Today being my last day at Sarah’s, we decided to make the most of it by spending it in the city. After I packed up all my stuff (including my makeshift travelling coffee kit and various sheet music books, not to mention the tshirts that Sarah had stolen off me) and said my goodbyes, we went off to Circular Quay.
Breakfast was first on the agenda, or brunch, or whatever it is you call a meal at that time of the day. My stomach was making somewhat alarming noises and felt disturbingly like it was trying to digest itself in lieu of actual food. We ended up going to a French patesserie at The Rocks which has become somewhat of a landmark for my family ever since I threw up there as a child. Being unable to pronounce anything on the menu, we simply had “the second pie from the top of the menu” and “the baguette… yeah, that one”.
As it was raining quite heavily, we then popped into the nearby Museum of Contemporary Art; which also had the added advantage of a cloakroom for my somewhat heavy bag that was designed to be wheeled along by persons somewhat shorter than myself. There seemed to be quite a bit of wank there (I am so not getting into the “what is art?” debate), but some things were quite interesting, including an installation of a pianola playing random notes which were accompanied by randomly selected videos of a quite bizarre and disturbing nature; and a darkened room with two prisms and a mechanised arm with a light at the end moving in a random way so that colours would jump around the room (today’s photo, obviously).
Earlier, I was intrigued by this German restaurant/bar up the road, which appeared to seat about twenty people outside and the same number inside. However, when we came back to check it out, it had this massive underground section that could probably hold about five hundred people. It was all Oktoberfested out (all nouns are now verbs), what with waiters in lederhosen, waitresses in Bavarian bar wench gear and a band playing songs from The Sound of Music and the Chicken Dance. It was VERY amusing. Also, I had this massive one-litre mug of Lowenbrau. It was very hard to lift, and therefore I felt extremely hardcore. Not to mention full of liquid. Heh.
We then spent some time sitting around the Quay before having to go to the airport. While sitting, we were treated to an interesting combination of a somewhat well dressed old guy playing Spanish guitar for no apparent reason and an excessively gaudy wedding party featuring fluorescent pink groomsmen’s ties and bridesmaids’ dresses, excessively forced wedding photography (“now, honey, look at me more adoringly…”) and classical music. At the airport, we had a Maccas dinner before saying (somewhat teary) farewell; and not only did my plane leave on time, it actually arrived 15 minutes early!
So then I got home, unpacked, discovered my parents had gone on an Ikea shopping spree in my absence, ate cheese and now I’m blogging. During my holiday I had forgotten how much of a bitch my computer is, so I’ll put the rest of my photos from my trip up at some other point.