Chapter 5: Help me I'm melting!

Well, Australia was my terra incognito, and so far it’s not been what I expected. I think I was expecting a bigger, more cosmopolitan version of Capetown, something of Europe, but instead I got something which was shockingly new world, modern, full of highways, skyscrapers and neon. Instead of Capetown, I got Los Angeles in a parallel universe. In fact, I think the original colonialist doctrine of terra nullius (that there was no one here when the first Europeans arrived, patently false but obviously convenient) still holds. There really, really are no people here; only replicants.

Last night after the Harbour Party, which was held on a strip of land overlooking the Opera House and the Sydney Harbour Bridge - beautiful - we took a boat across the harbour to a nightclub called Home, all glass, steel, space age materials, and light. Huge. The boys were more American than the Americans themselves. Yikes! It's quite fitting, really, that the money is plastic too.

In many ways Sydney reminds me a lot of Vancouver except (a) Vancouver doesn’t have the Opera House (b) it’s a LOT hotter and more humid here (help me, I’m melting!) (c) the sea in Vancouver has a much brinier, more organic, soupier smell and it’s greener too (d) the air here smells of eucalyptus rather than pine and cedar. I’m staying in a hotel called the W, on Wooloomooloo Wharf. Try saying that to the taxi driver after a few drinks! Anyway, the W is very chic, but is very dark, like the Royalton in New York. I feel like I’m staying in a rabbit warren. The guests all wear black, and drink sophisticated cocktails out of impossible glasses, but have AustRAYleeeeannnnn accents that will shatter glass, I'm sure. But the bed is spectacularly comfortable, and I’ve never felt cotton sheets sooooooo soft; how will I ever sleep on a rattan matt in Bali after this? Anyway, currently I’m sleeping lots, perhaps catching up! I’ve done little of the touristy things so far, but this week is my week to do ALL of that, and tops of my list is the Museum of New South Wales which has the biggest collection of aboriginal art anywhere in the world. Took a walk today in the Botannical Gardens, and looked at the strange plants, so different. Today in the Gardens I heard the chittering of birds and looked up to see a tree festooned with huge bats, like dark furry fruits. Clearly I'm not alone in thinking it's pretty hot, cause even the bats were unfurling their wings to fan themselves, like Victorian laidies at a risque play. In the Botanical Gardens I noticed that even the grass is different here, soft and feathery and light green, not like the razor hasping lawn of Africa or the cultivated pelts of England. The seaweed here is light lime green too, the exact colour of the lawn. The birds are Sacred ibises or sulpher crested cockatoos and noisy, like hawdidas or ravens. Still, I've not yet seen those classic antipodean oddities, the Koalas or Kangaroos, but I've a feeling it's only a matter of time!

Anyway, so what else have been doing? Well, I went with Ian and some friends of his to see a divine country and western drag queen (and I HATE drag) called Tina C, who sang her own songs, delicious titles of which included: "I became schizophrenic so I could love you twice as much" and "Is my finger too big for your ring?" and "No dick is as hard as my life". In fact, gay Sydney seems to be ruled by drag queens. Even the cute muscle boys do drag; steroids in the morning, and makeup after dark. It's too, too weird. Sitting atop the pyramid of Sydney's gay life you can be sure is a drag queen, in makeup that's running (it's that darn heat again!). I don't understand, but then I suppose that's because I haven't gotten in touch with my inner Drag Queen.

Well, that's all for now. If my Inner Drag Queen does make an appearance, I'll be sure to feed her to the Great White Sharks! I'll write more later.