Warning: This Post Contains Excessive Alcohol Consumption and Bad 80s Music. Read At Own Risk.

Meet Suze.

Although she looks like a homeless beggar from the streets of Sydney, i can assure you that she is, in fact, a semi-intelligent young professional with a husband, a mortgage and a dog. Despite this idyllic existence, Suze has one unfortunate vice - booze.


What I'm about to report is absolute fact. I have not embellished the truth in any way, nor was i responsible for what took place over the course of 5 days several weeks ago, when i first met Suze in person.


But let me start at the beginning.


About a year ago, i stumbled across this blog. And i thought it was hilarious! I read 4 years worth of posts in a very short space of time, and lo, a cyber-friendship was born. Suze and I have been exchanging emails for yonkers, but alas, she lives abroad. So when i found out she was coming home to Oz for a visit, we decided we'd hook up for a real life meeting to see if our online chemistry would translate into reality. How bad could it be, i thought. She seems totally normal.


At approximately 5.30pm on a chilly Monday evening, i received the following text:



"Have arrived in Sydney. Drink?"


Alarm bells should have rung in my head. I mean, who has drinks on a MONDAY? Still, i agreed to meet her. She was on holidays after all, and i felt it was my duty to ensure she had a good time. Despite my fear that she would not be able to negotiate Sydney's complicated train system (being from the country and all), she agreed to meet us nearby our house, and we ended up at a local place for one or two glasses.


Several hours later, we were onto our 6th wine and i was feeling pleased with our meeting. Turns out we got on great, and she didn't seem to have any psychotic tendencies that i could see. But it was clear she could have put away another bottle of grog, so i had to be responsible and cut her off. I had work the next day after all. Obviously it wasn't me AT ALL who wanted to keep drinking into the wee hours. Definitely, absolutely not.


Day two dawned, and i met Suze and her husband Phil later in the day for lunch and a short tour of some places in Sydney that i think are underrated and pretty awesome. Yes, 4 out of 6 locations were drinking venues, but that was purely coincidental. Totally irrelevant. Lets move on. We ended up at what i believe to be a best kept secret in this town: Shady Pines Saloon. Its in an alley way, in a concrete building with a flimsy door and no sign save for an A-4 sheet of paper stuck to the front. But push that flimsy door open and a secret, wild western world reveals itself to you! There's cow heads on the walls, wood shavings on the floor and FREE PEANUTS! That's right, FREE PEANUTS!! Suze ate at least 5 bowls (I refrained myself to just one or two. peanuts, not bowls. I did. I DID!!), and enjoyed several glasses of my favourite concoction - freshly squeezed green apple juice and vodka. We calculated that we'd gotten more nutrients in one night than we'd had all week, which makes it basically a very healthy drink, which is why we tried to have as many as we could, to ensure further prosperous health and so on and so forth. And STILL, the girl drank me under the table.


ON MY OWN TURF.


Her booze addiction is such that she refused to let me leave even the dregs behind in my glass. She'd downed it in one foul swoop, claiming triumphantly that "nothing gets left behind!"


No indeed.


Now these two could have kept drinking, make no mistake about it, but i had to insist on eating before my stomach imploded. Further down the road was another joint i rather like called El Loco, which is a kind of a hastily put-together Mexican place with $5 tacos, cheap frozen margaritas and a hell of a lot of atmosphere.

All these elements put together made us veeeeery happy indeed. I'm not sure if I'm trying to do some sort of half-hearted peace sign in the picture below, or whether I'm telling the viewers at home how many more drinks it would take before i passed out entirely. As for Suze. Well.

Some of us were rather MORE happy than others. It was clearly time for me to leave.

The week continued in similar fashion. We took in dinner and drinks at Table for 20, a great communal dining experience in Surry Hills that's good value for money in this town. Everyone sits at communal tables, and we happened to be seated next to a group who had ambitiously brought about 7 or 8 bottles of wine with them. Of course Suze befriended them immediately, even though we had 2 bottles of our own. She tried to pull the whole "Yes, I'm from the UK, not a local, eager to meet new people and drink their alcohol supply" thing, but they didn't fall for it.



By the time Friday rolled around i was not only exhausted, but had been put to shame in the drinking department. However, it was Suze and Phil's last night so I was determined to put my best foot forward and go out with a bang. I enlisted the help of Jo and my good friend Turnsie, both seasoned drinkers, and we marched onwards to our first location, the Lord Nelson Brewery.


