Day 2 (or is it 3?) Sydney/Brisbane
Oct. 20th, 2008 10:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rickpsYeah, yeah, this monologue is time shifted and not quite day of/day after reporting.
LAX to SYD. You board on Tuesday night and arrive on Thursday morning. So is this day 2 or day 3?
I've no idea if it's universal but, to a person, passengers were thanked and thanked again for flying United. A sign of the times? Probably. From all practical respects, it was a fine flight. On time, service was professional, even the food was above Alpo standards. I managed to stay awake long enough to watch Hancock (awful) and most of Speed Racer (more awful). The memory I'll take with me was my elderly female Aussie seatmate who drank steadily from before takeoff to just before landing. Do not take this gal on in a drinking contest!
Apparently my gaydar works better in Australia. Bright orange shirt, muscular, heavily inked arm "sleeves", he was hard to miss. Walking up to the baggage carousel, there was Mr. Orange Sleeves, also awaiting his luggage. An opening in the waiting crowd placed me next to Mr. OS giving me a chance to compliment him on his tattoo work. And in the next five minutes I learned that he'd been visiting his "somebody special" in San Diego, hoped to relocate to the US from Sydney, and was hoping that Prop. 8 would be defeated. We parted with a shared smile and nod of familiarity.
Thanks to a suggestion by the all knowing![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
beardoc, I bought my way into the Virgin Blue Lounge and grabbed a shower in the immaculate rooms they provide. Feeling virginal and pure, I tried to fight the inevitable jet lag by eating a light breakfast as I waited for my flight to Brisbane. All went as planned, the connecting flight departed on time. No worries mate!
Arriving in Brisbane, I was met by automotively-enabledbeardoc and whisked to the Astor Apartments in the Spring Hill section, the "Castro" of the city. No pride flags, no obvious 'we're here!' announcements. Particularly interesting given the national legal recognition of gay marriage. Perhaps there's less need to shout. As cities go, Brisbane didn't stand out. Not ugly, not pretty, not historic, but perfectly adequate. Not sure why it's nicknamed Brisvegas...
A staple of down under bear events seems to be the Underbear Party. Such was the kickoff of Brisbear's Northern Exposure. Held in the lower level Mineshaft bar of the Sportsman Hotel, shyness disappeared quickly. Shortly after arriving I met four of the five Bears in the City podcast boys (only the hunkycuboz was absent as work kept him in Sydney), the posse that I hoped to hang with over the weekend. Clinton and "Daddy" Craige have yet to fall into the LJ continuum while John jottobear and Seumas beardoc round out the group. We talked, we flirted, we drank (minimally for me), rinse repeat. By midnight, my jet lagged body demanded real sleep in a real bed so it was back to the Astor.
And so ended my first full day in Australia.
LAX to SYD. You board on Tuesday night and arrive on Thursday morning. So is this day 2 or day 3?
I've no idea if it's universal but, to a person, passengers were thanked and thanked again for flying United. A sign of the times? Probably. From all practical respects, it was a fine flight. On time, service was professional, even the food was above Alpo standards. I managed to stay awake long enough to watch Hancock (awful) and most of Speed Racer (more awful). The memory I'll take with me was my elderly female Aussie seatmate who drank steadily from before takeoff to just before landing. Do not take this gal on in a drinking contest!
Apparently my gaydar works better in Australia. Bright orange shirt, muscular, heavily inked arm "sleeves", he was hard to miss. Walking up to the baggage carousel, there was Mr. Orange Sleeves, also awaiting his luggage. An opening in the waiting crowd placed me next to Mr. OS giving me a chance to compliment him on his tattoo work. And in the next five minutes I learned that he'd been visiting his "somebody special" in San Diego, hoped to relocate to the US from Sydney, and was hoping that Prop. 8 would be defeated. We parted with a shared smile and nod of familiarity.
Thanks to a suggestion by the all knowing
beardoc, I bought my way into the Virgin Blue Lounge and grabbed a shower in the immaculate rooms they provide. Feeling virginal and pure, I tried to fight the inevitable jet lag by eating a light breakfast as I waited for my flight to Brisbane. All went as planned, the connecting flight departed on time. No worries mate!Arriving in Brisbane, I was met by automotively-enabled
beardoc and whisked to the Astor Apartments in the Spring Hill section, the "Castro" of the city. No pride flags, no obvious 'we're here!' announcements. Particularly interesting given the national legal recognition of gay marriage. Perhaps there's less need to shout. As cities go, Brisbane didn't stand out. Not ugly, not pretty, not historic, but perfectly adequate. Not sure why it's nicknamed Brisvegas...A staple of down under bear events seems to be the Underbear Party. Such was the kickoff of Brisbear's Northern Exposure. Held in the lower level Mineshaft bar of the Sportsman Hotel, shyness disappeared quickly. Shortly after arriving I met four of the five Bears in the City podcast boys (only the hunky
cuboz was absent as work kept him in Sydney), the posse that I hoped to hang with over the weekend. Clinton and "Daddy" Craige have yet to fall into the LJ continuum while John jottobear and Seumas beardoc round out the group. We talked, we flirted, we drank (minimally for me), rinse repeat. By midnight, my jet lagged body demanded real sleep in a real bed so it was back to the Astor.And so ended my first full day in Australia.
