Thursday, February 23, 2006

 

Day 8

I wake up in the morning and take a 30 minute shower, still trying to regulate the water while I have shampoo in my hair and face and crying inside. We have breakfast, I have cereal to try to finish the milk, it expires tomorrow. We sit down and watch the soccer game on TV a bit, crazy game. When it ends the owner of the hostel asks us what we’re doing today and we tell him we want to go to the beach. I feel like he’s trying to get us out of the hostel to steal our shit, so I’m very wary of the situation. He gives us detailed information on which bus to take and we decide we have nothing to lose and it’ll let us see the place a little better, so we gather our stuff and head for the bus across the street. We get on the bus and pay the $3.70 toll each and sit down for about 30 minutes. The bus stops directly on the beautiful Coogee beach and we’re happy once again, almost as happy as when we found out we finally had a weak signal for wireless internet. We hang out on the beach for about 4 hours and walk up and down some of the streets. We finally get on the bus on the way back and ask if there are student discounts (jewishness kicks in), apparently it’s $1.80 each with the student card so I get a little happier as now I have a pretty good tan and a cheaper way back home. We get off the bus and go to our rooms for some relaxing time. Surprise, my laptop’s still there (the reason why I’m still typing this) and I’m starting to feel tired from the sun after effects. Should have worn a hat today. It didn’t help much either that I was wearing an orange “Los Angeles County Jail” t-shirt I picked up in Cali, as I was getting strange stares from other people. People here can’t take a joke. But regardless, it fit the situation we were in, because our room still looks like a jail cell. I miss my girlfriend, I wish she was here. Meanwhile Ali G season 1 keeps me sane and smiling. We end the night with a large portion of macaroni and tomato sauce, followed by a soccer game on tv and jay leno.

Comments:
its nice reading about your stories and everything. i miss you guys, life here is crap.

i wanna see pics!

be safe and represent,
dave
 
That's so sweet Gaby, I miss you too honey, but you know I can't stand a smoker!
 
:(
 
Wow, your stories are hysterical. And you said i had writing talent? Wonder how the story would go in a not so civilized exchange city (im thinking Grozhny). Oh and if the locals get upset over your jail t-shirts, its probably because, like us bastard children descendants of hookers in Quebec (les filles du roy), they are all descendants of convicts and hard labourers. ;-)
Miss ya tons, Mammie sends her love.
 
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