I arrived to find Suze in full disguise. Its no wonder, turns out she owes money right across Sydney.

It was ciders all round to start with, but Suze did not feel they were giving the desired effect.

Enter prune juice.

Well, it wasn't really prune juice. It was some sort of alcoholic, sparkling thing. But it was NOT good. It did get us happy snappy though. Here's the gals, ready for whatever the night would bring. That's Suze's lovely friend Kate, then Boozer herself, then me.

Ah, and here i am again, with my peace signs and my cheery "Holy Crap I'm Drunk!" face. The boys are looking...dapper's not exactly the word...stoned might be more fitting...

Aaaaaaand....yep. It starts to go downhill from there. Turnsie's pointing at his bald head with pride. Jo looks like his straining on the toilet. Phil's giving the "get a dog up ya" sign (apparently quite rude in England, though perfectly acceptable here). And SOMEONE is giving me devil ears. Fun and games abound.

But the fun soon turned sour. At midnight, we were unceremoniously ejected from the pub after Suze and I were discovered in the upstairs toilets throwing toilet paper at each other AND at other patrons AND out the window (she started it.)

But we would not be phased! We took on the streets of Sydney...

...and ended up at the all-time greatest dive in the entire city. That's right. You know it.


The Retro.

I'll caption the following photograph for you:


Suze: "OMG. What!!?? Am i hearing right? You're taking us to the RETRO??"
Me: "Hells yes! We are going to have the best time EVER!"
Phil: "Woohoo! Photo bomb!"

We put on our best sober faces and lined up to be let in. Success! Fast forward 20 minutes and 2 sexy ladies were on the prowl. Husbands? What husbands?

That thing we're drinking was made up of tequila, vodka, tequila, and cranberry juice. How many we had is up for debate. But it made us COOL.

Before we knew it, 80s fever has us in its grips. We were shaking it to 99 Red Balloons, Billie Jean and Living on a Prayer like there was no tomorrow.

At some point, our tribal instinct kicked in. This may look like a common rain dance, but its actually very complicated.

Meanwhile, we made the rookie mistake of leaving the boys to their own devices.

Here's Jo, soaking up some female love.

The place was swarming with henchmen ready to kick out any trouble-makers, but we didn't care. We laughed in the face of danger! Come and get us, we said!

Er. So they did. We got thrown out. OF THE RETRO.


WHAT!?


We were shocked and disappointed.

There's only one place (other than Maccas) open in Sydney at 3am, and that's City Extra. So we hightailed it over there for some late night burgers and chips, our last meal together before our two new friends headed back home. I'm pretty sure this is the last picture of the night. That brothel-red lighting is just the cafe we're sitting in. I mean we're not ACTUALLY in a brothel, no matter what I'm doing with my tongue.


Yep. We're just charming like that.

It was a great visit, and i think i speak for both of us when i say we had a LOT of fun and a LOT to drink. Some more than others. See you next time, peeps!

Sydney Winter Festival

Every year, the Alpine Winter Festival comes to town. An ice rink appears outside St Mary’s Cathedral, along with a marquee with open log fires and bear rugs and sleighs to sit on, and all manner of stalls selling winter comfort foods and drinks. There’s pretzels and mulled wine and crepes and jacket potatoes and pork sausages with sauerkraut, and mini Danish pancakes and the list of calories goes on. 

My old friend Kat and I (old as in we’ve been friends for a long time, not in that she IS actually old. Although, come to think of it…*sniggers*) decided to head down after work this week to check it out. If you’re in Sydney and fancy a couple of hours lounging around doing not very much, check it out! We didn’t ice skate (I’m the most uncoordinated person I know, plus I have an irrational fear that I’m going to fall over and someone will skate over my hands, thereby severing my fingers off), but we enjoyed watching everyone else making fools of themselves.

Of course, there’s always those one or two in the crowd that can actually skate properly. These are the types that like to show off their pirouettes and turns and fancy moves. They're also likely to receive withering looks from everyone else (the large majority trying to simply move forward on the ice without falling on their asses.) But whatevs. I say, bet they can’t eat a packet of Pringles in under 3 minutes like me. Its all about life skills.

They even had ice hockey demonstrations, which leads me to Irrational Fear Number Two: that a puck will come flying in my direction, hit me square in the face, and cause either severe cranial injuries or an impressive black eye. Or both. I kept my distance, don’t you worry.

It was all very wintry but the mulled wine keeps you warm. Do eat a pretzel while you’re there – those bad boys were good.

