I got to boogie

I love the nightlife, I got to boogie

I love the nightlife
Daniel had organised for a big night out to show me all that the Sydney gay scene had to offer. Following the excitement of being shouted at by an irate homeowner for taking photos of his house earlier in the day I was in need of a stiff drink. We walked down into Newtown to the Bank Hotel where we were joined by some of Daniel’s friends. Our little gang consisted of Craig, Kurt, who I had met a couple of times before, and Ferry, a Dutch friend of Kurt’s. Over our first beer I asked why a large number of the pubs in Australia seemed to have “hotel” in the name despite there being no discernible place to sleep. The consensus seemed to be that it related to when licensing laws were stricter and places could open longer to serve alcohol if they were a hotel, regardless of whether you were actually staying there or not. It sounded plausible but they could have been making it up. I am a firm believer that if you say anything with enough confidence then people will believe you.

We recounted our day – salty spray, swimming and Sylvania Waters – over spicy Thai food at a place called Thai Rific. Who doesn’t like a restaurant with a pun for a name? It reminded me of a sandwich shop close to my old office called “Get the Focaccia” which made me chuckle every time I passed it. The first stop on our tour of the Sydney gay scene was within walking distance – The Imperial Hotel. The place was used in the opening scene of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert making it the second famous(ish) location I had visited that day. There was a karaoke contest going on but they were taking a bit of a break between singers, the drag queen in charge trying to get the crowd to vote for one of three singers by cheering for their favourite. Having not heard any of them singing I cheered for all three which I thought was only fair. The break meant that we could enjoy our beer and conversation without having to listen to anyone ruining a good song with their bad singing. We only stayed for one drink, leaving just as the singers started again.

Kurt and Ferry headed off, leaving me, Daniel and Craig to get a taxi to Oxford Street. Our first venue was the Stonewall Hotel. The downstairs bar was absolutely packed and a bouncer was directing people straight upstairs to a second bar that was equally packed. We finally got through the crowds and after waiting a while made it to the bar. Both Craig and I had found a space along the bar, both of us trying to catch the attention of the barman. Despite staring right at the barman he didn’t make eye contact, serving other people at one end of the bar who had only just got to the front. There are certain things that put me off a venue and bar staff who don’t have any clue at all as to the order of people in line at the bar is one of them. I can forgive the odd occasion where a barman misses me out to serve some hotter/younger/fitter but the guy behind the bar was clueless. Luckily Craig was of the same opinion as me and after a couple of minutes of waiting we gave it up as a bad job and left.

I got to boogie

We crossed Oxford Street and went in to The Oxford Hotel, which was much quieter and where we had no problem getting to the bar or getting served. The place might have been quieter on account of the interesting characters that seemed to be frequenting the place. One of the staff members was sweeping up a large quantity of hair from the floor. Daniel explained that they had a naked barber on certain nights and you could get your head shaved for $10. The barber had gone so I wasn’t able to get my hair cut although it was in need of doing. In the middle of the room was a guy using one of the tall tables to prop himself up, one arm draped across the table, his head rested on it as he swayed back and forth. He looked like he was drunk and possibly on the verge of throwing up or passing out. Having reached into his bag for something he proceeded to clean his arms with what I can only assume was some sort of anti-bacterial alcohol wash. We watched for a while, amused and confused until he finally stopped cleaning his arms and proceeded to fall asleep while stood up, his head resting on the table. The next character was a rather enthusiastic Asian lady who insisted on talking to Craig despite the fact that he couldn’t understand a word she was saying. She appeared to be trying to get him to dance. Or maybe marry her. It was hard to tell. I was just pleased that the nutters were avoiding me for a change. We only stayed for one drink, making our exit when the lady headed off to chat to someone else.

