA, please."

And the driver said, "NIDA? You need to catch a bus on the other side of the road. Wrong direction."

Crap. Thus, we got off the bus, crossed the road, and waited... and waited... and waited.... And no bus of use to us came. Finally, we grabbed a cab. Nick struck up a conversation with the Indian cabdriver, and we got to NIDA just in time to pick up our tickets and head into the theatre.

The shows covered several different styles and genres--from dramatic dance to pseudo-existentialism to commedia delle'arte (the Wesley guys!). They varied in quality, greatly, the highlights for me being: a play about people trapped in a prison with no explanation (which had a crappy ending unfortunately--turned out they were lobsters. Lame.), a play about talking down someone from suicide (really powerful), a play about an autistic man meeting a woman on top of a building and falling in love (quite humorous and touching), and the Wesley guys showed great range and storytelling with their commedia piece.

There were awards given after the festival--the Wesley guys got $1000! And then it was time to head back home. We caught a bus and then a train all together. Then, Nick and I said goodnight to Anna and Tess, and caught another bus home, and it was 1 in the morning by the time we got there.

Throughout all of our adventures, there were many conversations, as we broke down barriers and began getting to know each other better. By the end of the day, we were all exhausted. It had been a long one, but a fun one. And I had a blast.