UK to OZ: the Review: Having completed the London to Sydney ‘UK to Oz’ trip. I feel I should have some comments to make. Hmm, where to start? Certainly not at the beginning.
Nobody really will know what they are letting themselves in for when they pack off in a truck for 32 weeks with thirty strangers. You will have fallings out, especially if you find yourself camping in a desolate landscape in -20°C. However, the people you at first find unappealing may turn out to be your friends by the end of the trip, and vice versa. There were many episodes where I found myself nearly coming to blows with somebody in the morning only to be chatting amiably with them by the afternoon as if nothing had happened, so the dynamic becomes a lot like a family, I suppose. Not that you have to keep in touch with afterwards though. However, there are many people I will keep in touch with because we have shared some of the best times we will probably ever experience like:
The cultural collision that is Istanbul, jumping off the top of a mountain with a parachute floating high a sapphire blue bay in Oludeniz, careering around on quad bikes through an alien landscape of pointing rock high rise peaks in Goreme, discovering the natural and historical beauties of Iran, and the welcoming friendliness of its people, being amiably escorted through Pakistan by guards armed with AK47s or mounted machine guns, negotiating the zoo of humanity in Indian cities and its ancient monuments and holy sites, riding elephants through jungles, getting dumped into white water rapids and hiking around the Himalayas in Nepal (and not quite bearing its restaurant service standards), going through the timewarp of rural Tibet and China, and contrasting it with the vibrancy and explosive growth of its major cities (and it’s new wealth ostentation with a still present under-current of political repression), not to mention performing an impromptu gig in a Beijing Train Station....finding that Laos and Vietnam are not relics of wars, but are now some of the most desirable locations to visit for tourists and backpackers. In Vietnam, some of the best food I had on the whole journey was served by wandering cooks on the beach. In Cambodia, the scars of atrocity are still on display, but its future looks much brighter. In Thailand, I dived with bull sharks in open water and experienced the questionable entertainments of Bangkok. And there was skidding around the bay on a jet ski in Langkawi in Malaysia. Malaysia was a kind of rediscovery of modernity and cleanliness, with the towers of KL and the prevalence of sit down toilets. Indonesians, meanwhile, are some of the most genuine and friendly people of all, while Australia features awesome remote landscapes, with a sunnily dispositioned populace who are generous with their hospitality too, though now they are some of the wealthiest people in the world, this should perhaps be no surprise. What was a bit of a surprise is how highly rule based Australia is, but more of that later. What I am saying in all this is that, you know, I kind of had fun, as it happens.
Back to today, and some relatively mundane excitements:
Having ended my night early yesterday, I should be feeling sprightly today, but that was forgetting the sips from cured OCD’er Andrew’s hip flask I had, so I abandon plans to walk around Sydney.
For lunch, I see if Sydney’s pizza fares any better than my Melbourne experience. In Australia, they do pizzas which they call ‘gourmet’ which basically means there are mountains of toppings on it. Note to Oz pizza makers: if you can’t make a decent margherita, then you can’t make pizza. This pizza is a 12 inch thin crust and there’s lots of rich cheese on it, but the saltiness of the pepperoni makes me feel like I’m eating a pizza from McDonalds. I go back to bed feeling ill, though for the cheesiness I give it 7.
Later I get up to collect tickets I’ve ordered for a Massive Attack gig outside the Opera House tomorrow. As I walk past the open stage area, I find the band sound checking, as they are also playing tonight. By the time I come out with my tickets, the path next to the stage area has been fenced off, though I walk through a gap to get a better listen and take a sneaky video....
Dinner is in the hostel, where I cook pasta with Jen. It’s quite a homely feeling to be cooking in a modern kitchen for ourselves, and not another thirty people.
I am still not entirely sure what to do with myself, and where I will be going next.
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