The next stop on our tour was Arq, just off Oxford Street on Flinders Street. As we walked down the stairs into the bar I heard a familiar voice say “You are f**king kidding me”. It was the nightmare ex-colleague with the drinking problem I had been telling Daniel about earlier that day. I had heard from a mutual friend that he was back in Sydney for Christmas and New Year but I figured Sydney was big enough to make bumping into each other randomly highly unlikely. Clearly it wasn’t. After I said hello he told me he was just heading outside for a cigarette and he would catch up with me shortly. We went in and made our way to the bar. Daniel asked who it was and I told him, both of us marvelling at fate and the chain of events that had led us to be in the same place at the same time. Had we arrived a minute earlier we probably wouldn’t have spotted each other in the crowded bar, a minute later he might have already gone before we arrived.

We got some drinks and found a spot to stand. The ex-colleague found us and I introduced him to Daniel. He was, true to form, absolutely wasted. His eyes had that slightly glazed look that I had noticed on plenty of occasions at work events, a sign that I needed to try and keep him away from the free bar and clients as long as possible. He talked about himself, his new flat and his new job, told me about his holiday back home to Oz and then said he had to go find his friends. He didn’t bother to ask me how my trip was going. We stayed at Arq long enough to watch some of the drag act that was on, not the best that I have seen on my travels but not the worst either. Craig said his goodbyes and left Daniel and me to it. We decided to head elsewhere, managing to get out without me bumping into the drunken nightmare again.

On our way out Daniel spotted one of his friends who asked us where we were headed. We had been about to get a taxi home but we decided a nightcap couldn’t hurt. We went back to Stonewall, which was now a lot quieter, allowing us to get served at the downstairs bar without any trouble. We only stayed for one before Daniel suggested we finish off the night with a trip to Palms for a bit of a dance, Daniel assuring me that the music was suitable cheesy. The place was about half full (or empty if you are a pessimist) but the majority of people were on the dancefloor. We had a couple of drinks and danced to the music. It was perfect for me – a good mix of classic pop songs from the 1970s onwards to current pop chart toppers. I'm one of those people who needs a song with lyrics I know in order to dance. By the time we made our way home in the early hours I felt like I had been shown a good selection of what Sydney had to offer and having visited three "hotels" in one night I was ready for bed. More importantly I had made it through the evening without being poked by a nutter.

“I love the nightlife, I got to boogie” 
Lyrics from I Love the Nightlife from the musical Priscilla, Queen of the Desert

Blow, Gabriel blow!

Go on and blow, Gabriel, blow! I've been a sinner, I've been a scamp

Go on and blow, Gabriel, blow!  

We got off to an early start the following morning as we had a lot planned for the day. We headed south out of Sydney, driving down the coast towards Kiama. We stopped along the coast so I could get some photos from a lookout spot on the way. After we had parked up in Kiama our first task was to source some breakfast. We found a spot on the main street and got a table outside in the sun. After bacon butties and coffee we walked down to see the Kiama blowhole. I had made all the obvious jokes about blowing, holes and salty spray well ahead of our arrival. We stood for a while watching the water shooting up from the hole in the rocks, the children in the crowd screeching and squealing every time it blew. I managed to get a few photos without getting wet. The amazing natural beauty was ever so slightly ruined by a rather large woman in a rather small leopard print bikini who was sunbathing right in the middle of grass next to the car park, not the most suitable of places to work on her tan.

From Kiama we made our way down to Gerroa where we picked up a coffee. The drive took us past a couple of buildings that Daniel had designed and he was keen to point them out. We chatted a lot about work during the journey. We talked about what it was like to be gay in the workplace, swapping stories of how colleagues would put their foot in it by saying things without thinking. I recounted how my appraiser had once told me “the best way to get ahead was to be completely straight”. She had meant direct but I had raised an eyebrow at which point she fell over herself to explain what she had meant. She had also once turned down an offer of help from a keen American lawyer saying to me “we don’t need his help do we, we are big girls”. Not only was she calling me a girl, she was calling me a big one. In retaliation I named her next project at work “Project Blouse”.

