7:30am – Wake up to the good morning trifecta of sunlight, heat and train.

8:30am – Walk to the train enjoying a Coke while listening to Gomez.

8:37am – The train is so crowded that I don’t get a handgrip and am bounced around like a dog in the backseat of a rally car.

8:51am – Read the headlines on the TV in the elevator while my ears pop going up to the 29th floor.

9:11am – Meeting with the VP who shows me the underground shopping mall in the building while on the way to get a coffee.

10:33am – Meeting with the HR Manager to review my file as I hold the world’s biggest piss and end up looking like I’m humming and squinting at the same time.

11:41am – Sweet relief. I may have avoided permanent damage.

1:04pm – Get lost in the underground shopping mall in the building and have to go outside to walk around the block and back in the front door.

1:59pm – Meeting with the Underwriter in a café across the street and I can’t pronounce her name properly. “Hi Craig”, “Hello….Yourself”. Why didn’t I just ask?

3:04pm – The caffeine shakes are in full tilt and I’m suspicious that the staff might think that the new Canadian guy might have a mild case of epilepsy.

3:07pm – Meeting with my boss who just got to work because he was out playing paintball with a few brokers (I couldn't make that up if I tried).

4:11pm – Contemplate, write out, proof read and record my voicemail message. (6 takes)

4:30pm – Review a stimulating compliance manual. Lucky for me the caffeine makes it more like “Boggle” and less like review.

5:37pm – Successfully navigate the underground to the train station.

5:56pm – Home.

Read More...

Considering that my holidays are over and this has been my last week before my new job starts, I did what every Canadian man would do. I grew a hideous moustache. It is a true Canadian tradition in times of glory. Take the Stanley Cup Playoffs for example. Grown men searching for hockey glory knowing that their time will end will grow facial hair to honour the hours spent in said glory. Look at every picture of the Stanley Cup champions and it is 20 hairy men crowding an over sized silver cup reveling in uncontrollable happiness. It is like a reverse countdown of sorts that honours those with the biggest nest of facial hair not for the hair but for the amount of time spent in bliss. Men wear it like a Badge of Freedom that states "I am so comfortable in my state of bliss that I care not for your petty thoughts about style". No one keeps the awful beards after the event because women hate it and think it's stupid but that isn’t the point. I have been growing a beard since I officially accepted the job and recently shaved but left the stache. It is awfully good. Just like hockey players shave after the playoffs, I too will succumb to today’s societal pressures to not look like a 70’s porn star. Tomorrow I will stroll into the office clean shaven with my head held high for I know that someday I will wear the Badge again.

Read More...

Lately it almost seems that this city has a size complex. Within two days Sydney has welcomed two behemoths of the travel industry. First in town is the Sun Princess that is the largest luxury liner to ever sail under the Sydney Harbour Bridge. The Sun Princess boasts some impressive statistics like 77,400 tonnes, 856 feet long and 164 feet tall. It barely cleared the bridge at all and I'm sure that it was too close for comfort for the organizers. 2.5 metres to spare! Someone had to change their shorts.

Today the world's largest passenger jet flew it's maiden voyage from Singapore to Sydney. This "super jumbo" jet is the Airbus answer to the Boeing 747. The A380 weighs 850 tonnes and can carry 853 passengers. It is loaded with 12 luxury suites that each have a 30 inch flat screen plasma TV's. It is said that this jet will revolutionize air travel.

In other news, I flew to Australia in a 24 year old rust bucket Focker. It comes standard with 7 crying children (2 teething), 4 chatty Cathy's armed with photo albums, 2 overworked stewardesses that are a little less than lovely and a blanket that has a hint of barf.

Read More...