Keep calm and read a book

I’ve dropped off the blogging this last week or two – mainly because I’ve been busy reading a ton of good books. Here are my top picks!

Skippy Dies by Paul Murray I’ll start with the obvious – at over 650 and pages, this is a massive book. Even though it weighed down my handbag, I carried it with me everywhere because I couldn’t stop reading it. In short: I loved this book.

Set in a boarding school in Ireland, it essentially follows the lives of the boys and teachers who walk its halls. The book revolves around one main event – Skippy, a student at the school, does indeed die. But why? Over what? And how does his death affect the lives of everyone around him?

This novel is ambitious. There are lots of characters and lots of themes, chief amongst them the realisation that happens to all of us as we get older - life is usually not what we expected it to be. And sometimes you just have to grow up and face reality. Murray captures adolescence perfectly – in all its funny, poignant glory. He’s got his bases covered - from your friendly school psychopath to your overweight genius to your sex-obsessed teenager. And the adults in the book are equally confused, facing their flaws and failures.

Sometimes I laughed out loud, other times my heart broke. Don’t let the size put you off – the quality of Murray’s writing keeps the story flowing nicely, despite the many voices he adopts to tell his characters stories. Highly recommended, if you don't mind dark subject matter.

Faithful Place by Tana French This is the third book in this author’s repertoire and having read all of them, I think its her best. French writes mysteries at heart – but what makes hers stand out from other authors in the genre is her character development and storytelling – her books read more like literary fiction than a typical thriller.

In her latest novel I think she nails the right balance between character and mystery. 20 years ago, Frank and the love of his life, Rosie, had plans to get out of suburban Ireland for good by running away together to London. But on the night they were set to leave, she never showed.

Now, Frank’s an undercover cop in Dublin. He’s always assumed Rosie ditched him, escaping to London on her own because of his family baggage. He hasn’t been back home since that night – until now, when an old suitcase thought to be Rosie’s is uncovered. So what happened to her?

One of the highlights of this book for me was the dialogue. Despite the sad subject matter, all the Irish swearing and carrying on kept me giggling. And I grew to love Frank too, who was flawed, yet so good. This one will definitely keep you reading. 
 

A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan I don’t even know how to begin explaining this fascinating book. It’s short, but has big impact. Our two main protagonists are Bennie, a music producer, and Sasha, his assistant. Every chapter is told from the perspective of a completely different character, but every one of them is somehow associated with either Bennie or Sasha, or someone else they know.

Confused yet?

The main theme of this book is the passage of time. As you read it, you have no idea whether you’re in the past, the future, the present. You just have to hope you figure it out. Some characters age, some get younger, some aren’t born yet at different points in the book. There is no linear storyline, and frequently Egan will surprise you by letting you in on what’s going to happen to a character some 20 years down the track, before they even know it themselves.

I don’t think this will be a book for everyone, but personally I enjoyed it immensely. If you want traditional structure in a novel, this isn’t the book for you – but if you’re willing to step out of the box, give it a go. It didn’t win the Booker Prize for nothing.

The Provence Cure for the Broken Hearted by Bridget Asher I like a good love story as much as the next person, as long they aren’t sappy and over emotional – novels like the Time Travellers Wife, by Audrey Niffenegger, or One Day by David Nicholls are two that stand out for me.

This book caught my eye mainly because it was set in Provence, France (a place I’d love to visit), and because I had read so many meaty books that I wanted to read something a bit more lighthearted. But the cover, frankly, put me off. It looked like it was going to be an over the top, lovey dovey emo-fest.

In some ways, it was a bit over the top. Heidi is still grieving for her husband Henry, who died in a car accident. She feels incapable of moving on, despite the fact that it’s been 2 years since his death. By chance, she is given the opportunity to spend a summer in her mother’s family home in Provence with her son and 16 year old niece, and here she must learn to overcome her grief and live again.

Typical story – not so typical writing. I have to say, the prose is what got me about this book. It was so easy to read, but so beautifully written. Provence came alive, I could taste, touch, smell the place through Asher’s gorgeous imagery. Although she could be a bit too emotional for me, I was surprised to find all the same that she had some pretty nice insights into life, love and death. I was even more surprised to find myself tearing up at certain points in the book – highly unusual behaviour! Maybe I was just in the mood for a bit of romance, but I really enjoyed this book for what it was. A very sweet read.

To Harry, with love

Many, many years ago, a friend tossed me Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone and said "Read this. You'll love it." I remember devouring it in almost one sitting, and then feeling sorry that I'd read it so quickly because it ended too soon. This was maybe three or four years after the first book had been released, so within days i was able to go out and buy the next three installments.



