Weekend down south

X had a massage thingamajig to attend, so we decided to spend the weekend in Sydney. We stayed at the Novotel on Brighton le Sands, which is this really cute, coastal, still kind of bogan suburb 15 minutes away from the airport.


For some weird reason, we were given two double beds. And somewhere along the evening, X's tampering with the remote cost him AUD14.95 when he 'accidentally' clicked on the porn. *cough*

So after leaving X at daycare the conference, I took the 478 on Bay St to the Rockdale station, where I got a train ticket from a grumpy old man to the City. Hungry, I headed straight to the infamous Marigold for dim sum (known as yum char here).




Yes, I sat all by my lonesome self in the midst of tables of chattering families, nibbling on my yam puffs and prawn chee cheong fun. Unfortunately, I've been nursing a temperamental tummy for a whole week now and that was all I could stomach. The dishes were yummy though.

I then wandered about Market City. The upper levels totally remind me of Sungai Wang. Hunted down some obligatory souvenirs for the colleagues (Smiggle pens) and cosmetics for Maternal Logic. Got myself orange, seafoam green and silver nail polish. The latter is shiny enough to rival bike reflectors, I kid you not. It is made in China though so I wonder if it contains some radioactive evil shit that will shrivel my nails and cause them to drop off.

I walked past all the famous Asian hairsalons (Kippo, Ginger etc) but they were crowded. At last I wound up in one that looked reasonably busy but could slot me in. I forget the name but it was Korean and they cheated me out of a hairwash. The lady snipped away and in 15 minutes, I emerged looking somewhat like a little boy with cleavage (it was the bra, I'll admit). Here, you judge. Just ignore the lady behind me who thought she'd pose along.



The nicest parts of Sydney really, aren't the touristy Opera House/ Darling Harbour/ Harbour Bridge etc (overrated), nor the shopping malls and not even the Chinesey parts where obscure, too-sweet drinks with funny squiggly characters can be found. I discovered the lovely Eastern suburbs hidden between the main streets and Kings Cross. I wouldn't really recommend walking there at night, but I spent several hours on Saturday just wandering about, admiring the intricate lattice of the balconies, the charmingly peeling paintwork and the leafy trees and pavements purple-lined with jacaranda flowers.








See why you shouldn't wander there at night?





My attempt to swim failed as the heated pool is only open until 6pm. I did get to milk my new white bikini (never toss your wet bikini into your beachbag with your evil, evil, but so beautiful green Marc by MJ wallet in it) for all it was worth though. Note to self: Walk around in swimwear around the mall in Gold Coast and nobody notices; do the same in a hotel in Sydney and everyone will stare.

We had dinner at Mezes, which is attached to the lobby of the hotel. It's mainly Mediterranean food. The restaurant was bustling so it was a good thing X made reservations. Our waitress was this incredibly exotic thing with the most gorgeous eyes ever.


My Chai Latter Vanilla which is The Most Awesome Beverage Ever. I took one away again for breakfast. Had I not been completely stuffed from the yummy Seafood Linguine (see below), I'd have had another.


This is unbelievably good. Even better than my boss' mummy's Jewish meatball spaghetti, which is saying something.

NB: Stop calling me your boss! I am not your boss.
Jan: Yes boss.


I convinced X to get the Filet Mignon which was superb. (Top to bottom) Carrot shavings, feta block, filet mignon wrapped in bacon, vegetable filo pastry, pesto *drool*

Even more exquisite was the bill, which totalled AUD54.70 for both of us. This sort of thing on the Coast would have set us back AUD80, at least and probably not been half as good. I would have to say, this is only the second truly positive restaurant experience in Australia I've had, the first being The Balcony in Byron Bay (though they're starting to suck too).

I end our little trip with a picture of men in tights. Poor Batman (whose mask was held together with duct tape at the back) got humped by some idiot drunk. These guys were sporting enough to strike a pose anyway.



We spent Sunday in Manly, which would have probably been a nice place but it rained and poured cats, dogs, goats and dinosaurs and X and I just spent most of the time at the Ivanhoe having lunch. Well, I spent about 20 minutes in the loo which wouldn't flush, which made me flush when I exited, only to face an annoyed pregnant lady who had probably only been waiting forever. Awkward.