It was a classic NBL (National Basketball League) match up. Adelaide 36ers versus Sydney Kings or more commonly known as Aiva versus Craig. This professional league is reasonably popular and the quality was pretty good. Maybe NCAA Division 2 basketball would be competitive. There was a sparse amount of black players as Adelaide didn't have any but Sydney has two and one of them just came over from America. Each team can have one "import" and it is fairly easy to guess which player is the import considering Australia's black population is close to zero. The crowd loved the game and kids loved the mascot while we mocked the cheerleaders because they were so bad that they were good. The hometown Kings pulled away for most of the game and Aiva got into putting down her Adelaide team with ferocity. It wasn't that Sydney was beating them, it was that the Adelaide players were bums. She would be a perfect Maple Leafs fan. The final buzzer sounded with the crowd happy at the 20 point victory. I think that we will take in more games in the future since tickets are only 10 bucks and I have no problem doing the seat hop. This is a skill that Shane and I mastered at the Skydome to see the Jays play although it is a little more embarrassing getting bumped out of a seat when you are 30 years old.

Read More...

If you have lived in Erskineville for any amount of time you have noticed the hunched old timer at The Rose Hotel and Pub. Every morning he is sitting outside doing the newspaper crossword and sipping a beer. Sometimes he is there by 8am and I have seen him 4 times a week since I've been here. It is like a strange familiar face that I have never met. I decided that since my days are numbered before work starts (4) I would have try the "Rex Special". I dragged my ass out of bed and up the street to The Rose paper in hand. Admittedly, I was hoping that he would take a day off considering that it had clouded over but he didn't disappoint. It was 9:45am and he was half done the crossword already! Apparently a man of few words, I said "Mornin'" and received a curt nod. I got a beer and inquired at the bar about the old timer that is here every morning. "Rex. Loves crosswords". It seemed everyone was chatty this morning so I settled into a chair outside and started reading my newspaper until I got to the crossword. I really enjoyed it far more that I thought I would. My brain was thinking hard but I was mellowing out. I'm not sure about the beer that early and I think that a coffee might suit me better. The point is that I can cross the "Rex Special" off my Australia "To Do" list and it was everything that I hoped it would be.

17 Down - North Australian Fish - 10 letters..................Barramundi.

Read More...

This week marks the anniversary of my Dad's death from cancer. It is a strange sensation thinking that I have been alive longer without my Dad than with him. I was in high school at the time and it was a really tough thing to deal with obviously. The photos are of my Dad at 17 when he graduated high school and me at 30 for work.

This morning I woke up and actually felt pretty good. I thought about all the amazing memories of fishing in the summer and hockey in the winter. Some of these memories are twenty years old now and are starting to get a little fuzzy. A great thing that I have learned from my group of friends is that only the key points in any story matter and you can make up the rest depending on the audience. This modification leads to significantly better storytelling. So I can't specifically remember playing 2 on 2 driveway basketball but I can remember what my Dad's hightops looked like and I can remember that he would always win with a hook shot so the rest is just filler. I think that its better this way because I can basically remember those times anyway that I want. I could even win with a hook shot if I wanted but I'll let Dad win this time. I can remember weird specific things. If I really concentrate I can feel him tightening my skates, I can hear him starting the fishing boat motor and I can smell the sauna being lit. Nowadays, my family is so small that last year at Christmas we didn't even have to put in the dining room table leaf. I think this is a good thing because we all seem to know each other as people and not just as family. Sure I miss my Dad, I mean who wouldn't miss a 15 time Father Of The Year but the truly amazing part is that my Step Father (I hate that title by the way) is also a great man. He too has won 15 Father Of The Year Titles in my books. What are the chances of having had the two best Dads in the whole world in my life? Maybe I'm a little more lucky than I thought. I have had a great day thinking about my family and all these "so called" memories but for the first time since moving to Australia I am truly aware of how very far from home I am.

Read More...