I told Daniel about the LGBT network at my former workplace that I had helped to set up and run for a few years. Daniel asked whether it had all been easy and fun. For the most part it had. I had got to do some great things as head of the network and had ended up attending various events and mixing with celebrities. I had once been at an awards event where I got chatting to Victoria Wood who had been nominated for something or other. I had been that excited about meeting her that I had invited her to my upcoming birthday party. She never turned up though, although that might have been due to the fact that in my excitement I hadn’t actually told her where it was being held. I am sure she would have turned up otherwise.

I've been a sinner

There were some parts of it that I didn’t enjoy having to deal with. I told him the story of one particular guy, an Australian, who had a tendency of getting very drunk at the network events and then behaving rather inappropriately. Every time a new event was announced he would email me asking if there were going to be free drinks at it, which I think formed the basis of his decision to attend or not. Following one event a client contact had made a few comments about his behaviour and I felt somehow responsible. It was like being a babysitter. I wanted to ban him from attending events until he learned how to act his age and in a manner more becoming to a grown adult. It was nice to hand over that responsibility when I stepped down from the network. 

The next place on our itinerary was Seven Mile Beach. We parked up, heading through the wooded track down to the beach. There was a group of people at a surf school close to where we had got on to the beach so we had walked further down to a quieter spot. We had brought swimwear and towels and having checked that I was unlikely to be attacked by jellyfish or sharks I went for a swim. The current was pretty strong and it took effort to try and remain in the same spot. The water was refreshingly cold after a morning walking around in the hot sun. After the swim and drying off we walked back up the beach. The surf school people had gone. They had been our reference point as to which track we needed to take back through the woods to get to the car. The whole length of the beach looked remarkably similar and we struggled to find the path back. We finally found a track and decided to take it. I got a little melodramatic, saying how we would be wandered lost around the outback for days. We had overshot the parking place by quite some way but found the main road, walking back until we got to the car.

I've been a scamp

After a late lunch in Berry we headed back into town, calling in to see a couple of Daniel’s friends, Connor and Scott, who had recently opened a pizza place in Miranda. Over some amazingly tasty garlic bread that they insisted we try we chatted about the area as I had spotted a sign for Sylvania on our way in. I asked if that was the same place that Sylvania Waters had been filmed. It was. The others were surprised that I had heard of the show, figuring it was just an Australian thing. It was one of the very first “reality” TV shows, being broadcast way back in 1992. A quick internet search and we had the address. Daniel said that we could drive by on our way back to his. We found the street and pulled up outside the house. I put the passenger window down so I could get some photos. After taking a couple of photos the upstairs window of the house opened and a rather angry looking guy peered out. The conversation went something like this:

Him:     What are you doing?

Me:      Taking a photo of the house

Him:     Why are you taking a photo of my house?

Me:      Because it was on a TV show twenty years ago

Him:     You can’t just turn up and take a photo of my house

Me:      I just have

Him:     Well you can’t

Me:      Well I can and I have. There is no law against it

At this point I turned to Daniel and asked if there was a law against it and suggested that we should leave. The guy looked like he was about to get a baseball bat or shotgun and I figured it was time that we were no longer there. I was pleased we hadn’t got out of the car to take the photos as it meant our getaway was speedy, although there were no screeching tyres as we set off. It certainly got the adrenalin pumping. I figured the guy living there must have known about the history of the house. We had found the right house with a simple internet search. Once back at Daniel’s I was really tempted to change the Wikipedia entry for Sylvania Waters to include the address and a note saying that Noeline still lived there and was happy to give you a guided tour if you knocked on the door.

