Home for the Holidays

Home for the Holidays

With another typhoon threatening Vietnam – I contemplated my options. Option 1: Stay put, and risk spending the holidays in a wet dorm. Versus Option 2: Nip home for a surf and some solid free loading. Not a tough call. I wont let a typhoon ruin my holiday.

I flew into Sydney – a town of sun, sand, and militant jihadis. This modern city was established as a penal colony in 1788. The place was harsh. Misfits and criminals hacked out their fragile lives from a menacing landscape. They lived in squalor. It was hot, dirty, and flyblown. But that was then…

Sydney’s modern-day convict is a slave to the wage. Chinese billionaires have replaced our British overlords. And iron shackles are now absurd monthly rents. It’s been over 200-years, and look how far we’ve come…

Next was Melbourne – the jealous little sister. Not being the prettiest Aussie daughter, she decided to go hipster. The city has more beards per capita now than before federation.

I played hipster bingo. The first one to spot a top-knot, kale, and someone with an equivocal gender wins a fair-trade macchiato. You scoff, but that’s worth about eight bucks down there. While sipping on the spoils I overheard a conversation: “you know, it’s all about the corporations man, we are the 99 per-cent”. No, Clarence, you’re the one per-cent. There’s more childish angst here than at a Good Charlotte gig.

The mayor of Melbourne

Thankfully, my last stop took me to the real Australia – a quiet country town in the middle of nowhere. I’m in Scotts Head – with just a beach, a board, a bbq, and some beers. I’m off to India next week. But, for now, I’m far from the madding crowd. What’s it like, you ask. Should I go to Scotts Head? Well, no. It’s crap. Please never come here. Don’t be a typhoon and try ruin my holiday.

2 Replies to “Home for the Holidays”

  1. We were travelling up the Pacific Highway the other day and saw the exit Scott’s Head, I considered going in for a look and possibly an eggplant Parma at the bowls club, but then I remembered that the road (if you could call it that) was more dangerous and impassable and than a mountain track in Kashmir.