Ten of us went to see Miss Saigon this weekend. When I say "see" I really mean see, smell and feel because we were in the second row. I'm pretty sure that the conductor's sweat flicked off his baton into my eye during the "Embassy" scene and I could feel the tuba throughout. I vaguely remember when I was a kid my Grandpa telling me to always wear black and white to the theatre or the symphony. I'm not even 100% sure if he told me that but he was a gentleman and I figure that you can't go wrong with black and white so that's what I wore. As usual I tried to take a few photos in places that you aren't supposed to and got promptly told by an usher to delete them. Miss Saigon is a tragic love story set in 1973-78 war torn Vietnam. This bomb laden, napalm smelling backdrop gives an interesting contrast to an unlikely love story. The side story is about American G.I.'s off their leash and Vietnamese citizens doing anything to get to America. Admittedly, it took about 30 minutes for me to get interested in the musical because all of the opening acts are about the love story (I'm a guy, sue me). The show quickly picked up and when the 30 foot statue of Ho Chi Minh dropped from the ceiling I actually found myself thinking about the 15 million lives that were lost during the war. By the helicopter scene I didn't care that my butt was numb and wanted to jump out of my seat to help boost people over the barbed wire fence. I guess that I really liked it because I woke up humming American Dream. This clip is performed by the Sydney cast that we saw.

Read More...

I accepted a job offer today and I can’t help but be a little melancholy.

It is with great regret that I report the passing of Holiday Craig. At 4:50pm October 18, 2007 Holiday Craig accepted an employment offer that could not be refused. He was in a café among friends and at peace during his final hours. Holiday Craig orchestrated a two-month campaign of fun and sightseeing that had farmers running to the fields to see if money did actually grow on trees. Unfortunately, it does not. He spent his short lifetime learning to love his new surroundings and enjoying every facet of Sydney life. Holiday Craig enjoyed exploring the Australian outdoors on his bicycle. He could often be seen during the hottest part of the day peddling away any worries. Sadly, he knew that his days were numbered, as Holiday Craig was born without an automatically refilling bank account. There was nothing the doctors could do to refill his broken bank account. His alter ego Responsible Craig said “I wish there was a way that we can all lead a lifetime filled with the happiness that he had in just a few short months”. There will be a small service for friends and family at The Rose Hotel and Pub near the pool table. Quarters will be provided. In lieu of flowers, friends are asked to hoist a beer and tell a great story or two. Holiday Craig was 71 days old.

Read More...

Luckily for me I don't get nervous for job interviews. I'm already sweating enough from the heat and yesterday's sunburn. Today's interview was a follow-up and the questions were more specific and analytical. The most trying question didn't come from the interview but from my closet. What suit and tie combo did I wear to the first interview? Bloody hell, I couldn't remember and I didn't want to double up. They would then low ball me with the salary offer because they would think that I was broke. I didn't have to be there until 11am which was nice not to rush in the morning but the heat was already in full force. I was sweating before I even got to the station and I couldn't help but picture my mom laying in pool of her own sweat debating whether it would be easier to drown or to melt. I lucked out and got a window seat which was still warm from the fresh ass that had just left it. That's a personal favourite on a hot day. After the interview I didn't feel like sticking around the CBD so I just went home. On the way home I had an epic game of Brickerbreaker on my Blackberry. I am sore from cycling so much that it would be a perfect day to play Nintendo Contra all day in a dark cold basement, eating poutine and drinking coke. Unfortunately, I'm lacking the "nintendo" "contra" "dark" "cold" "basement" "poutine" and "coke" parts. I guess I'll go for a walk in the heat.

PS - I have been checking the weather in Thunder Bay, just so you know.

Read More...

If you have one day to cycle in Sydney and want to get the whole feel then I just did the ride for you. It starts with an hour long train ride through the Central Business District (CBD), past Circular Quay to see the Opera House, over the Sydney Harbour Bridge, continuing north for 40 more kilometres. Nothing says "International City" like a smelly train so take it in. The ride itself starts in Waitara through some green burbs to feel out how the legs are doing. Pretty soon is Garigal National Park where you will have an 11km descent that is sort of like cliff jumping and running out of breath during your yell but you still have time to take another breath and yell some more before hitting the water. The terrain is very jungle like and unique to Australia. Your legs will start to hurt soon but you will be noticing all the interesting houses that are build into the side of the mountain and supported on stilts (I stopped at an Open House to snap a few pics of the view and the stilts but it was over). Your jungle ride is soon over and you are now into an ocean ride with more beaches than you know what to do with. You will literally begin think "burning hot sun, burning hot sand, endless blue sky, endless blue water.....movin' on". Narrabeen, Collaroy, Dee Why, Queen's Cliff are all on the route and are pretty much interchangeable beach burbs. I did swim at Dee Why because there was a lifeguard. It seemed like a better idea since there were 2 shark attacks in Australia yesterday (nowhere near here).

