Day 9

Sydney (Saturday)

Ah, waking up and 6AM and actually feeling normal and good. What is going on here? Have I slipped into some parallel universe and changed places with Rubin? I had eggplant last night and am getting up at the crack of dawn. I wonder if he is sleeping will 10AM and eating a donut for breakfast? This would be like the bizzarro word on Seinfeld when Jerry and Kramer switch apartments. Well, I’m willing to bet my life that Rubin is not doing anything that I would normally do, so I think it’s just me that is a little out of whack. Anyway, I went down to the concierge to see if he could recommend any good breakfast places, but since nothing would open for another hour, I made off in the direction of this district called The Rocks, which is a nice park area in Sydney Harbour overlooking the Opera House. On my way there I discovered several amazing things. #1 There was a Lulu Lemon store right outside my hotel on George Street. #2 There is a high end cupcake place on the same street. #3 McDonalds serves donuts in Australia as part of their McCafe, which competes with the local coffee houses. I walked in to take a picture of the donuts in the case at McDonald’s and people kind of looked at me funny, like “what the hell is this guys taking a picture of?” Ok, #4, and best of all, there is a Starbucks right at the entrance to The Rocks! Naturally, I walked inside and promptly ordered a grande red-eye. Of course, they had no idea what this was, so I explained it was a house blend drip coffee with a shot of espresso added. “Interesting”, the barista remarked. And there it is, I have just taught the starbucks people in Sydney how to make a red-eye. Just doing my part to bring America’s addiction to over-caffeinate ourselves with commercially available liquid crack to the other side of the World. I hope it catches on. I almost thought about telling them how to make a black-ye, but I didn’t feel that they were ready for that.

With my first cup of starbucks down under in hand, I strolled along the waterfront park on an amazing morning with a light sea breeze blowing. I snapped a couple photos of the Opera House and then had breakfast at the Oyster Club, which is a cute café sitting right on the dock. Back to the hotel from there, I decided that this day would be about getting to the beach and then maybe doing a little shopping. Threw on my suit, packed my backpack with two towels from the hotel room, sunscreen (which I wasn’t sure if I was going to use), water, a book, and my ipod. The concierge instructed me on how to take the bus to Bondi Beach and it seemed easy enough. The day before, my BrainLAB colleague, Ertan, suggested hitting this beach before I left. He also mentioned that I “should be fine” swimming in the water there as they had “only” had three shark attacks in the last month or so. Right. That makes me feel safe.

The bus ride was actually really cool since I got to see some of the other districts of Sydney including Hyde Park and Paddington, where they had the largest outdoor flea market I’ve seen since Webster! (Inside joke for Burwicks). Getting to the beach was amazing, we dropped down this huge decline in the road and from a busy shopping district emerged a an absolutely beautiful beach with the city in the background. I hoped off at the first stop so I could walk the beach a little while scoping out my place to sit. Well, I made it about 100 yards when I saw a group of three really attractive girls sunbathing on their backs with no tops on. It seemed to me that this was the most logical place to throw down my bag and catch some rays. Now, I did put sunblock on my shoulders and chest, but wanted to get a little color in my face, so I did not use any there for the first hour or so. I know some people reading this email will not believe I would risk being this stupid (again), but I guess we all have our weaknesses. The surf at Bondi Beach is unreal. Enormous waves come crashing in just 30 yards or so of the shore. Surfers are literally everywhere and it’s actually hard to find a spot to swim. I picked a place I thought I could paddle around for a little bit without getting my skull crushed by the board of some pot-head smoking, no deodorant wearing, beach bum and started wading out. There really is no way to ease yourself into the water at Bondi because as soon as you’re ankle deep you start getting pounded with waves. I made a feeble attempt at a slow ingress and then just decided that it was all or nothing and dove straight into an oncoming wave. The water temp was actually perfect, not frigid and not warm. I swam for a good 30 minutes. Riding the waves in was pretty fun, something I hadn’t done in a long time (mostly because I had not seen waves like this in a long time). Toward the end of my time in the water I remembered Ertan’s comment about the shark attacks. I started looking around for dark shadow moving stealthily through the water and imagined my leg being bitten off by a Carcarian Carcarus (Linean name for Great White). I rembered Ertan had also said that I should just make sure I’m “not the deepest person in the water” and that as long as I’m not swimming at dawn or dusk, I was fine. Well, I wasn’t the deepest person in the water, but that strategy didn’t make sense to me. I mean, do sharks always attack the first person they encounter? I don’t think so. On the other hard, I doubt my skinny legs would make for an appetizing target. Somehow that did not comfort me and the wisdom the old fisherman Quinn from Jaws came back to me:

“You go in the cage.
Cage goes in the water.
Shark’s in the water.
Our shark...
Farewell and adieu to you fair Spanish ladies.
Farewell and adieu to you ladies of Spain.
For we’ve received orders to sail back to Boston.
And so, nevermore, shall we see you again.”

Yeah, ok, done with the water, thanks.

Spent another hour or so in the sun then started to feel as though I was making a huge mistake by not putting sun block on my face, so I lathered some on, put on my sox cap and went for a stroll along the boardwalk. First, I had a scoop of cappuccino gelato that was insane. Then I made my way into some cool surfer gear shops where I bought a new pair of board shorts (even though I don’t surf or board in any way) and black tee shirt that said “Bondi” on it in orange letters. Then I got a couple gifts at this outdoor market with local artists who make their own jewelry and clothing. Finally, I found a middle-eastern place and had an amazing falafel sandwich. When I went to pay for the sandwich, I realized I did not have anymore Aussie dollars though and they did not take American or credit cards. The clerk asked the manager to come out and he said he would take a greenback, put I would have to pay an equal exchange rate. A complete ripoff for sure, but if the sandwich was worth $7 then it was surely worth $10, not a big deal. When I gave him the $20 he gave me back $10 Aussie and then looked and me and said (in broken English with a heavy Arabic accent): “I’m going to enjoy spending your American money when I make it over to the US”… This was followed by an eerie devilish chuckle, kind of like Dr. Evil. I was actually expecting him to bring his pinkie to his mouth and stroke a bald cat at this point. “An evil petting zoo?” Feeling as though I had possibly given this loyal servant to Akbar, the last $20 he needed to make his pilgrimage to the UNholy land of the infidel and kill as many of my friends and family as possible, I collected my $10 dollars, laughed un uncomfortable laugh and walked away slowly as one might from a bear in the woods.

Now, heading back toward the beach I noticed something strange. There was a lot of commotion going on all around and people were congregating around the rim of the shoreline. I crossed the street to see what was up and was startled to see that EVERYONE was out of the water, sirens were blaring, speed boats were racing out into the water and a helicopter came straight over my head and hovered over the ocean about 100 yards out. Of course, this could only mean one thing: someone had spotted a shark. I felt my blood run cold for a minute as I thought about the fact that I was actually swimming in the open water with a shark nearby. I thanked the lord, Jesus Christ, snapped a couple photos of the unbelievable scene and hailed a cab home. On our way, we passed through a gorgeous area of the city known as Double Bay. I saw a bunch of stellar homes and remarked to the cab driver: “this seems like a nice place to live”. He looked at me with pitty, laughed out loud and said: “yeah, you need $5M minimum to live here. It’s the most exclusive section of town. Nicole Kidman lives here”. Ah, it was as if I was just passing through Beverly Hills for the first time, making the same comment. I’m pretty sure, my cab fair just went up about 100%. Silly American.

Nothing funny or weird happened for the rest of the day. I shopped around my hotel, but didn’t really buy anything of value. One interesting thing is that they still have Woolworth’s in Australia. I would not be surprised if my dad is booking his flight right now, to take advantage of the countless bargains that must be available in there on all kinds of quality items. I did also go to the Lulu store to see if they had anything different here than in the States. They did not. However, I did see a pair of boxer briefs that looked really comfortable so I brought those up to the register. The girl behind the counter told me these were very popular and really comfortable. “How would she know this?” I thought to myself. For some reason, I really did not know what to say in response, so I muddled something like: “yeah; I’ve been wanting to try them for a while. I’m excited to see how they fit”. No response from the girl. Ok, awkward moment, I’ll just take that receipt and be on my way.
I ordered pizza to go from a local place, watched a movie and fell asleep.