Harbour Bridge Bike Tour

Sorry this had to take precedence over everything else I've wanted to post recently, but it was just so EPIC that it was practically blocking my neurons from connecting properly. Oh, and the fact that it just so happens to serve as an up yours gesture to the ex. That's right, take that ya undeserving bastard! Hee hee!

Ugh, sorry, on another unrelated note, I just wanted you all to know that it's taken me about 5 whole hours to write these few paragraphs for your entertainment, as I've just been browsing iTunes and downloading apps for the last few hours. And now you know the real reason it takes me ages to make a post... that's right, I'm looking for inspiration. I mean, it doesn't just come to me you know.

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The forecast for Sunday was thunderstorms, but I was pretty determined to go ahead with it. I had a point to prove, and I was damned if I was going to let a bit of rain ruin my parade. I woke up at the godforsaken hour of 7:30 am on Sunday morning to get ready, and made it out the door at 8:30 am, to wait for the bus. Which, as I should have known, was late as usual (huh, a bus on Sunday, on time, what were you thinking?). Normally I wouldn't have cared, but this time I had an appointment, damn it. Thank god I got a ride to the station instead, and caught the train to Circular Quay.

It felt a bit surreal being on a train that early, and I was dying for a coffee at the very least. I made it to the Bonza Bike Tours place in the Rocks right on time at 10:15 am, and waited while this (admittedly cute) guy named Pat served another couple wanting to do a tour the next day. I looked around the small space, it was like a little office, but with bicycles lined up inside, and more out the back in the courtyard. Apparently there was a miscommunication somewhere, and the guide who was meant to take me couldn't make it. So while he sorted that out, (being all apologetic about it), I grabbed a latte (that's with two sugars, FYI), from the french patisserie next door, which according to Pat did the best coffee, in the Rocks, if not Sydney. Huh, I'll be the judge of that.

I came back and Pat told me he'd be my guide for the day, (which I was secretly hoping for, not simply because he was cute, alright, maybe that played a part in it, but I'd already established a rapport with him, and I couldn't be half arsed doing it again with some other random guide). He opened up the bike shed and there were even more bikes stacked up. It reminded me of our shed at home, and Greeny all alone, her tires slowly deflating. Meh, what can you do. Pat realised I was actually a bit shorter than him, so I'd need a smaller frame (I noticed they had mostly Trek bikes) and we adjusted the seat. Even the helmet fit surprisingly well.

By the time we left it was about 11am, and we had a full 5 HOURS ahead of us. We were standing near the Overseas Passenger Terminal, and he was talking me through the gears. Hmm, I tried not to feel nostalgic, as this reminded me a bit of when I was learning with my ex. Even Pat said he had a friend who was taught by her boyfriend. Ugh. Let's move on now. I warned Pat that I was a bit rusty, having been at least 2 months or so out of practice, but that didn't faze him, thank god. So I did a few little circles to get my bearings, and the next thing I knew, we were off down the road. DOWN THE ROAD! Alright, it was a side street, but STILL.

I remember thinking, I can't believe I'm riding in Circular Quay, when all this time I was merely walking. Now, it's just occurred to me this is turning out to be a massive post that I probably won't be able to publish for days, if not weeks, but in a nutshell, it was fucking awesome. And I've got actual photos this time. Huh, look at that.

I'd thought I'd do you all a favour and summarise the highlights (for anyone who's interested in taking the tour, there's a few good spoilers here, but that's hardly my fault).

Millers Point: Pat started off with a bit of history about the place, not that I can remember much of it now, but there was a sculpture, Brett Whiteley's Black Totem II, which I wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't pointed it out, as it was a giant egg on a nest, on a pole between two buildings. I mean, anyone would've missed it. But what I didn't miss, in both senses of the word, was that godawful structure at the roundabout. Apparently a live installation artwork, it consisted of a crushed car with the giant rock still on it. Just looking at it makes me sigh in frustration.