Along the coast the bus and bike lane is painted red so you will pretty much have an entire lane to yourself which is really nice. I'm not sure if Transportation Australia picked red specifically or red was just easier because so many cyclists had already been hit.

Manly is up next and is the standing beach burb champion. It has more cafes per capita than anywhere else in Australia (it's possible that fact is true). It will be so damn hot and there will be no shade so peal off the jersey and take a dip. I favoured the Rock Pool which was pretty neat and without the waves I was able to float like a log. The salt water made it like wearing a wetsuit. Local Law for Females: I'm pretty sure that one piece swimsuits are outlawed here because I didn't see one. Unless you count just bottoms as a one piece....then I saw a bunch. From Manly, take a ferry (that holds 1000 people!) back to Circular Quay and take in the amazing view the whole way.

Read More...

The day started with a text from Aiva "Morning, its beautiful riding weather. A nice breeze. See you around 6 this eve. Can you take some minced meat out of the freezer". I'm thinking to myself that if an Aussie says that it's beautiful outside then I better go for a long ride. I hopped on the train and ended up at the Sutherland Station, 31km south of downtown. The route was set to hit a few big hills and tour through Royal National Park which is the second oldest park in the world next to Yellowstone. I stepped out of the train into a downpour. My racing bike has never seen rain in it's lifespan and it took coming to a country that has 300 days of cloudless sunshine a year to get wet. The park had huge Eucalypts with an undercarriage of Gymea Lilies that lined the road which gave it a very jungle-like feeling. I was very aware that the winding road was mostly downhill and there seemed to be an awful lot of wreaths and crosses on the shoulder. Then I started to notice car sized holes in the guard rails and treeline. If someone or something went over a guard rail here I'm pretty sure that they would end up in Cambodia. I was screaming down Mount Bass and really starting to get cold when I got to Bundeena which was the coastal destination. My hands were so cold that I couldn't move them and I had to take my gloves off to snap a few gray, rainy photos. I found the closest cafe a ordered a "mucha" when I noticed that I couldn't find a glove. While patting myself down I explained to the coffee guy that "I think that I lost a glove" when he calmly said "Are you quite sure that you had two gloves?". No tip.

I was soon back on the road when I could see the sheet of rain coming right at me thanks to the new "walking on an angle strength" wind. I started to climb Mount Bass when the rain really hit. I couldn't see through my sunglasses and the rain was stinging my eyes. I was quickly becoming cold and miserable. The road was getting so slick that my back wheel was slipping out climbing uphill like a mountain bike on loose gravel. To make things worse, the geniuses at Transportation Australia decided that painting SLOW and 50 in huge letters on the hairpin corners would improve traction when needed most. Mercifully, the hills ended and I was cruising into town when I realized that the rain had let up and there was barely any noise. My racing wheels were on brand new, slick pavement. I had the strange sensation like I was sailing. Then to interrupt my peaceful moment some crazy bird started dive bombing my helmet. It pecked it 3 times before it disappeared. I got to the train and I was a sweaty yet freezing, miserable mess. This was clearly one of the worst rides in recent memory. I had just had one of those days where nothing works out and that is just the way it is. I hope that I'll laugh about it tomorrow. To finish the full story, I was in the shower when I remembered to take the minced meat out of the freezer.

Read More...

Have you ever been telling a funny story when half way through someone new walks in and you have to start over? Later in the night someone else wants to here the story. Eventually you have told the story so many times in such a short period that the punchline of "We cheated death and barely survived!!" turns into "we were fine". With that in mind, I have been to 6 interviews this week and it is only Thursday. That's not counting the 104 question psych test I did this morning. I started out excited but somewhere between yesterday when I did a phone interview while on a packed train and this morning's psych test I have become brain numb. Luckily, I didn't have an interview this afternoon because I'm pretty sure that all that I could muster up would have been "I have people skills damn it!" For the first time in my life I think that I am sick of talking about myself.

