Trio unites in Sydney!

As soon as Riley and I exited the plane and headed through customs, it became apparent that we maybe we wouldn’t easily understand Aussies in their accent. Going through the agricultural inspection I was questioned by the officer about what I was bringing into the country and clarifying information about my form; simple enough I thought. But, all things went south when he asked me if I was a surveyor all I could hear from his mouth was, “survivor.”

“Am I survivor?” I asked in return. Riley, standing behind me, could also not decipher what he was saying and just shook her head. Eventually, the officer handed me the form and I understood what he was asking. But by then a crowd of officials were standing around me probably thinking that I was unfit to travel in their country if I couldn’t even understand someone who speaks perfect English.

After he let us through customs, Riley and I could only think of one place we needed to go- the bathroom to change out of our jeans and smelly clothes. But, even asking an airport worker, “Where’s the bathroom?” proved difficult in itself. It was like they had never heard the word “bathroom” before in their life, along with synonyms like “washroom,” “restroom,” “the john,” etc. that we kept using in question. Once we found out that the Aussie’s refer to the bathroom as simply “the toilets,” and the washroom as the “powder room", the same man who we asked for directions from had only one question for us. “Do you have a towel?” He probably guessed we hadn’t showed in a week from how we looked.

We were able to catch a shuttle from the airport to our hostel, with only minor inconveniences along the way, and when we arrived Annie was right there screaming with excitement and holding her arms wide. With emotions running high, it didn’t take us long to settle into place and head out into the town, using Annie as the city’s tour guide. After 5 days spending Sydney on her own, Annie certainly had a bearing for where we were at all times and how to quickly get from one touristy place to another around town. I think we spent somewhere close to 7 hours walking around hitting up places such as the Opera House and the Harbor Bridge, before our feet had had enough and showed signs of blisters.

One thing that we found out really quick about the Australian culture is that people here are sooo nice; maybe too nice. Anytime we pulled out a map (only to open it for 30 seconds), we were swarmed by Aussie’s interested in directing us where to go or wondering how they could help. One time when we told a man where we were headed, he turned around in the opposite direction he was going and walked with us nearly five blocks just to make sure we’d make it there. And, when Riley and I bought beach towels at a grocery store the cashier held up the long line for at least 5 minutes to tell us what beaches she’d recommend we walk or swim at, the best way to get there, where buses depart, and even took the time to draw us a map to help us on our way. I’m near positive that would never happen in the States.