I have arrived in Sydney, Australia.
After 28 hours or so of traveling, I finally hit Australian soil around 7 a.m. Thursday, Sept. 24. And let me tell you, the wait was worth it.
After a dust storm invaded the city Wednesday, the weather was immaculate Thursday. There was barely a cloud in the sky, and the warm sun felt perfect, without barely a hint of humidity. Not a bad way to start off spring in the country.
As for sight-seeing, Brandyn and I walked around Balmain Harbour for about an hour. It was pretty breath-taking, with cool blue water gently overturning, boats swaying on the surface and the backdrop of downtown Sydney hovering in the distance. We were also pumped that there's a fantastic running/walking route that hugs the water and circles around the place. I can't wait to throw on my running kicks and adventure around the area some more.
Still, the thing that has most likely frozen me in my tracks the most is the excessive use of the word "mates." I thought that mates was just a stereotype of Australians, sort of like how all French people supposedly stink or all Russians just drink vodka and wear awesome hates.
At first, I thought it was like a joke on me. I figured the locals realized I was a tourist and were just trying to live up to the hype, or whatever you would like to call it. But this is no joke.
Whether you venture to the grocery, park, or local pub, you will no longer be referred by any name, but instead as mate. Thus, there's no doubt I'll be slinging the word around minute-by-minute after about a week. Heck, it's already starting to creep into my vocabulary after about one day.
So until next time, take care, mates.
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