“Go on and blow, Gabriel, blow! I've been a sinner, I've been a scamp” 
Lyrics from Blow, Gabriel blow from the musical Anything Goes

Never gone surfing

I've never gone surfing, or ran with a crowd

I've never gone surfing

Dave and Brian “handed” me over to my next host, Daniel, who jokingly asked if there was anything he should know about how to look after me, such as not feeding me after midnight or getting me wet. After being shown round Daniel’s place and dropping off my luggage we headed out for a drive, making our way to Balmain for a wander round and a coffee. I got my cappuccino to go (yes, I was humming the Girls Aloud song at the time) and we walked down to the harbour. As we wandered round Daniel told me of the various things that he thought we could go and see during my few days with him. He had picked things that were out of the city on the basis that I would be able to do things in the city more easily on my own. He said that he was happy to drive and visit them all as it had been a while since he had been to most of the places he was suggesting.

After our walk around Balmain and some lunch we took a drive north to visit one of the suggestions on Daniel’s list, Palm Beach, home of Home and Away. There was no filming going on but we did get to see the “Summer Bay” surf life saving station. There were a couple of hardy surfers out on the water but the beach itself was fairly quiet and we walked the entire length of it. At the southern end of the beach was a rocky headland and we carefully picked our way along through the rockpools. I wasn’t sure where we were headed but we soon came to a huge boulder covered in aboriginal carvings. After getting a few photos I ventured closer to the waters edge to try and get some photos of the waves. Just as I got there a huge wave came up and drenched me. I didn’t turn into a gremlin. Luckily I had dried out by the time we got back to the car to head back to Daniel’s.

That evening we headed out for a few drinks with some of Daniel’s friends. One of them, Rick, was celebrating his birthday and we met him and a lot of other people at the Shakespeare Hotel. Daniel and I got ourselves some drinks and I was introduced to Rick, the birthday boy, and Kurt, a friend of Daniel’s. I chatted to lots of different guys and everyone was very friendly and welcoming.  After a while about a dozen of us made our way to Oxford Street, an area that hosted a number of the gay venues in Sydney. I wasn’t paying to much attention on where we were headed but it seemed that the place we had been aiming to go for drinks was closed so we ended up in a place called The Midnight Shift, or “The Shift” for short. I’d noticed that Australians had a tendency to shorten words or phrases quite often. A newsreader had talked about “the pokies this arvo” instead of “the poker machines this afternoon” during the news. You would never get that on the BBC. The Shift was just finishing off a quiz night when we got there, most of the people in the one room leaving the other room with the dancefloor quiet enough for us to get a space for us all to stand with a couple of tall tables for our drinks.

Or ran with a crowd
There were a couple of people on the dancefloor who looked pretty hammered despite the early hour. One guy was very enthusiastically dancing with a girl who he was throwing around the dancefloor in such a way that some form of bodily injury seemed inevitable. They seemed to be attempting to do the lift move from Dirty Dancing. I pointed them out to Daniel and the two of us watched for a while.  As though realising that her limbs might be in danger the girl headed off to the side to carry on drinking despite her dance partner trying to coax her back on to the dancefloor. He finally gave up and resumed dancing, like a nutter, on his own. We returned to our conversations, forgetting about the man until a while later when he suddenly appeared near us. He poked me in the back and I tried to ignore it, carrying on talking with Daniel who was stifling a laugh at my misfortune. The man poked a couple more times and I turned to acknowledge him, hoping that it was his finger that he had poked me with. He spoke at me but the combination of whatever he had been drinking/taking and his slurred Australian accent meant that I couldn’t even begin to guess what he was saying. I turned back to Daniel but the man continued poking for a while, me telling him to stop having no effect. Daniel was by this time laughing, telling me that I had clearly pulled and that if I wanted to head off with the nutter I was more than welcome to. I glared at Daniel. Finally the drunk man left me alone and we made our escape. Why do I always attract the weirdos?

The next day started with a hearty breakfast out in Newtown with a couple of Daniel’s friends at a place called Citrus. It set me up for the day of sightseeing that lay ahead. We were joined after breakfast by Rick who seemed to be only slightly hungover from his birthday celebrations of the previous day. On our way out to the Blue Mountains we also collected Kurt and we were soon off for our big gay day out. I was in the passenger seat but thankfully Daniel knew where he was going so I didn’t have to do any navigating. It seemed a lot of other people were taking advantage of not being at work and the sun being out to head up to the mountains and we sat in traffic for a while. Kurt and Rick kept us entertained by playing Youtube videos of such Australian cultural classics like the latest Aussiebum advert.