Read More...

These are some photos of Thunder Bay, Ontario near the end of September and early October. They are from Sleeping Giant Provincial Park and the Canadian north shore. Thanks to my friends that sent some of the photos.

Read More...

Two months have passed since I came to Australia. I have learned so much about myself it makes me wonder what I was doing before this. Today's entry isn't quite that deep. I've noticed certain things about Australia that are different and I think that they are worth mentioning. This isn't a list that states the obvious like "cars drive on the wrong side" but more subtle things.

--You can't just order a coffee. It's either a flat white (cappuccino), short black (espresso) or long black (I think a "regular" coffee). I was hoping that the long black was a can of Guinness so you can imagine my disappointment. If you order a mocha, it is pronounced mucha. There simply isn't just a brewed pot of coffee warming on a burner. I just order smoothies now anyway.

--Coke tastes like Pepsi and the Pepsi tastes like Coke Zero and Coke Zero as a whole tastes like crap. You can't find a pop over here that burns your nostrils when you burp. Not that I test pop that way, it's just an observation. Cans also come in 18 or 30 packs not 12 or 24. Consider for a moment that I don't have a car.

--If the temperature is between 24C and 26C people are picnicking in the park. 23C to 18C people are wearing scarves and complaining (called whinging) how fresh it is. Below 18C and people are wearing pea coats with toques and complaining that they might as well move to Canada. 27C to 30C and people are whinging about the heat and closing curtains. 30C to 34C is so hot that there is moisture on the inside of the train windows much like the inside of a shower. Above 35C and people are playing a human version of Frogger from shade to shade dodging the sunshine.

--There is only English text on all products. Admittedly, I only notice this in the shower when I stare at the back of shampoo bottles but it is quite nice. When I see French on things it is a constant reminder of my 52% in Grade 9 French class.

--Canadian DVDs won't work on other DVD players. This royally sucks. Each DVD has a region and can only be played by a player from that region. So I can't play Australian and Canadian DVDs on my Mac without changing the settings and Apple only lets me do that 4 times.

--Canadian cell phones can work over here. Bring your phone over and just buy a new prepaid SIM card. If you are locked into a network (Rogers ie the devil) there are companies that will break it for you for 40 bucks which is a lot cheaper than a new phone over here.

--Australians love to protest. Strangely, the topic has to be about anything not to do with Australia. Sure there are rare domestic cases but mostly Aussies protest about worldly topics. Get rid of Bush, China's lack of pressure on Burma, human rights in Asia, just to name a few in the news. It seems that there is no point in protesting about climate change, fresh water or health care.

--No one watches any Australian TV show that wasn't originally made in the US. That latest shows here are Spelling Bee, Australian Idol, 1 vs 100, that ridiculous one where Neanderthals pick boxes from scantily clad models (Deal or no Deal). Late night comedy shows are the lone exception.

--If you need dental work on your two front teeth just say aloud "Maybe the dingo ate your baby".

These are some of the small but significant things that I have learned in two months. Man, I need a job.

Read More...

This week has been huge for Australian sports. Last week was Super Saturday which is pretty much like Superbowl Sunday except they have the Aussie Rules Football (AFL) finals in the afternoon and Rugby League finals (NRL) at night. Last night was the Rugby World Cup (Rugby Union), England vs. Australia. I personally enjoy AFL the best because it seems like a more flowing skillful game but no matter which type you enjoy most there will be a lineup of people telling you that you’re wrong. People here are very stubborn about their footy. I just say that I like “footy” because it can mean any of the three and this seems to appease the raging fans with pitchforks. Each team has its own song that is painfully lame. Here is a brief sample: "We are Geelong, the greatest team of all, we are Geelong; we're always on the ball". It’s almost as bad as listening to Celine Dion singing a half French and half English version of the Canadian national anthem.

