Sydney Stuff

Bondi Beach Gang 

Three loves: Camera, a good beach and a good pair of sunglasses. 

Manly Beach Gang 

Manly Ladies (Manly Beach, Sydney 2005) 

My Hunky Aussie 

This Way to Blue Mountains! 

Romy and Michelle get touristey in Sydney 

Sydney Bunnies 

The Cast of Overcast Skies

Darling Wind at Darling Harbor 

#67: [Day 1: Sydney 2005] We Made it Through the Rain

We arrived in Sydney yesterday morning around 7ish. And that was the last time "ish" would mean something. We were to learn that here, (as with all other countries except the Philippines), minutes are actually counted. The train arrives at 7:03 in Mt. Druitt. If you miss it, there's a 7:09 one. Or a 7:27. Wow.

It was pouring when we stepped out of the airport. Sydney was apparently feeling very British yesterday, hence the mad rain and gray skies. The cab driver apologized for the weather and that actually kept me from suing him for the mess. Besides, he was driving us to Darling Harbor in a Silver Cab at white cab fares. I don't know if he wanted us to feel privileged or if it was just his way of letting us know that he's itching to get our wet butts off his seats so businessmen in dark coats and scowls could already pay him what "Silver Cabs" deserve. So the AUD43.00 he charged us was already the proletariat rate? You could send a child to school in the Philippines for a month or two with that money.

In the afternoon, we went to the IMAX Theater to... uhm... sleep. Really. Man, don't ever go there when you're in Sydney. Or if someone insists, at least don't watch "Aliens of the Deep." Believe me. It's not a horror flick. No aliens eating earthling guts in 3D there. It's a documentary... on deep water creatures. Yeesh.

After that, it was off to Sydney Aquarium. I'm not really a fan of fishes but I guess it's better that I see them behind glass than around me while snorkeling/diving. (I promise you, I cannot dive. I will freak out, pass out and eventually die.) Elna loved the whole thing. She actually took videos of fishes... which is pretty weird since they have a real live aquarium at home. They must really love aquatic life. Heck, I would've used the film to create backdrops for videoke songs. Hehe.

At Ian's home, a welcome dinner was waiting for us. Since we missed the Express train that leaves at 7:24pm and were forced to take the Semi-Express one which leaves at 7:29, we held up dinner and came home to a group of people who had probably already started developing ulcers. Eep.

Day 1's cast of characters:
1. Ian: Ex-boss, very, very gracious host, Sydney tourmeister. Has elevated this trip to the level of science. His attention to detail is superb. His precision is bordering on scary. He is singlehandedly threatening the financial viability of publishing the "Offical Guide to Sydney."

2. Carlo: Old lunchmate from Globe who is now based in Melbourne. Refuses to speak in Aussie twang because he can't get "G'Day Mate" right.

3. Andrew: Soft-spoken geography teacher who treated us to coffee that damp afternoon. "Just around the corner" to him is actually 3 major blocks in normal human-speak. He's a dear though. Drove us back to Ian's office so we could make it to the Semi-Express train home. (I mean, who wants to take the "Not-Express-At-All" train? That's like next to the "What-does-Express-Mean? Train.")

4. Lyn: Andrew's girlfriend. Lovely person who allowed us into her apartment for us to have a fabulous view of the city. She doesn't know it yet but we've started selling tickets to her place as part of the Sydney Tour package - right after a visit to the AMP Tower.

5. Sam: Store Attendant who sold me a new pair of shoes. I blame his salesmanship for the expensive purchase. He had me at "Kamusta?" (Come on. Give me a break. My feet were soaked to the core. I NEEDED those new shoes.)

6. Cathy: Old officemate from Globe who used to help me make/remake/then-remake-again business cases for marketing projects. She now makes tuna-mac-&-cheese not with grated cheese but with cheese slices. She can also fry frozen fish fillet and chicken nuggets like a pro. Very accommodating.

7. Cecil: Old officemate from Globe as well whom I never really got to talk to back then. His first word after the first round of "Hi's" - "Seatbelts." Acc. to Ian, he's the one responsible for the monstrous flat-screen TV living in their living room. Nice dude.

8. Monica: Newest addition to Ian's house. No, she's not furniture. But she reads ice cream labels to validate her reaction to the product itself. So cute you'd want to adopt her. By the way, she's 23.

