Wifi is like crack when you’re traveling. Once you find a hot spot, nothing else matters except your tiny window of communication with the world. You never want to leave it, and when you actually have left it, you’re wondering when you can get back to it. It feels so wrong to be so addicted to on-screen social experiences, but on the other hand, it IS the only method of communication to loved ones back home. I think that’s what was hardest for me the following days in Sydney–the inability to talk to Adam whenever I wanted, or to let family know what I was up to at any point in time.

But we press on. The second day in Sydney saw us bent over our iPhone screens for 30 minutes of wifi at Starbucks before we boarded a bus to Bondi Beach.

FYI there’s graffiti on the buses there too.

It was a bit gloomy but not bad at all for a beach visit. Especially when you’re in Sydney for the first time, because pretty much anything sounds good always. So we got to Bondi beach and took a shit load of goofy and decent pictures.

And wouldn’t you know it? The beach had free wi-fi.

But it was all a pitiful sham. The wifi wasn’t really there, because we couldn’t access it. It was just a nice looking sign and a lie if I ever saw one, and none of us could connect to this falsely advertised wifi freedom. But we pressed on.

As we walked along the beach we saw a bunch of cool graffiti art. So much that I could never post enough pictures of it, but here are a few good ones.

And then there was this cool wall with different hats painted on it that you could sit under, one of which is my current Facebook profile picture.

Then, before we decided to venture towards the water to touch this side of the Pacific and the accompanying sand, we needed food, and more specifically, fish, chips, and booze. We found this great little place called The Bucket List if I remember correctly, and it turned out to be one of my favorite memories of our time in Sydney. The restaurant was painted a light blue inside, and had upside down wicker basket buckets over the lights, with art all over the walls. It was so artsy and awesome, the urge to Instagram everything was overpowering. Here are some of the shots we got inside the place.

And outside the chairs were crates!

And let me tell you, they served a mean basket of fish and chips. There was also this awesome drink called Race An Ostrich In Asia that was incredibly terrific. Something with vodka and something. It was orange and out of this world.

When we went to feel the sand a short time afterward, which by the way felt and looked exactly like brown sugar, I ended up going further out on the shore than I realized, soiling my boots completely from an unexpected wave of water. But I was in Sydney, so I pressed on. After Bondi we hopped on a bus to see the Tower, the tallest building (tower?) in Sydney, but we stopped at a few places on our way: the Anzac memorial, St. Mary’s cathedral, and this place called the Mint, where they make all the coins. The mint turned out to be a bust because it was closed, but the restroom was open, which we used, so technically that still counts as a visit.

By the time we got to the Tower my feet were a bit pained, but we pressed on. We bought tickets for the Tower and the Aquarium. The tower was awesome. It probably would have been more awesome were we able to have drinks and dinner up there, but it was a beautiful view none the less. This is what it looked like from the ground.

And this is what it looked like from above.

We were also there when some major thing happened. Apparently someone left the door open to go outside on the balcony of the tower and some kids got out. You can’t walk out there without being firmly strapped in since it’s so dangerous and windy, but I guess some tour guide left the door open. It was no bueno, so there was a lot of security everywhere, and we pressed on.

We ended up stopping for a drink break afterward at this little pub that looked awesome on the outside but exactly like the reception area to a realtor’s office on the inside. It was really weird. Either way, we had a pint and toasted to life.

Then it was off to the aquarium. At this point I think we were all slowly getting a bit tired, but no one admitted to it. It was only 6pm, and I was exhausted. I thought it was still from lack of plane sleep, but I soon found out that I’d be spending the entire week being exhausted by 6pm, because that meant it was 1am in Los Angeles.

Needless to say, towards the mid to end of the Aquarium viewing, we were starting to get a bit hungry and tired. By the time we decided to book it home for some Chinese food and possibly more Apples to Apples, it started to rain. Arthur said we’d have about a 30 minute walk back to the hotel, and at the outset that didn’t sound too bad, but it turned out to be fucking rough. No one had an umbrella but Andrew, and it was pouring with dozens and dozens of people everywhere. I was astounded at the number of people on the streets. It could have been like New York if I’d ever been there, but since I haven’t, I wouldn’t know. Arthur said it was a bit like Europe, but I’ve never been there either. One day. I’m a world traveler now.

By the time we reached the hotel we were all pretty burnt out as fuck, and soaked to the liver. The one thing we did agree on though, was Chinese food. That seemed to be the consensus. We dried off and set back out to a place that can only be defined as Chinese food row. I’m not sure exactly where we were in Sydney, but we walked up this alley where there were literally a dozen Chinese food restaurants lined up one after the other, with their owners out in front approaching passersby with menus and meal deals.

After finally deciding on a place, we made the trek back home in the rain and ate ravenously before drinking a little more for a nice sleep.

Probably the biggest thing of note on the next and last day of Sydney was the Harbour bridge clime. This was Wednesday, the day before we left. The Harbour bridge is pretty iconic in Sydney, and sits about 40 stories high.

At any given moment, there are tiny groups of people trekking to the top of it, rain or shine, including Will Ferrell.

