Or: The grass is always greener on the other side, but the sand is pretty friggin’ white over here
So this is it. After half a year of planning (it didn’t actually take that long) I set foot to the new world.. well, new to me. It took a whole day and some change to finally get to Sydney. So no, grandma, I won’t be able to drop by for Christmas dinner this year.
Actually, I’m pretty sure I’m gonna spend Christmas all alone on the streets somewhere because I won’t be able to find a room. Not even the homeless people will have me.. but that shall be a story for another time.
I suppose I came here with huge expectations. The stories I’ve heard about this place.. oh, the stories. Where are the $$ you said I’d make, the hundreds of friends and the buff surfer dude that would make me want to stay here forever? What? I’m not impatiently asking for too much..
Alright, let’s back up a little. The first time I consciously remember being away from home for a longer period of time was roughly 18 years ago, when I was 9. It was a summer camp that every kid in town age 9-16 went to. I wasn’t homesick. Matter fact, I probably cried when i realized I had to go back home after only one week! Ah yea, the great outdoors.. nature, exciting new things, interesting people, fucking adventure, yeah!! Right? The only thing I want right now is to lie in my bed playing World of Warcraft and be boring, knowing that all my loved ones are just a phone call away and not half-way around the world.
The big city is lonely. Friends – if you manage to make some – are temporary. Everybody is always on the move. What, you aren’t planning to go snorkeling at the Great Barrier Reef? Hug a koala at Alice Spring’s? Pick some onions in Darwin? Nah buddy.. I’m hanging out in Woolloomooloo. Where real jobs that make you some money are rare.
Loads of people travel in groups and tend to stay that way. Lone backpackers, such as me, are the exception. A great set of boobs aren’t enough to meet people around this neck of the woods. You actually have to make an effort. How does someone as anti-social as me (my whole life, people have told me I look like I want to be left alone) make friends? Lots of alcohol, of course. But then everybody is too embarrassed the next morning to speak to each other.
No, of course it’s not all bad. I have met some cool people. Some of who remember my name, and some of who simply call me ‘Germany’. Which gets kind of confusing sometimes, considering.
The weather is nice. It’s often a bit cloudy and windy, but dammit, it’s still warm enough that I am sitting in Hyde Park wearing shorts while writing this. That alone should totally count as a success. I’m spending my days getting beat up by the waves at Bondi Beach (wearing a bikini in November!) while Europe is already expecting snow. Ha. I think I am lacking the ability to be happy. Fortunately, sarcasm suits me very well.
Like pretty much all wildlife in Sydney, birds and bees have come to coexist with humanity. I am feeling like a horse trying to brush of flies, that actually follow you around, persistent little buggers. What I like about Sydney, is that even though it’s a pretty big city, it has managed to maintain a sense of nature. It’s very „green“. Smells of flowers everywhere.
Sydney is very active. When I go for a jog in the morning, I run into hundreds of like-minded people ( no pun intended). I only haven’t quite figured out why they all carry a backpack.
I do not like the inner city, what they call the CBD. It stands for Central Business District and the name is pretty much game. Streets crowded with busy business people getting to important lunch meetings, conferences and other busy business people stuff.
There are so many tall buildings, you feel like walking inside a maze with very high walls. You can’t see far, I feel trapped. It isn’t very horizon-widening.
I have found a job pretty much straight away, for the next couple of weeks. I wear a glittery-blue cowboyhat and a huge sign and hand out leaflets for a childcare center that is actually already full and has caused some angry mothers to stop and yell at me why I hand them brochures of a childcare place that is completely useless to them. The life of the cardboard-cowgirl. It’s gonna make for a funny anecdote one day, just.. not yet.
I’m not gonna go home before 6 months. That’s what I have promised myself. I’m gonna try to make it work at least that long. I haven’t even seen 3% of Australia yet. Come on, stop being a little bitch. Breath in, breath out, suck it up and get out there! (trying to pep-talk myself now) Yes, YES! I can conquer the world! (I think it’s working) … I don’t want to get left behind. I’m gonna leave my room and try to socialize … tomorrow. Tonight it’s a box of cookies and a movie. God, I’m pathetic.