Dawes Point and the Sydney Harbour Bridge: Heading up the hill to the main cycleway on the bridge was a bit of a rip. I was puffing at the first (not that minor, damn it) hill, and kind of embarrassed at how unfit I was compared to Pat. But he did have the heart to assure me that he does this regularly, so it's not like I should be comparing. I mean, just look at him... yep, he was built for it alright. Hee hee. Ahem. By this stage there was a light drizzle, but we put on our très chic ponchos and made our way across the bridge. It was one way traffic, and the ground was slippery, and I was tiring a little, because I swear to god it felt like we were on some kind of uphill incline, even though it was flat. I managed to make it across half way, and I took the obligatory photos. Who knew when I'd be up there again? The view was definitely worth it though. Hmm, yes, let the bragging begin. I had to carry my bike down the other end of the stairs though, which was a bit of a bitch. I suppose I could've played the damsel in distress, but maybe Pat was testing my strength, 'cause that bike was heaps heavier than my Greeny, no offense. He promised to carry it up on the way back though, so at least it wasn't a total cop out... heh heh.

Kirribilli: Pat was keeping up the commentary all the way, even while he was cycling (sometimes hands free) ahead of me, and looking back to make sure I was keeping up. Well lah dee dah. I remember the beauty of the lovely terrace houses, and the quiet streets, and how easy it was navigating my way past parked cars, even with cars coming up right alongside us (I was using Pat as my bodyguard on the traffic side, so it was alright... hee hee). It was a beautiful scene, with the purple flowered jacaranda trees, and how the delicate blossoms would gently fall with the breeze and cover the pathways and cars in lightly scented, lavender patches. Then he tells me what a hassle it is cleaning up that crap. Ugh yes, nevermind that. It was around here that we checked out Kirribilli House (well, we hovered outside the gates), where the Prime Minister would normally stay if she feels like it, apparently she prefers Canberra(!) No offense to my brother, but it's a bit on the flat side. And I should know, having stayed there myself, so this isn't one of my wild, baseless accusations.

Lavender Bay and Milsons Point: I'd always thought that Lavender Bay was some kind of nudist beach, but I think was confused with a certain other beach. Unfortunately for you, we didn't go past there. The view was good though. "Yes, I'm sure it was", I can hear you sniggering. Ugh, I meant the harbour. God, the immaturity of you people. Anyway, we made our way through to Luna Park, where Pat told me that the famous smiling clown face scares little kids sometimes and that some of the residents used to complain about the fact that the park's big rollercoaster was giving them the shits, even though it was there before they moved in. Well that's what happens when you live near an amusement park, duh.

Sydney Observatory: By this time we were pretty much starving, and we parked our bikes at the park. It was my first time at the Observatory, and I had a little wander around. I've always wanted to go there at night, and bag myself a star, probably in the phoenix constellation, since it'll be viewable around my birthday. Hint hint, people. Pat came back with our lunches, and we sat there on the park bench having these moroccan lamb sandwiches (the best he's ever had, apparently, that's what he said... ah I love that saying) and we talked about how he'd stayed up till about 3 am trying to capture the perfect shots for his tropfest short film, which I was quite fascinated to hear about, even though it vaguely reminded me about a certain ex's pastime. There's a lot of competition for Tropfest, and I hope he makes it into the finalists, just so I can casually remark to random strangers that I personally know the director.

Barangaroo, King Street Wharf, Cockle Bay Wharf and Darling Harbour: I felt like a nap after eating, but we had to push on for the next 2 hours or so, through these areas. It was a great ride through Barangaroo, where they held that World Youth Day thingo for the Pope. It's a dead space at the moment, but apparently they're in the process of turning it into some kind of new environmentally sustainable community precinct. OR SOMETHING. And Pat was all for it, he even thought it was a good idea. Huh, at the time. We weaved our way through the Sunday walkers on the wharves, although it was getting a bit tricky for me around Darling Harbour, as the crowds got gradually thicker, and I just felt like ringing my bell and yelling "Out of my way!" in a fit of cycling rage. As usual, Pat was having no trouble at all. I was feeling quite proud of myself even at this stage, as riding around people always kinds of intimidates me, what with their sudden and random movements and all. God, here I am, a lone girl on a bike just trying to get by, surrounded by flocks of ravenous, out of control people. And they say cyclists are a public hazard.

