Iconic sights and much much more…

19/08/11

After serving James his usual toast in bed (benefits of the free breakfast without actually going for breakfast!) We all set off into down town Sydney for a walking tour. The only downside for taking the pictures of iconic sights was the gale and the driving rain. One can officially tell you that it does in fact rain “abroad”
Over three hours we saw the sights including the opera house, Sydney Harbour Bridge, which Chicken told us (repeatedly), is based on Tyne Bridge, lots of English street names, and lucky pig with a shiny nose and cock. At one point we were told about gangs in the 18th Century capturing people, whipping them with socks filled with sand putting salt in their wounds and then keeping them hostage. The Saudi man next to me thought this was a bit much for the modern day… helpfully I told him that this was something that happened a long time ago. I assume the Saudis use less awful corporal punishment??
A few hours later we were in our glad rags and heading out for a Sydney night out. We hoped to be able to settle once and for all the question of which city was better. Sydney or Melbourne. We’ve had a night out in Melbourne and this was the return match. The blog tomorrow will reveal all!

Ok so to the night it’s self. After filling up on more cheap Chinese food we hit the streets. The plan was to hit a few straight bars and then the gay scene. The first bar had cheap drinks offers and that was the only plus side. The bouncers were huge and unfriendly and frankly we felt like paedophiles as the crowd were all just 18. After necking our cheap and surprisingly nice wine we were back on the streets. Next up was shark bar where again the bouncers were none too nice. Not to be deterred we had a drink, chatted and moved on.

The weather by now was turning into a full on gale and crossing the road chicken had his third and hopefully final fall or the trip. One moment he was jugging across the road in the driving rain the next moment he is doing a comedy fall with legs in the air and then he’s down on his arse and arm. Timed differently and we could have been visiting A&E but as it was his only injury was his pride and a wet arse.

Now of course the rain really began to fall and the wind rally began to blow. In England we would have had the requisite winter jumpers and coats. Here James and I were in jumpers and chicken being the hard Geordie was in just shirt sleeves. It was during this protracted walk to the next pub that we realised that umbrellas in Oz were just not like their British counterparts. Whilst outs are study and fairly wind resistant Australian ones are feeble. Walking along was like following an umbrella convention as we saw 15 abandoned and broken brollies. We may be loving Oz but one thing is for sure we have a better brolly!

Eventually we were in the next pub and I my most charming was I asked for three of the cheapest beers and chicken went to dry his bum under the hand dryer. Whilst drinking schooners of beer we decided that these pots were Dave Carter size- slightly smaller but packing an almost full punch and fitting neatly into his smaller hands. Yes with this level of insightful conversation it was clear we were getting drunk.

Next stop big gay bar were we were asked to fill in a sex survey for a LGBT charity. Chicken gamely engaged but somewhat struggled to complete it and probably painted quite an unusual picture for the researchers. Have you had sex with a man in the last year- No. Are you engaging in sexual encounters with Women- Yes. Do you do fisting….

Before long we were in a nightclub were James and I looked on as chicken owned??!! the dance floor before jumping on the podium climbing the pole and doing pull ups from the bracket scaffold that supported the pole. Next up in the chicken repertoire was press-ups on the dance floor and amazingly a girl that looked quite normal and about 25 took an interest in him. Obviously this display of sexual prowess had done the trick. That said after a quick dance she was off but chick need not have worried as he was shortly to receive the attention from (in my opinion) the fairer sex…

Before long we were in another bar and whilst James and I danced chicken had a rest. Looking hot in a blue denim shirt and muscle vest he had soon attracted the attention of a young man. Now chicken is a sociable kind of guy and got talking but out of the corner of my eye I realised that the man in question had ideas beyond talking and his hand was making its way up chicken’s thigh. Chicken firmly removed this and I skipped over to rescue the chicken. Now James and I were not happy at this point as how is it that the straight boy gets that attention and as far as we knew no one had been touching us up….

Our next encounter was with some fabulous drag queens with whom we chatted with. Whilst wearing not one but two corsets on of these fabulous ladies bemoaned the fact that the gay area was going downhill mainly consisting of hen parties and teenagers. She did however offer a glimmer of hope suggesting that the madri gras brought that area to life. So whilst being footloose and fancy free we may pop back.

As you can imagine time was ticking on and James opted for an hour of internet time back at the hostel leaving chicken and I on the town alone. I would like to recall some fabulous adventure that would titivate and scandalise in equal measure but alas we had a pint in a quite pub and then headed home. We did try for a final pint in the shark bar but when the bouncer asked where I had been and the response was Oxford Street (the gay area) he told us that we went getting in. A little earlier in the night and a few less beers under my belt I would have argued the toss and explained discrimination but he could argue that we were drunk and he looked like he would like to crush a pomm so instead we skipped on home. Gay dear I don’t know what he means. How very dare him!!!