We lunched in Luera before making our way to Katoomba. We walked to the viewing platform to get a good look at The Three Sisters, three large sandstone formations that tower above the valley. It was an amazing sight and I stood for a while taking in the views, trying to block out the chatter of the hundreds of other people milling around the viewing area. From the viewing area we took the path down through the bush to get a closer look of the Sisters. It was my first bit of Australian bushwalking but given the number of people on the track I wasn’t worried that we would encounter any dangerous wildlife. Our walk lead us to the top of the Giant Staircase, a rather steep descent down the side of the cliff to the valley floor. We got about half way down the stairs before deciding that we probably didn’t have enough time to make it all the way to the bottom and back up again before sunset. The climb up was done in silence, not by just us but pretty much everyone else climbing the stairs.  

After a full day out we decided on a night in, opting to open a bottle of wine and have dinner at Daniel’s. A friend of Daniel’s joined us and over dinner we discussed my thoughts on Australia so far and I was asked the important question of whether I preferred Sydney or Melbourne. Given I was in the presence of two Sydneysiders I answered very diplomatically although I had enjoyed both places. The feel of the two is very different though. I found Melbourne to be a little more European and laid back whereas Sydney was more bustling and in your face. After dinner I was given a lesson in seminal Australian films and we settled down to watch The Castle, having admitted to having never heard of before. It was very funny, very Australian and a nice way to end the day.

“I've never gone surfing, or ran with a crowd” 
Lyrics from The Life I Never Led from the musical Sister Act

Merry and bright

May your days be merry and bright and may all your Christmases be white

May your days be merry and bright 

I was awake early on Christmas Day, more because the sun was shining in through the bedroom window rather than excitement that Santa might have visited. I was far too old to get excited about a man who only comes once a year. I crept into the lounge, placing my secret Santa gifts & a present for Dave & Brian under the tree. Three bright red stockings with white furry trim were already under the tree, bulging with gifts. Dave and Brian were soon up, Brian announcing “I think Santa has been, there is fluff from his stockings all over the carpet”. Clearly Santa enjoys a spot of cross-dressing when he visits Sydney. Over coffee we each opened the gifts in our stockings. It was nice that “Santa” had included me. He clearly knew me well as my stocking contained a small bottle of gin, some tonic water and a lime, some chocolate coins and a Toblerone.

After a quick dip in the pool and a champagne breakfast we headed off to Garrett’s, a friend of Dave and Brian’s, where we and several other people would be spending Christmas Day. We loaded up the car with presents, alcohol and food. I was in the back seat holding on to the turkey, Brian had the unenviable task of sitting up front holding the gravy Dave had made the day before. En route we collected a friend of theirs, Iain, and were soon at Garrett’s, turkey and gravy both surviving Dave’s driving. The rest of the gang for the day comprised of Ryan, his friend Christa and Kuan. I had met Kuan the previous night at The Beresford although we hadn’t really chatted much. He had been in a bit of a panic that there wouldn’t be enough food so had gone off to try and find a store still open late on Christmas Eve to do some last minute shopping. From the spread of food already out on the table for lunch it was clear we were not going to go hungry. We wouldn’t have gone hungry had a coach load of unexpected guests called in to help eat all the food either.

We had lunch out on the roof terrace, every inch of the table taken up with plates of food. We made a good dent in the food and soon everyone was sitting back, pleasantly full and saying how they didn’t need anything else to eat. Eating until I couldn’t move made it feel like Christmas, even if I was sat outside in the sun wearing factor 30 sun cream. As we sat in a post food silence Kuan said he would go get dessert, this being the part of the feast that he had made. Everyone, apart from me, had been responsible for various parts of the Christmas Day meals. I was hitching a ride on Dave and Brian’s turkey and gravy contribution. Kuan returned shortly with an impressive looking cake (white chocolate cake with peaches & mangoes in champagne jelly) before heading back in, I assumed to get some plates. A black forest cake and a large trifle were also brought out. We somehow managed to get through half of the white chocolate cake, the other two desserts returned to the kitchen untouched.