Chinatown and Hyde Park: Still reading eh? Told you it was a massive post. Probably one of the best I've ever done, as I recall. We half walked our way through the narrow streets of Chinatown, until we got out onto Hay Street, and this was where Pat warned me about keeping my bike wheels out of the light rail tracks, as apparently they're the perfect width to get stuck. I was hoping for a coffee stop at this point, but he couldn't spare a square, so we pushed on till we got to Elizabeth Street (it was a bit of a struggle going up the incline, and I know I was meant to adjust my gears and what have you, but I just couldn't be fucked), and onto Hyde Park, which was beautiful as always. I've always wanted to ride there, and one of these days, I'm going to go back when the weather makes up its mind about what season it's in. I could've sat on that bench resting my ass (thank god for my padded nicks!) for a while longer, but we had places to go. STILL. As you can imagine, I was pretty buggered, but Pat promised a magnificent sight later on that would totally be worth my time and hard earned sweat. Huh, it'd better be!

The Domain and Mrs Macquaries Point: It was a peaceful, serene ride through Art Gallery Road, with its tree lined paths winding through the Botanical Gardens and passing by the crazies (as they're affectionately known) on their soapboxes outside the Art Gallery of NSW. We came up to this part of the road, where a couple of wedding cars were stalling, and some guy was fiddling with his umbrella as he was getting out of the car, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE FREAKIN' ROAD. And naturally, Pat manouvered around him like a pro, while I tried squeezing my way past his massive golf umbrella. The guy managed to back into me without even looking, and I was left with no alternative but to crash into the gutter, falling hands first into the grass. Pat was visibly shocked, and hurried over to help me up, and he was going to have a go at the guy for parking in the middle of the pathway, but I, (being the diplomatic one, as you would all know) calmed him down. I was more annoyed at the fact that the umbrella guy didn't even apologize. I can't stand that in people. I don't even think he even cared that I'd fallen over, the bastard. Meh, what can you do. I got on my bike again and rode away, and took a bit of satisfaction knowing their perfect little wedding day was already ruined by the rain... hee hee. Later on I joked to Pat that it wasn't a real ride without a crash at some point, and that I've had worse, which made him laugh. Hee hee, yes, aren't I the charmer.

Due to heritage reasons, we couldn't actually ride through the Botanical Garden paths, so we dismounted and walked our way to Mrs Macquaries Chair for that beautiful view that he was going on about before, and yes, I'd have to say it was worth it. We talked about how distracting the view was when you were trying to watch a movie at the Openair cinema set up on the water... which led onto some discussion about what our top 5 movies were, which was actually quite a hard question to answer, but the Shawshank Redemption was definitely on my list. He also mentioned Pulp Fiction (which I still haven't seen yet - don't judge me, damn it), The Godfather and more recently Inception, which is practically a given.

Opera House and the Rocks: I was vaguely disappointed knowing that this would be our final stop, since it'd been such a grand ride throughout the locales of Sydney, stopping by all the best landmarks. Hmm, if only Pat didn't have that whole professional thing going on... even his shirt said, "Wanna Ride?" God, what am I supposed to think about that? Hee hee, don't mind if I do. Anyway, now that I know where to go, I think I'll do it again sometime... care to join me?

This one's for Casey

I thought I'd do a little something for Casey, as a parting gift, and I wish him the best of luck. God I'll miss him! Ok, sure this post might be peppered with some my own angst, but STILL, where else is he going to see his name in print? Heh heh.

I usually don't do quick and dirty posts (hmm, quick and dirty eh, you're thinking, god you're all sick), but I've been thinking back on what I've been up to lately, and the details are getting fuzzier by the day, and if I don't do something about it, it'll be gone forever. FOREVER. Even Anney tells me she looks forward to my posts more than Facebook updates. Ah, facebook. That old thing. Hmph, still around, I see. Ugh.