It was pretty expensive, but seemed fun in theory, and adventurous, and momentous, and unforgettable. And I maybe was talked into it by Arthur. I envisioned a sunny day, climbing a few steps to the top, completely strapped in and carefree. What I got was layers upon layers of clothing, droplets of rain all over, thin wooden beams to cross (with thin rails) right over the water, slippery metal, and lots of nervous tension in my everywhere there are body parts.

But don’t get me wrong, it was awesome.

The worst part of the entire thing was the ladder part. There are four medium sized ladders you have to climb before you get to the actual bridge climb over the arc, which is basically just a long metal staircase. Each ladder can only be climbed by one person at a time, so when it’s your turn to go, it’s just you and your own quiet insanity. I didn’t think too much of it waiting for my turn to go. We were under the bridge and couldn’t see above us, so when I saw each person go up the ladder and out of sight, I thought it was just a short ladder up and then the other few were scattered over more of the bridge. But I was fucking wrong. That shit was like ladder after ladder after ladder after ladder, all by yourself. And it’s not that it was just ladder after ladder, it was metal and slippery, and after the first one, you have to sort of climb out on to this platform adjacent to the ladder, before climbing up the next one.

When it was my turn to  go, I climbed up the first ladder, and felt confused. There was no one around. What happened to the people who went up before me? When I looked up, all I could see were ladders and metal extending upwards, and not a single person. Was I supposed to be going this way?

After the first ladder, I flipped out because I had to climb three more on my own. But I couldn’t let myself spaz out. There were people below waiting for me to go up, so I had to do it. It wasn’t like I could just climb back down. I was in a group. So I gripped the rungs on the ladder for dear fucking life. I told myself to just go slow and do it one at a time. I could feel myself getting higher and higher, while the rain trickled all around me. I could hear the cars from the highway below me. Below me. And as I climbed each rung in the ladder I could sense a growing distance between myself and the water below. Looking to my left or my right was death and out of the question, because there was nothing but water, sky, and cars below. There was no way I could concentrate on anything else but the ladder rungs in front of me. My inner nut case had to be sedated, because it was like climbing up the side of a tall building. It got to the point where I was just climbing a ladder, and I could see everything everywhere. It was scary as fuck.

I wasn’t afraid of falling into the water or onto the highway, because I was firmly strapped to the bridge. It was falling down each section of the ladders that scared the shit out of me. Each ladder held about 15-20 rungs on it, but I was afraid that when I’d got the top of each ladder I’d slip or slide down it, seriously injuring myself. Especially because it was so slippery and metal-ly everywhere.

When I finally made it to the top, the tour guide was smiling at me and all of the rest of our group was slowly ascending to the top of the bridge on what looked like very comfortable and non-threatening metal steps. I breathed a sigh of relief, and started to feel my body again. The tour guide started making conversation with me, but all I could think about was how high we were, and how I’d just climbed four fucking ladders on a bridge 40 fucking stories high. I was sweating all over the place, with simultaneous cold chills from the rain. It was the most insane experience ever.

The rest of the way was okay. We made it to the top of the bridge, and took a few pictures. And the steps going up and over the arc were really far away from the edge, so there was no real threat. It was still CRAZY to look out and see how high we were though.

After we stood at the top of the bridge for a bit, we started to cross over the highway where we took another picture for shits and giggles. This part was scarier. Remember those wooden beams with thin rails I mentioned walking over at the outset of this bridge climb rant? That’s what we walked over at the top, over the highway, where we stood for longer than I care to remember. Only this time it was a long metal beam, not wooden ones, and there wasn’t much separating us from certain death.

By the time we had to climb back down those fucking ladders, I was tired, hungry, cold, and shaky. It took everything I had not to completely freak the fuck out and freeze in fright mid-ladder. I had to count, and breathe. I counted each step down because it helped me remember my sanity. By the time we reached the end of the climb, I was ready to drink myself into a stupor, and eat mountains of carbohydrates. And since this was our last night in Sydney, we did get a little drunk.

We ended up partying like rockstars in the hotel room, before walking (drunkenly) to this Polish restaurant Arthur wanted to check out. By the time we got there, I felt like I had been drinking all day, and I was tapped out. But I drank more and pressed on. We ended eating some pretty good grub and I videotaped a lot. Turns out, it was a good thing I did videotape, because no one remembers a thing from that dinner.

After dinner we made our way over to this little karaoke place near our hotel. It was awesome because they had private rooms where you could sing your little heart out in front of your friends versus strangers. We stayed there for about an hour, then made our way to Cheers, a bar a couple of blocks away from the karaoke place. Cheers is supposed to be the place where everybody knows your name but no one really cared to know ours. I also found out that that bar was open until 6 in the bloody AM. SIX AM. Could you imagine?

So that was our time in Sydney! I glazed over a lot because time, but that was the gist. Next post I’ll talk a little bit about the Brisbane part of our trip, which was where we traveled the next day, and have been about 5 days now. Also, as soon as I get home I’m going to put together an entire Mursa Pie video about this whole experience. I have so much video footage it’s insane. I can’t wait.

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Monique Muro

Monique is an exceedingly happy human from LA. She runs the blog A Novel Quest, and writes. A lot.

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