It’s Inauguration Day in the United States…let’s hope it never comes to this!

You’re all excited for your big night out in Sydney. You put on your favorite t-shirt, check your hair in the mirror, and cab it down to King’s Cross for an epic Saturday night. You beat the queue, march up to the bar and order your drink, only to be handed…a plastic cup? What kind of place is this?

You see, it has just passed midnight, and the Australian government has made it compulsory for pubs to serve alcohol in plastic cups after that hour. Why? With something in the neighborhood of 1,000 “glassings” (an attack using glass as a weapon) each year, drunken, John Wayne Western-style violence has become a black cloud over the country’s social scene. 

Australia is attempting to make it harder for John Wayne impersonators after midnight

As the majority of these attacks have occurred between midnight and 3am, the government is hoping to play its part in eliminating these attacks. Much like the gun-law debate in America, however, there is much contention over whether taking away one weapon will eliminate the violence, or if another approach should be considered.

For now, though, you fine wine connoisseurs may want to enjoy that expensive bottle before midnight, because it all may taste the same in red plastic cup!

The rules of Brighton le Sands

Just a little something to get you in a beachy mood. Just be aware, there’s no lifesaving service here today!

While this wasn’t my Initial Descent into Australia, or even into Sydney (this was my second visit), I had one of my more interesting airport arrival experiences here, worth sharing. Sadly, it may even provide a glimpse into Sydney’s culture, although let’s hope that isn’t the case!

Finally reaching Australian soil!

For the last hour or two of my 13-hour flight from San Francisco, I had been talking to my seat buddy, a young lady from Montreal who spent a lot of time in Sydney working in modeling. She had the typical model look–tall, incredibly skinny and pale-skinned–definitely not my type. But she was nice, and most interestingly for me, she was from Montreal. I had always wanted to visit there, and was happy to get some “local” perspective.

This trip, she was to be reunited with her boyfriend, who lived in Sydney and awaited her at the airport. After standing in the customs queue together for another 30 minutes (after our 13 hours together on board), we were about to wish each other farewell and part ways, as she saw her boyfriend awaiting her in the arrivals hall. They hugged, I gave her a casual “good luck” and told her to keep in touch, perhaps by connecting on Facebook. I can’t emphasize enough that after 13 and a half hours of acquaintance, I was just hoping to have someone local I could get some information about Montreal from when I finally did get my act together and visit.

This, apparently, did not sit very well with her boyfriend. She introduced us and we shook hands, and I watched them walk off happily into the Sydney morning. I then proceeded to handle my international arrivals business (sorting out the money situation, phone, etc.), and was shocked to turn around 15 minutes later to a tap on my shoulder. It was the girl’s boyfriend, who had apparently left the girl he had been waiting months to see in the car, and felt the need to walk back into the terminal and seek me out with an important message.

(insert thick Aussie accent here)

Guy: Listen mate, I just wanted to let you know that she’s NOT going to keep in touch with you, and you are NOT going to see her again, alright???

Me: (so astonished that I can’t even stand straight) You actually left her in the car and walked back in here just to tell me that? Whatever man, I’m not even interested!

I then stepped aside and walked away, the situation apparently diffused, given that I didn’t receive any more taps on my shoulder.

Arrivals Hall at Kingsford Smith

But I didn’t know what I was more shocked by–the fact that the guy felt the need to come back and say this to me, when we were clearly introduced–or the fact that he actually had the nerve to tell his lady after they got back to the car that he had to go back into the terminal to talk to me. I mean, what’s she thinking at this point?? I just hope that he didn’t get any that night, and if he did, well, bless that poor girl (with a working brain cell, please).

So, this was my first perception of Sydney–meathead, gym-mongering guys just looking to show off their macho wares to impress a girl. I would later find that while this may be spot on for certain areas like Bondi, fortunately, not every Sydneysider is this way!

I’ve always thought Australians sucked….and guess what I saw as verification on the bus to Melbourne Airport the other day? Why, you guessed it!  The Biggest Lollie Shop in the World!  (Yes, they call them “lollies” and no, I don’t actually think Australians suck—it was a joke, folks!).

This is surely one of the more unique shops I’ve ever tripped across, though…and a wonderful reason to visit the great, quirky, fun city of  Melbourne! (Actually, it’s located in the suburb of Tullamarine, but who’s counting?)

The shop itself, as you may be able to imagine, is basically a mecca of all types of candy, featuring a huge variety of lollies, chocolates, and other sugary sensations. A full kilo of lollies will set you back about $5 AUD, at least if you’re willing to settle for the house brand. Don’t forget to check out the chocolate covered fruits and candies, as well as the ample selection of party favors!

If Santa Claus isn’t paying you a visit, maybe now you have a good alternative!

My ID:  8:21am, Saturday, 03 October 2009:  Brisbane International Airport

Etihad Airways flight EY470 from Singapore

With sunshine reflecting off of royal blue Moreton Bay below, my Initial Descent into Australia was as beautiful and lush as I had expected it to be. Everything I had heard about this country was about its natural, physical beauty, and based on this first foray, I was not disappointed.

Customs, on the other hand, was a different story. Besides being just a few customs agents sitting in a room full of desks, leaving for an impossible queue, the authorities seemed intent on checking half of the bags coming through the hall. I had always thought Australians to be laid back and easygoing, which is perhaps why I didn’t expect the customs process to be more of a hassle than some of the US airports I’m used to, including New York City’s JFK or Los Angeles International. But that’s what I was dealing with, and I would find out within the next few days that my expectation of laid back and easygoing wasn’t really accurate even beyond the confines of a stuffy immigration hall.

Nevertheless, with a bright sun pasted atop a clear blue sky, I was happy to be in the Land Down Under for the first time!