AUSTRALIA II: WORKING FOR DA MAN

I thought that my plan to travel to Australia for Christmas, after having only just visited in March/April, was a bit extravagant. I mean, it's not the cheapest, quickest or most pleasant flight on the planet. In fact, it usually takes me at least a year until the memory of that flight fades enough for me to even contemplate booking another. So when I was told by my employer that I had to attend a meeting in Canberra in September, five months after my most recent flight and just two months before my next, I was less than thrilled. Six trans-global economy class flights in under nine months? Surely that counts as a breach of my human rights?

Grainy kangaroo footage

Once I got over my disappointment that the meeting wasn't taking place somewhere closer and more exotic, like Jamaica or Zambia, I eventually managed to muster a small semblance of enthusiasm for the unexpected return to my homeland. Even so, it was tempered by a strong aversion to cramming myself into an economy class seat for 24 sleepless hours, and a fear that I'd be physically unable to arrange the meetings and run the workshop when I landed at the other end.

Regular readers know that jetlag is not my friend. Despite this, I was surprisingly functional and relatively coherent during those first few days. It must have been the fear of performing badly that pushed me through the mind fug of jetlag-induced sleep deprivation. I also found myself unexpectedly enthusiastic about showing my British, African and Caribbean colleagues the joys of Canberra. I suspect that if I'd been there with a bunch of Aussies, I'd have been unable to think of any joys to show them.

They were lucky I found one!

Once my meetings and workshop were over and the international delegates had departed, I was free to catch up with friends. Whilst I had valiantly held jetlag at bay while I was working, it attacked me with a vengeance as soon as I stopped. Jetlag is evil. My brain imploded, I was completely shattered, and I'm afraid my friends didn't get to see the best of me - but I enjoyed myself nonetheless. Hopefully that's some small consolation to those of you who had to suffer me nodding off during the midde of conversations and my inability to string together a complete sentence. Hopefully?

There was NO WAY that I could handle submitting to the return economy class flight just four days after landing, so I had arranged to spend a week with my sister in Sydney. Hooray!

J was at work every day, so most of our activities were evening (and therefore alcohol)-based. She had moved into her own place since my last visit, and proudly took me to some of her favourite Sydney spots. I also dragged her out to introduce her to some of my friends, so we had quite a busy social schedule that week. My favourite day saw us spend the afternoon at an event celebrating Saudi Arabia National Day (the nibblies inexplicably consisted of pies, sandwiches and spring rolls), eat dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant in Newtown, and then head out to an Oktoberfest-themed Beer and Sausage Fundraiser hosted by Tibetan Buddhists. Carniverous and booze-swilling Tibetan Buddhists, evidently.

Breakfast in Sydney, lunch in Saudi Arabia, dinner in Vietnam, supper in Germany, and partying in Tibet. Sydney, eh? Whatta town.