Day 70: On the beach with old mates

Saturday 13th February 

Going to Coogee Bay with mates from my university days

Distance: Bus, 4km

Total Distance: 10573km

I've been staying with Chris, an old flatmate I lived with at uni in Edinburgh. Here's been here for just over a year doing an internship. One of our other friends from uni, Cannon, is from Sydney but now lives in the UK. However this weekend he was visiting so we organised to spend a day catching up on the beach.

We met up by Coogee Beach- near to where a lot of the British in Sydney live. It was another hot day so Chris decided to go by us a beach umbrella. At the store the young spaniard informed him "no refunds, no returns". This did confuse us for a while, but it would entertain us all day. 

We went down to the beach for a few hours to catch up and chat about life after uni, as well as tell the same old time honoured jokes. It was great to have a catch up- we haven't seen much of any of our uni mates since graduation. Thus we also got into ideas for when we're all back to reunite the flat for a weekend. (A heads up if you're reading guys!)

All this time the wind picked up and died. Picked up, died. Picked up, died. Then picked up and took the umbrella with it! I ran down the beach proclaiming "sorry, sorry, sorry!!!" to everyone it hit as it tumbled across the sand. Eventually it settled on a man who'd just been struck in the face by it. I apologised then ran away before he could complain. Two to the struts inside were bent, but it still worked. We had problems with it for the rest of the day too, but tied it down with bags enough to not be so embarrassed again.

The rest of the afternoon we alternated between swimming and chatting, went to the local Mexican restaurant, and found some of Cannon's local friends who we ate dinner with. Later, as the sun began to set, Chris got a volleyball and we practiced on the slowly cooling beach. We're not very good. After a few apologies as the ball flew off towards people and needing time to get home we eventually said good bye. It'll be at least another 6 months before we might see each other again. But today was a lovely day.

Day 65: Vet School

Monday 8th February

Bus n train to vet school, car crash, huntsman

Distance: ~90km

Total Distance: 9989km

The Sydney University Veterinary School hospitals are out to the far west of Sydney. This is the Camden Campus, just outside of the little town of Camden. 

(NB, London, the UK's oldest vet school also has a Camden Campus! Different Camden, obviously)

Turns out this isn't too quick to get to via public transport- but it was relatively easy. Aren't smart phones great? Thanks Google maps.

Bus, Train, Bus, Bus. All paid for via my Opal card, the city's scan on/off transport payment system. Same as the Oyster card in London.

After 2 1/2 hours I was out at the Vet School, greeted by the signs telling me to "Beware of Snakes". Well that's novel. Makes a change from "Keep Off The Grass". Yes, I think I will be wary of the snakes. Thanks for the reminder.

My sister had out me in contact with Mike. He's an Irish vet working in the farm department, and I'd be staying with for a couple of days. After a quick check in at reception I was introduced to my host, followed by the rest of the department and a couple of final year students. I sat and had a chat with the students, successfully disrupting their paper work.

I'd gotten there late in the day so we were soon jumping in the big, solid, tough work ute. A ute is basically a pick up truck with an extra row of seats and, potentially, a canopy over the rear section. They're pretty indestructible. Though I did once see a drunk kiwi farmer right one off by driving into a ditch. Idiot.

As we left the campus we talked about snakes and spiders. 

"I used to have a Huntsman in here some where." I flinched and looked around. That wasn't the news I wanted. Huntsman spiders can grow big. Hand sized big. And they're slightly poisonous.

Down the road we joined the main highway bustling with rush hour traffic. The road was busy with the usual people trying to get home from work, as well as trucks large and small. We were steadily making our way back, chatting away, minding our own business, sitting in the queue before a roundabout, when suddenly...

Someone slammed a cricket bat against the back of my chair.

I hammered forward against the seat belt.

Brakes were slammed back on.

Someone had hit us!

We pulled over. Behind us an older British couple in a little Toyota had been forced into the back of our ute. Their bonnet had gone under our tow bar, leaving us with limited damage. However, they'd been sandwiched between us and the ute behind. They sat there, clearly shocked and stunned, in their crumpled car. An Aussie emerged from the ute behind, talking quickly and with little in the way of apology.

"These things happen, mate. You know, mate? These things just happen mate. Accidents happen."

I wasn't in the mood to start taking issue enough to point out that this wasn't an 'accident'. You fucked up mate. Your fault. Mate.

The British guy quietly sat by the road with me.  His car's only straight panel now was the roof, with no unsmashed lights. His clearly distressed wife still sat trying to compose herself in the passenger seat. He added a couple of colourful words to our quiet chat too. I agreed.

I was sat in the back of the ute waiting for details to be exchanged. Then suddenly the F-ing Huntsman appeared on the seat!!! It wasn't full grown, only about the size of my palm. I tried to get a photo but it ran off before I could even get a camera out. That is not reassuring. I jumped out of the car.

The tow truck arrived and the police came for a quick look in. No one was significantly hurt so they wouldn't be making a record of the event. We were fine- a few flecks of paint, not much. The Aussie ute had a large dent in its bull bars but nothing else. The wee Toyota was potentially a right off. Nearly all of the panels were bent and lights shattered but no idea about the innards.

We left them all there by the roadside. Coming off relatively unscathed it was simply a shock. Time for a beer.