Funky Monkey!

Hello mates! And yes, I’m going to be a total douche and start using the words “mates” and “cheers.” (wait for it at the end) Since my last post, we have done quite a bit, yet probably not anything you would find interesting. We spent our first night out at Scruffy Murphy’s, a bar just down the street from our hostel. We went with two folks from our room, one of which we lost early in the night, and the other who we knighted as our third musketeer. The night ended with various jumping pictures being taken on our walk back to the hostel. New Year’s Eve started out at Subway, where I found a piece of hair in the cheese in my sandwich, and vowed to never get subway in Australia again. Following that horrific experience, I spent the rest of the day/night pub hopping by the Harbour with my fellow musketeers. It was pretty much just a giant street party with revelers from all walks of life; white, Asian, fat, skinny, ginger midgets, etc. We stuck around an area near the bridge so as to not miss the fireworks show that everybody raves about. The bars played an array of music you would find on “NOW: That’s what I call music, volume 698.” But it was good, cheesy fun. By midnight, we could barely keep our eyes open but the fireworks definitely woke us up. Afterwards, we managed to muster up enough energy to go to the Pavilion Hotel for some dancing. I was shocked to see that it wasn’t actually a strip club as I had previously imagined it to be due to it’s creepy exterior.

I’m almost certain we walked a total of 18 miles on New Year’s Day. We had originally planned to go see the Royal Botanical Gardens that day, but instead, we stumbled upon a massive dance party known as field day. We found out tickets were over 100 bucks so didn’t even try to go. Needless to say, we did not see the gardens. Instead, we visited the Chinese Gardens, which really were the epitome of tranquility. We ended the night at  Scruffy Murphy’s again, but the highlight was after we left when we met Rick. Rick was working as a security guard at a nudie party. Yes, a nudie party. We were walking home, minding our own business, when we noticed a crowd of men and women in their undies. Upon noticing the scantily clad crowd, we started chanting “NUDIE PARTY! NUDIE PARTY!” and somehow befriended the security guard, who seemed to not find us as hilarious as we find ourselves. How dare he!

We were able to see the Royal Botanical Gardens and Mrs. Maquerie’s Point today. It was lovely until we got caught in a brief torrential downpour that swallowed the city. I treated myself to some Palak Paneer and Naan for dinner, and we went and saw “Sherlock Holmes” at the cinema. (I recommend seeing that movie, btw) We’re now back in the hostel, and relieved our frienemies are gone for the night. “Frienemies?” you say? Oh yes, we have obtained an entire group of frienemies. They are our English roommates and we find them highly undesirable as human beings. English fools!

We check out tomorrow and have to figure out what to do for the next 4 days before we head down to Melbourne. I  shall keep you posted.

-Update: 

There is now a second elderly gentleman in our room, and I mean ELDERLY. He is an old Asian man who I believe has lost his way home and decided to set up shop here until his family comes and finds him. His luggage is a giant bin, the kind used to keep kegs cold at home.

-Quote of the day: “Ugh, this guy is farting… he farted and he shimmied!”—Corrie Buck at the bar.

Cheers, Mates!