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A stellar cast.
No wonder we made it easily through the rain.
End of Day 1.

Changi, Books and I

#66: [Day 0: Sydney 2005] Already Shopping?

I'm at Changi Airport again. It was just a few months ago when I was at the same spot making use of the airport's free internet access to write my blog about heading off to Europe. This airport is cool. Within 30 minutes of landing I've gotten myself two books from two different bookstores. I'm a book junkie and I have a feeling that if they lock me up here a bit longer, I will be broke by the time I reach Australia. (Broke with a truckload of books.)

I blinked twice (or thrice) before getting Malcolm Gladwell's 2nd book, "Blink." It talks about the art of thinking without thinking. A few gazes by the sunglasses area (I still can't get over the fact that I lost my favorite pair of shades in Bangkok), then it was off to the bigger bookstore. A book about Carlos Ghosn or a book that will make me an expert in cultural branding faster? Hmm. I chose to delude myself and popped S$54.00 to be an expert in my discipline within a couple of days. Great. Day 0 and already two books which, combined, will allow me to NOT think about creating a cultural branding phenomenon with juices. Perfect.

Let's see if Sydney will feed more of my delusions. Or of my addiction to books. Or my propensity to shop till I am brought to the brink of poverty. (Hey, can I just clarify that books don't count? The currency you use for buying books is imaginary. Just as the things you get from them just go straight to your brain without any evidence of actually existing.)

No Shopaholics allowed in Sydney.

One Day More

#65: Countdown to Sydney

Don't you just love that song "One Day More" from Les Miserables?
ValJean's deep voice would thunder "One day more..." and you'd instinctively wait for your cue to sing Marius's line, "I did not live until today..."

Okay, that's probably too melodramatic but hey, there's only one day more before our flight to Sydney and while I know it's not supposed to change any destiny and that we had actually been living before today (hence, none of ValJean's nor Marius's lines really mean anything to us), I just feel like drumming the excitement up a little bit.

Elna, my travel companion and very dear friend from way back in High School, has already packed her stuff. I called her last Thursday and she answered the phone panting. She was apparently trying to "layer" her clothes for autumn in Australia in the heat of the Philippine summer. Way to go. I just tossed a couple of jackets and scarves in my suitcase and figured everything will pack itself by Tuesday morning.

I still have two presentations, two contracts, one performance plan and one brand analysis to think of before I can feel guilt-free about being all Romy-and-Michelle about this trip. (No one say Paris and Nicole, please. Pam Skaist-Levy and Gela Taylor, maybe, but not Paris and Nicole. )

One day more...


Ready for Action 

To You...

#64: From Someone I No Longer Know

By the time you find me, I will already be old.
You will no longer meet the idealist that once inhabited this skin. Nor will you see the fire that used to burn in these eyes. My smile will already bear the ghosts of forgotten dreams; my laugh, the strains of disappointments past. I don't know if I will still bounce like a fool in a moment of freedom, now that my feet are shackled to the earth by the present that never ends.

Will you ever even know me?

Expand Your World

#63: Journey from Cheese Roll to Curry

This Friday night is different. Normal ones usually consist of a group of 3-5 very close friends yakking heads and hearts out over dinner and dessert. A few days ago, I decided that this particular one should be used to expand worlds.

Chewing on a cheese roll (this soft, sweet bread a bakery nearby sells for Php2.00 a piece) two Saturdays ago, I realized that I haven't been meeting many interesting new people lately. The ones I've been meeting are always connected to work one way or another. And I'm not sure we'd all want to hang out with each other for over 12 hours.

7 of my friends. 4 of Roy's. It's not a fair exchange but at least it's aligned with the objective of "widening social circles." Masas didn't have a table for 13. Nor for 10. Heck, Masas didn't have any free table at all. (Dang. And I've been dreaming of their Bistek Tagalog all week.) And so Chimara it was. It's a Vegan Fast Food joint which serves otherwise inedible stuff in edible forms. Sampaloc-tasting Green Tea, Tofu-Onion Soup and Meatless Taco, anyone?

The movie was Hitch - which is a good choice if you want everyone to feel that they've had a good night out even if they hadn't been able to gel that well with the people that were present. Roy's 2 doctor-dudes went home immediately after the movie. (Better quit while you're ahead, I guess.) 2 of my girl-friends from Globe left a few minutes after. (Hmm. You think they met up with the two MDs somewhere else?)