I was an instant fan.

Why this series is so popular, i can't tell you. For me, it was an immediate connection. I loved the characters, i loved the magical world and mythology that Rowling had created, and i loved that there was a whole series of adventures to be had. For some reason, these are the books i find myself going back to when there's nothing else to pick up. It feels like I've read them a hundred times - its been well over a decade since i first picked them up - but i never get bored. Maybe it's a comfort thing - that i know i can escape for days into another world, be reunited with old friends who's lines i know by heart, be sure in the knowledge that good will triumph over evil. Or maybe, in what can be a crappy world, its nice to clutch a little piece of innocence in my hands, and remember what its like to be a kid, wowed by witches and wizards and wands and spells. I know the series gets darker, but still. Love and loss, elation and sadness, bravery and fear - these are all human emotions in the end. Everyone can relate.



When the movies started coming out, i was wary. But i think a real effort has been made do justice to the spirit of the books, even if it hasn't always been possible to relay every moment and character that appears within their pages. And it's been nice to see the magic come alive. I daresay the films are almost as iconic as the books - it's actually hard to read them now and not see Rupert Grint as Ron, or Daniel Radcliffe as Harry. You just can't help it, whether you like the actors or not.



Because the franchise apparently hadn't made enough money off their devoted public, a nice little publicity coup saw the last book, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, be split into two halves for the movie/s. I mean. I had to roll my eyes when i heard that. Part 1 AND Part 2? Way to drag it out guys.


Still, after years of watching them, it was (i admit) with a little sadness that my old friend and fellow Potter-lover Turnsie and I bought our tickets for the last time. Since we're suckers for An Event, we decided to farewell Harry in spectacular fashion - we would see Part 1 at 9pm, and Part 2 at 12.05am on its official release date. Naturally, this would mean taking the next day off work. By the time the damn thing finished and i got home it would be close to 3am.

We decided a small tribute to Harry would add a sense of occasion to the proceedings. Thus, Turnsie stole his nieces Official Harry Potter Wand and brought it along. Here I am, conducting an important spell.

Yup, we were proud of our little wand. We thought we were very clever indeed, bringing along a little piece of Harry to celebrate The End, as it was being called. A few people, we decided, would probably do the same - bring something Potter-ish along, maybe wear a cape, or a scarf in Gryffindor colours. Nothing over the top.



How wrong we were.


Our wand turned out to be, in a word, pitiful. I was almost embarrassed by our effort. And we called ourselves fans? For in a dazzling display of all things Harry, the REAL fans thronged outside the cinema in spectacular fashion. There were Harry's and Ron's and Hermione's, of course. There were Voldemorts (some excellent, some downright terrible - painting oneself white and donning a swimming cap does NOT a Voldemort make) and Snapes. I spotted a Dolores Umbridge and a Sybill Trelawney and a Horace Slughorn. There were the fans who decided to go slightly left-field - one girl dressed herself as the golden snitch, another as an envelope addressed to Mr H. Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs. And then there were those who wanted to dress up, but obviously had nothing Potter-related in their wardrobes - no problems, they just grabbed whatever they had handy. Bunny ears. Freddy Kruger masks. Angel wings. I'm pretty sure i saw someone dressed as a chicken.



We could do nothing but look down at our measly wand, stunned. So much for THAT idea.

We made our own fun though, in other ways. They had a display of Harry Potter memorabilia from the movies - some costumes, and Dumbledores wand and copies of the Daily Prophet.

And of course, there were plenty of movie posters. In the below shot, Turnsie realises how closely he resembles Voldemort....

...and i enjoy a Bellatrix moment (mainly because Turnsie tells me this is the character i most resemble, what with my being so cold and evil.)

When it finally got around to midnight, everyone was more than a little excited. Part 2 was meant to start at 12.05am. It didn't.


Here's a breakdown of what happened.


