G’day Australia!

I think to myself, come on, don’t start a new country with lies. So I declare at customs: I have 425 cigarettes with me. With my mixture of convincing “playing the fool”, confusion and honest eyes, I get the customs officer to let me into Australia without penalty duty. Saves me a whopping €80.

The Monday after the Australian bank holidays is a postponed Sunday. Buses rarely run, many are cancelled. After a few trials and tribulations, I only arrive at the Palm Backpackers Hostel in Kings Cross at eight o’clock in the evening after three hours. There are 35 hostels and about as many brothels and massage parlours within a 500-metre radius.

After the spotless New Zealand, Australia is almost a shock. There are smokers here! Some even throw their stubs on the street. In New Zealand, it’s a four-way split. Couples argue next to the hostel, bums drink on the street. There’s no such thing as too much dirt anyway. I fall into bed dead tired at nine.

I step on the gas on the first day. Search 15 hostels in the neighbourhood for a suitable car. I go to 4 car dealers and 8 hire companies. Result: the only option for me is to buy a car. Renting for two months costs more than buying. Even with a total loss, I would still save money.

Another problem: some travel guides say you need an international driving licence. The police send me to the licensing authority. They say: nope, not necessary. Good. I can tour for the rest of the day.

Off through Hyde Park. Through the whole city centre. Central Station. I like the mix of old and new, right next to each other. Sydney is a real cosmopolitan city, the mix of so many different cultures reminds me a lot of New York…maybe also the skyscrapers surrounded by water.

I drive up the Sky Tower. It was hot and humid outside, but you can see the vapour from above. Then it’s off through the western part of the city centre, Chinatown and the Convention Center. My knee “works” again. At Walsh Wharf, old piers have been converted into a luxury residential area. Millionaires have parked their yachts in front of the balconies.

After about 15 kilometres on foot, I’m pretty exhausted and take the bus back to Kings Cross. The hostel has a small cockroach problem. They’ve been fumigating all day today. We have to wait outside for two hours. Then it’s supposedly safe to go back inside. So as not to know where the headache will come from tomorrow, someone donates a murderous free punch. Hello Australia!