I have been watching these sports with girls who aren’t what I would call "diehard sports fans". I don’t know the rules yet so I ask a lot of questions so that I can understand the game a little better. I asked, “Ok, before we start what are the rules?” The response I got was “Their shorts used to be a lot tighter”……wow. I started reading the rules on the Internet after that. I saw this guy get knocked out cold by a high tackle, I mean really drilled. He was on the ground twitching and the comment I heard was “uhhh he looks like a bunny. Poor thing” I’m pretty sure that guys would have be foaming at the mouth already drawing up schematics outlining Operation Revenge. I grew up around woman and sports and it’s just not the same. My Nan hit my Grandpa in the head with a golf club and she still laughs to tears when she tells the story. My Mom crocheted (knitting of some kind) so many blankets watching me play hockey that she could have been selling them on the side for all I know. My best friend Julie hacked my shins playing street hockey for 10 years, which is why she got picked first all the time (sorry Julie but it’s true). It’s not that girls don’t appreciate sports because I am surprised that they watched a combined 8 hours of footy but it’s just not the same as guys. Girls will stand up at the end of the game when their team has lost and pronounce emphatically “That was stupid” and leave the room. Guys are still yelling about weather conditions, referees, injuries, the importance of the game and so on until they have mentioned everything twice just so when the post game announcer mentions it someone can holler “See, I told em. I TOLD EM”. I’m not saying that one way is better than the other. What I am saying is that if I don’t start watching sports around some testosterone I am likely to get back to Canada and during Game 7 of the Stanley Cup and say, “That was stupid” then get beaten to a pulp.

Read More...

I went for my first bike ride as an uncle. Not surprisingly it felt the same. Today's trek took me to a burb called Turramurra that is 21 km north from downtown Sydney. I had to take 2 trains to get there but I had done my research and it was supposed to be worth it. It started through some posh neighbourhoods where everyone seemed to be gardening in their front lawn wearing flowery gloves. It looked like an unspoken "garden-off" has taking place where you have one eye on your Golden Wattles (acacia pycnantha) and the other over the fence just to see if you can catch the neighbours breaking the water restriction rules. Shortly I began to enter Ku-ring-gai Chase National Park and it was something else. I was warned at the park entrance that cyclists are hit by kangaroos and wallabies during the mornings but it was probably too hot today. It was hot. 34C and sweltering. Like every great bike ride it started downhill. I was flying down this road and eased up a bit to take a few photos. It started to get really steep and curvy so I was happy that being Canadian gave be some inert dormant bobsledding ability that saved me around a few tight corners. When I got to the bottom I stopped for a drink and could smell my melting brake pads!! The uphill started out slowly and just got steeper and steeper until I realised that I had been in my granny gear for quite some time. I got to the top and popped into a museum where the lady looked at me like I wasn't quite right in the head. "Do you think that it is necessary to bike in this heat? It's not safe you know". After a brief lecture about the effects of climate change she filled my water bottle and returned it like a pharmacist would a prescription. I biked for a bit with some guy on the uphill and found out that his wife is a Financial Recruiter. Weird. I memorized her info and later sent her an email. The last bit was a nice cruise through relaxed neighbourhoods all the way to the station. As I type this the following day I feel the need to express that jogging in no way prepares one's glutes for cycling in and out of valleys.

Read More...

Jasper George Jokela is my nephew. Jasper was born October 2, 2007. Even though he was five days late (poor Ali) we still love him. I have no details. No picture. No official time or weight or anything. The only thing that I know is that while Shane was on the phone with me, Alison was on the phone with my mom across the world. It's strange but you could just hear the love and pride in my brother's voice...he has changed instantly. I feel it already too. Ali's family must be just as amazed because it is the first grandchild on that side of the family too. I can just see George, Alison's dad, sitting quietly smiling. In the whole time that I've known him he'll talk your ear off but I can imagine him so clearly being honored about the choice of name that he is speechless. Sure Alison is primarily responsible for bringing Jasper into this world, Shane I assume did his part. But let's not forget the important role that Uncle Craig has had in making Shane ready for fatherhood.