Anyway, rewind to the 8th October. It was a balmy Friday night, and someone had just joined the company, so we were having drinks at the local. I didn't get there till later, so it was just the four of us left, Casey, Katrena and Patrick, who apparently could drink us all under the table and then would probably think that we couldn't hold our drinks or something.

Somehow word had gotten out that I'd split from Vay. (Ugh, god, is there a post where he doesn't come up?) and I was cordially invited to pour my heart out and bitch to my heart's content. It was still pretty fresh at the time, and Casey and Katrena were offering gems of advice. This was the night that he wanted to see me before he left for his trip to Indonesia to see his ex and get some closure. Closure? It's been more than 3 years, and he wanted closure on a relationship that he had ended, and in which time the girl had already moved on, has a boyfriend (so I'm told) and is living overseas? So what does he do? Break up our relationship to get some closure on one that was already broken up. And what does he have to show for it now? Nothing but two broken relationships and two broken hearts. As for him, he'll get his come-uppance. Hee hee, I've always wanted to use that word.

Whoops, sorry about all that, went off on a bit of a tangent there. Meh, had to come out sooner or later.

So out of sympathy or possibly even the goodness of his own heart, later that evening, Casey invited me to a drinks gathering in Darlinghurst, at an artsy looking bar called Lo-Fi. I don't even remember the route we took now, but it was worth the walk. Sure I might have had doubts, and I can't say that I didn't have a little anxiety about socialising with unfamiliar people on the way there, but Casey was firm and quietly reassuring me that this would do me a world of good, he was practically doing me a favour. In fact, if I didn't shut up now, he'd leave me stranded in the middle of Darlinghurst. Or something along those lines.

It was a retro looking bar, where there were already a few of Casey's and Annabey's friends (Edwina, Mark, Alex, and Aria) sitting on the balcony that overlooked Taylor Square. I grabbed a random glass of wine from the bar, and joined them, where I listened in like an eavesdropper and even managed to join in a bit. When it got cold we retreated indoors for more random conversation, where I remember talking to Edwina and Mark, who I was delighted to find out were cyclists, and would later be cycling to meet us at yet another understatedly cool pizza joint called Mad Pizza e Bar. It just made me want to live in the inner city. I'd be cycling everywhere.

Before deciding on Mad Pizza though, we stopped off at Casey's cute lil' apartment (even he had two bikes propped against the wall, god I was jealous), and met up with Zoe. Actually I'm not sure when Zoe turned up (well I can't be responsible for all my wheelings and dealings) but she was also nice company. I think I complimented her on her scarf.

It was about 9 something when we got there, and got a long table upstairs in the private banquet room, as you do. The place was buzzing, so I don't know how we managed that, but it was an unusual looking room, with a cardboard moose head on the wall, and what appeared to be unopened bottles of Bollinger against this mirror? Oh, you know, just for decoration... They even had an ipod speaker, so we could've tuned our own music. I love places that offer that. I'll give 'em my playlist next time. And THEN that'll be what you call classy.

We ended up ordering about 6 pizzas to share between the 9 of us (a guy named Jeremy turned up later out of the blue), so it worked out alright. I particularly liked the de mario (with roasted pumpkin - I like roasted pumpkin on anything) and the lamb pizza was a bit of alright too. We all got glasses of different red wines (I went with Teusner's The Independent Shiraz Mataro, that's right, I picked it by the sound of its name), and it actually turned out quite well. That's how good I am.

At about 11pm, and Zoe, Aria and I walked back to King's Cross. I caught the train with Aria and we talked about random stuff like where to get the best cat's poo coffee, and how free she felt when she left home and lived with some flat mates. Which was something I was hoping to do with the ex, but that never eventuated. Anyway, that's his loss. Now I'll have to find someone else to bed and make wild passionate love with. Oh well...