12.15am: No movie. Everyone believes this is just a ploy to build tension, and play along.
12.25am: Still no movie. The crowd begins to get restless. Popcorn is thrown, and angry fathers who have to work the next day decide to try and find out what's going on.
12.30am: You guessed it - no movie. People begin stamping their feet and turning their heads in frustration. There are shouts and jeers. We believe a riot will start.
12.35am: Genuine anger spreads through the cinema. Turnsie suggests we start a chant - "Harry! Harry! Harry!" Someone starts a slow clap, and soon everyone takes it up.
12.40am: A young cinema employee enters the room to inform us that there is no projectionist at present - she has been "caught up" in another cinema, and will be here soon. He is instantly booed, but valiantly attempts to continue his speech. He apologises for the inconvenience but, he continues, he will be happy to sell us all tickets to see the 3am session for only $8, should we wish to see it again straight away. Someone yells out that if the movie doesn't start soon, we won't make it to the 3am session even if we wanted to. Cinema employee makes a hasty exit.
12.45am: Crowd now begins to turn on themselves. Teenagers run up and down the aisle in a sugar-frenzy. Cinema employee returns to tell us that Harry will be on our screen in a mere 30 seconds. Hurrah!
12.50am: Movie starts. Crowd cheers. But wait! It's NOT the movie! Its a documentary on the MAKING of the movie! Crowd now in a rage. Daniel Radcliffe appears, telling Australia how thrilled he is that we've all made it to this special, midnight screening. He is emphatically booed. Food is thrown at his face. Now a chant does begin "START THE MOVIE! START THE MOVIE!"
12.55am: Movie begins. Crowd too tired to react.


Throughout both films, we witnessed behaviour that i can only call extreme. Someone yelled out at the beginning of Part 1 "Only two and a half hours until Part 2! YES!", prompting woops from the audience. A girl further down our row was sobbing - sobbing! - when the movie finished. There were crowd-led boos when Voldemort came on screen. Teenage girls screamed when our two male leads took their shirts off (Why?? I've never seen skin so pasty white!!) From cheers and whistles to claps and cries - it was all happening.


While we waited for the movies to start, Turnsie and I made good use of our time. I call this next segment Fun with Wands. You can't imagine all the things one can do with a wand when bored.



You can illuminate your nostril...

...or your pie-hole.

You can use it to practice your blowing-out-a-candle skillz...



...or to brainwash yourself.

You can smoke it like a cigar...

...or lick it like a lollipop.

You can turn yourself into a unicorn...

 

...or stick it up your nose.



You can share it...

...use it to inflict terror...

...or wear it like a moustache.

After all the fun was over, we were faced with the inevitable - the credits rolled and the curtain closed on the final installment of Harry Potter. And it was a worthy ending. There was nothing left to do except say goodbye...

...and I'll miss you.

The cutest little tea parlour in all of Sydney!

Redfern has always gotten a bad rap - it's remained rather underdeveloped despite the surrounding suburbs flourishing, probably because of the negative connotations associated with the place. It's a shame, because its one of the oldest suburbs in Sydney (and therefore packed with lots of period charm), and i can see that it has the potential to be another little Surry Hills or Darlinghurst - as long as the area stays clean and safe.



Slowly but surely though, I'll hear about a cafe or a restaurant taking its chances and opening in the area, getting the vibe going. AND, you can imagine my excitement when i heard about a little place called The Tea Parlour - serving my favourite of all things, afternoon tea.



I do believe I've tried all the best high tea's in Sydney, so i was apprehensive about this one - mainly because of the price. $20, to be exact, which will get you sweets, scones, cucumber sandwiches and tea - lots of tea. I thought it very inexpensive - most high tea's will cost you double the price, at least. This would either be the greatest bargain I'd come across in a long time, or frankly a little bit dodgy.



Thankfully, it was the former not the latter. I persuaded a friend of mine to join me this afternoon, and we were completely charmed by the place. It IS teeny tiny, but it's decked out in that Bohemian style that i love (complete with stuffed peacock and mounted deer head), and Ruby, the owner, is lovely. She makes everything herself, using her grandmothers recipes, and it's all delicious. The scones? Huge. Seriously huge - some of the best I've ever had (and you're talking to a genuine scone-lover, so i should know.) The sweets are always changing - today we got mini chocolate cakes, little fig and walnut cakes, lemon tarts, blueberry and custard pastries and plenty more. The tea comes in enormous tea pots, and you get unlimited refills. The cucumber sandwiches were refreshing and plentiful. We spent a very pleasant 2 hours eating and drinking our way through it all, and were stuffed by the end.



If you don't feel like all of that, no probs - you can get just tea and scones for 8 bucks. (Did i mention how awesome the scones were?) I highly recommend this place - and also highly recommend you make a booking, especially on weekends. The place gets pretty full. Why wouldn't it? It's good, old fashioned food at good, old-fashioned prices. I guarantee you'll be charmed - but if you don't believe me, maybe some pics will persuade you...