After lunch we all donned Santa hats and took a much-needed walk down to Bronte Beach. The place was busy, people lining the beach and the grassy area behind it, a number of barbecues were on the go. This was the mental image I had of an Australian Christmas. What we thought was going to be a leisurely stroll down to the beach and back turned into a bit of a route march and we returned to Garrett’s about two hours later, having walked all the way along the coastal path to Coogee beach. My first glass of wine on the return went down rather quickly. The kitchen was only big enough for a couple of people so I volunteered to stay out of the way with Ryan and Kuan. We sat on the terrace and played several rounds of Spot It! which brought back memories of Nashville. Our traditional turkey dinner was served around 9pm. Nobody managed dessert.

And may all your Christmases be white

The evening was rounded off with the secret Santa gifts. I got a copy of Bill Bryson’s Down Under which I was very pleased with. I had nearly bought at the airport in New Zealand with my last remaining currency but had opted for a bacon sandwich instead. I had a catch up with my sister and Mother on Skype to wish them a Happy Christmas, my sister telling me that I didn’t appear to be anywhere near as drunk as she thought I would be. I took it as a compliment. We left the car at Garrett’s, sensibly calling for a taxi given we had all had a few drinks. The taxi driver got a little lost but we were soon home and I crashed straight into bed after a very long but enjoyable southern hemisphere Christmas.

Boxing Day got off to a sedate start. Over coffee and some toast we watched the start of the Sydney to Hobart boat race. From Dave & Brian’s balcony we could see the boats in the distance. We returned to Garrett’s at lunchtime in order to collect the dishes that had been left behind the previous day.  There was also the matter of two desserts, untouched the previous day that would need to be tackled. Over coffee we made inroads into the black forest cake and the trifle. We gave it our best shot, Brian even having thirds, but we finally admitted defeat. It was a while before anyone got up from the table, all of us enjoying a cake coma for a while. We finally loaded up the car and headed back to Dave and Brian’s for a quiet afternoon.

That evening we were joined by Em, a mutual friend from back in London. Em was over in Sydney visiting some friends and would also host me for a couple of days over New Year, my first lesbian host of my travels. We had got to know each other when we had been on the LGBT Employee Network leadership team together. I had been Head of Gays for a while, Em taking on the co-chair role when I finally gave in my dictatorship-like rule of the network. She and I have a love-hate relationship, I love winding her up, she hates having to put up with my childish behaviour. We are like squabbling siblings. After a drink on the balcony we went in search of a restaurant. A lot of places were closed but we found a nice little Italian place, opting to sit outside. Brian went off to get some wine for us to have with dinner. Not long after Brian got back with the wine we decided to move indoors as it had started to get quite windy. Over dinner we caught up on what was happening back in London with the gays. They seemed to be coping without my presence. Em and I managed to get through the whole dinner without winding each other up which was a little odd. It was probably because we hadn’t seen each other for a while. She redeemed herself at the end though, saying “See you Fattie” to me as she left the restaurant.

The following morning was another gay host handover day and I was packed and ready to go at the specified time. Dave and Brian were up too, neither of them ready, rushing around half naked as they packed. I texted Dan to let him know that I was ready to leave but that we might be at his later than planned. They were only heading off down the coast for a few days but from the pile of luggage building up in the hall you would think they were going away for months. I had seen them pack a Scrabble set and a pineapple. I didn’t want to pry into how they would be spending their evenings. We finally headed out an hour later than planned, one of my few travel delays of the trip.

  
“May your days be merry and bright and may all your Christmases be white” 
Lyrics from White Christmas from the musical White Christmas