1. Over 30 years of being Shane's brother and I haven't hoofed him in the balls once.
2. On our bike trip together I feigned exhaustion regularly just to make sure the blood was still flowing to the boys.
3. When we were kids and Shane was a goalie I always aimed top shelf, just in case.
4. Years of me spreading rumors that Shane was gay actually made woman like him more.
5. Me being the good looking brother took the pressure off him and forced him to find a sense of humor.
6. Despite me being four years younger than him, I was still better at sports than him thus teaching him humility.
7. Whenever I come to visit I let Shane pay for things just so that he can see how financially draining a child can be (ouch, that hurt me actually)
8. I turned Ali down. Just kidding, easy. Easy. Okay. Too soon, I get it.

I guess the point is that I'm so happy for Shane and Alison. Jasper is out and about. 10 and 10 as they say in the biz.

Part II - I just heard from Shane and Jasper weighed in at 8 lbs. (3.628 kilos for you Aussies). He is healthy and fine (considering Shane's appearance Jasper could have been part ogre for all I know). Ali is doing great and Shane said that she is amazing.

Read More...

October started with bang. 30C without a cloud in the sky and lucky for us we had plans to go boating. The same friends of ours that took us to Hunter Valley Wineries decided that a Canadian would really appreciate seeing Sydney Harbour by boat. I was keen to get my sea legs while Aiva was perhaps slightly less excited by the idea of testing out her sea stomach. Being the gentleman that I am, I repeatedly offered to drink her beverage as to not make our hosts feel bad.

It sounds strange but having spent 30 years on Lake Superior and been on several sailing trips as a kid makes it surprising that the water is salty. Really salty. I told the Aussies about taking a cup and reaching overboard to fill it and drinking it as a kid and they were guffawed. The trip was rather windy and splashy but that made it even more fun for me. I think that my butterflies of happiness mixed with Aiva'a butterflies of barf still left us doing pretty well. It is obvious why they are called "Sydneysiders" and the huge houses with an ocean view provided a very Spanish or Portuguese feel. We cruised by a house (read: grotesquely large ocean side mansion) ) that was reportedly worth $54 million. Perhaps the order that I was shown a few landmarks was poorly designed because next we went by Russell Crowe's pad that was the top floor of this huge complex and I wasn't impressed. I thought "It's no $54 million...maybe only 11 mil" It was a great afternoon so far and we had barely even started.

I guess they had taken note that the muscles in Aiva's jaw were twitching so we decided to find a cozy bay and anchor. Out came the white wine, tapenade, cheeses, etc. I was happy drinking my beer but I guess that I could indulge a bit. We had afternoon reservations at a place called Doyles on the Beach and I was thinking "Hey, some seafood would be nice" you know, nice and easy, maybe a shrimp ring or something. I didn't realize that we were being taken to the best seafood restaurant in Sydney. It was established in 1885 and I'm pretty sure that the place has been jam packed since. I guess maybe I'm exaggerating a touch because in Doyles newsletter it admits that they had some ups and downs during the Great Depression. Bummer.

The food was the best meal that I've ever had. As most of you know I could have soup 7 days a week and enjoy every bowl so it is saying a lot when I state that Doyles Seafood Chowder is the best soup there is (it should be for 18 bucks!) After a few glasses of wine the Platter for two came out. It was ridiculous. It was so good that me trying to describe it is shameful. I'll say only this. If I was on death row and they asked me what I wanted as my last meal I would say Doyles Fisherman's Platter. I think that I got stabbed reaching for the last piece of Lobster Mornay so if I had it again I swear that I wouldn't share. Well, I might with my Nan (she's a light eater). Dessert was White Port (new to me) and fresh strawberries. I didn't want to leave. I felt like 54 million bucks but some of the guys wanted to continue on to an outdoor pub. I tell ya, the things I do to be polite. We ended the evening with a few pints and got driven home happy and full (and smelling like a brewery I was told later).

Every way I turned there was another postcard ready view. I took 52 photos and yet again I wished that I had more room on my camera. Thanks to everyone for such a great day.

Read More...