Bollywood was the last stop. To be honest, I loved the place. It was thematic and very charming. The music was very engaging too. (Well, at least for me.) I noticed after 45 minutes or so that I was the only one still "grooving" to Indian songs and eating roti drenched in curry. The rest were barely awake. That or itching to leave. Roy, for one, ended up sitting very far away from his date. When the Indian band started playing the song used by Ginebra San Miguel in their "Bilog Ang Mundo" TV ad, his date grabbed her hair and squealed. With all the noise, we thought she finally snapped and the music finally drove her nuts. Above the cacophony, Roy explained that she just loved that particular beat. Cool.
Me: "Shall we all dance then?"
Everyone: "No."
Roy: "Check please."

20 pairs of kohl-lined eyes watched the group scurry out. I would've wanted to stay longer. But I guess, unlike misery, weirdness doesn't love company. Not even on a Friday night.

Bollywood, I'll be back.

Call of the Durian

#63: Davao and Back

I just got back from Davao. Lovely place. (At least from what I've seen within less than 24 hours.) The highlight of this trip was not the work-related stuff but dinner at Jack's Ridge. It's this place at the top of the hill with an awesome view of the city. (Well, awesome until my friend told me it actually also overlooks a cemetery. Gee. Thanks for ruining my dramatic moment.)

We took a cab from the Marco Polo Hotel to that place. The driver crossed 2 major lanes just to offer us a ride before another cab swooped us and our cabfare away. The windows were open, allowing us to take in cool Davao evening air while talking about Korean Telenovelas. Over the hill, then down. We had to halt talking about Cholo and Jodie and why they always cry when they see each other because the driver seemed to not know where he was going. Well, he knew alright, he snapped, just in time to catch himself from completely dozing off and sending all three of us to our graves over the cliff.

Dinner was fine - except that my officemate ordered (of all things), Pakbet, an Ilocano dish with squash, bitter gourd and a host of other weird-looking vegetables. Come on. Who the heck orders Pakbet when the company is paying for your meal? I almost didn't want him to touch the Lechon Kawali I ordered to punish him for ordering the vile thing.

My Davaeno friend treated us to dessert at Karl's Coffee Place. Pretty cool. They had good music (i.e., not the barrio music I'm used to hearing whenever I go to other areas of the Philippines); and brownies that were cream-colored instead of brown. Best brownies I've had in a long time. Or should I say, "whiteys"?

The following day, presidential bodyguards were creeping all over our hotel. Apparently, the President was there. Great. A president not exactly loved by the majority at a terrorist-infested area of the Philippines... at our hotel too. We escaped rolling down the hill to our bloody end the night before all to now face the possibility of rebels climbing up our hotel and blowing us all to bloody bits. Lovely.

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Well, since I am blogging right now, you know none of those bloody things happened. (Am I using "bloody" too bloody often?) I loved the little that I saw of Davao and would very much love to return. Their airport is new, very clean and relatively modern for Philippine standards. (It's so much better than the pathetic thing we call Manila Domestic Airport. Heck, it's even better than our Ninoy Aquino International Airport.) The roads are so much better than the main roads in Cebu and the food is so much cheaper too.

I heard there's an island called Samal that's 15 minutes off the coast of Davao. That's another reason I want to go back. Or should I say, another reason I should go back. I guess that and the "pasalubongs" I didn't get to buy the first time around.

Avert Mission

#62: What are you looking at?

Run…run like mad. Lift… till you can lift no more. Grit your teeth. Exhale correctly. Look straight. Ew. Sweaty guy with mismatched gym clothes staring. Avert eyes. Pull…8x, 9, 10, two more, 12. Smile victoriously inside. Realize that you’ve smiled till the outside. Guy with weird hair and muscle-covered face sees. Discontinue smile. Avert eyes. Guy with dimples but hibiscus-printed shorts tries to make eye contact. Avert eyes. Look at your shoes. Decide you need new ones.

Drive… or float to work. Text to tell the boss you’ll be a bit late. Darn traffic. Put on eyeliner. Or at least try. Catch person at the back of a truck curiously looking. Avert eyes. Continue unembarrassed. Darn traffic. Sing. No, belt. And whip head to the right. Then to the left. Driver on opposite lane sees and gives a strange look. Dare to make eye contact. Challenge him to give so much as a smirk. When he averts his eyes, smile inside. No, laugh.