So I’m living in Sydney for a while. Been here a couple weeks and am starting to get a feel for the city, its contours and crannies. The city is only now getting back to normal I’m told. My arrival coincided with World Youth Day 2008, a gathering of young Catholics and their guitar-playing, slightly goateed youth group directors. Apparently there were over 200,000 attendees. My first glimpse of the Harbour Bridge was spoiled by the fact that it was covered with an endless line of them, marching in procession. They styled themselves Pilgrims and they swarmed the city for a few weeks.

A woman and several teens were looking around like they were lost and asked me if the bus I was waiting for went to Oxford Street. This was my second day there, and I didn’t have a clue where the place was, so I shrugged and apologized.

“I’m a stranger here myself. Sorry.” Hearing my American accent, she naturally assumed I was part of her group.

“Oh, are you a pilgrim, too?” she asked.

“Yes. Yes I am. Would you like me to tell you a story about a singing rooster while we wait for the bus?” I replied.

Judging by her horrified expression and the manner in which she gathered her charges up and moved on the next bus stop, I take it she wasn’t a Chaucer fan. Sadly, this is not the first time in my life a Canterbury Tales joke has fallen flat and I’m sure it won’t be the last.

The Pilgrims that were here for World Youth Day did an awful lot of singing, and marching while they were here. Things are a little quieter now that they’ve gone and it’s given me more of a chance to explore the city. So far, so good. The people are uniformly warm and friendly and the city is picturesque. I’m living in Bondi Beach, which looks about like this:

photo by betta design

It’s a happening place, with lots of young people and backpackers and whatnot. Outside the downtown CBD area, it has a relaxed sort of pace. There are many surfers, despite the testicle-shriveling combination of weather and water temperatures we’ve had lately. I would sooner sit on the couch and watch Endless Summer (I and II) than actually get in the water and try to surf myself. I’ve never been much a surfer, which is slightly odd because I have usually lived near a beach and I really like surfing movies. Point Break, In God’s Hands, North Shore, hell even Blue Crush. Yet I have only tried it once, and I somehow managed to get a jellyfish between the board and my stomach and it did what jellyfish do. I don’t even like to swim. Or lay out and get a tan.

And yet, I look being near beaches. Walking on them sometimes. Maybe. I am a complex man.

Sydney is expensive. The exchange rate isn’t doing me any favors and the price of everything seems to be slightly jacked up compared to what I’m used to paying in the U.S. (even in California). I’ve still managed to head out a few times. The level of joviality seems high, generally. People tend to sing and chant. Then again, the recent victory of the Wallabies over the hated Allblacks may have artifically inlfated the good cheer quotient. Rugby wins have that effect.

Single beers come in some amount less than a pint, which is disappointing. I was able to counsel one of my roommates against ordering a giant can of Foster’s, which they don’t even seem to have here. I went for a Cowaramup IPA which stood up admirably against my current favorite Sierra Nevada, and nicely demonstrated the Aussie knack for improbable combinations of letters acting as proper names.

Classes just started at UNSW, where I am studying for the semester. Like any nerd, I’ve been looking forward to the start of a new session. Having gone out of my way to avoid Australia-centric classes that won’t help out my overall law school goals (whatever they might end up being, I’m pretty sure Australian criminal litigator isn’t on the list of possible careers), I find myself faced with mostly International Affairs type classes. I am currently re-acquainting myself with the WTO and the other Bretton Woods organizations. It is just as much fun as it sounds.