This was not on my "epic world adventure" agenda; if you would be so kind, please vividly picture the scene - I'm currently penning this blog entry whilst travelling on the Sydney to Melbourne train service and it's currently around 9.59 in the evening. I've decided to go with the revoultionary scraps of paper to keyboard concept when it comes to writing the blogs in an attempt to save some precious (and fast disappearing) funds on the ever expensive internet minutes, furthermore, it enables me to spend some time doing something remotely productive on what ia turning out ot be a truly horrific ten-and-a-half hour journey. Let me elaborate - seemingly, i have paid seventy-five austrailian dollors for a "seat" with a resounding resemblance to a concrete block, that offers the same amount of leg-room as Peter Crouch on Easyjet whilst adding a creaking noise that is as deafeaning as it is irritating in my (still) hungover head making anychance of blissful slumber on this journey minimal at best. To make matters worse, I've self-inflicted some of my own discomfort by forgetting to take out my contact lenses for the past 92 hours (Mum and Sammy - I can hear your tuts this side of Sydney) making the artificial light in this carraige intensely blinding, and, to be frank, I smell rather horrid (both laudry and tolietry monies have also been sacraficed along with internet). So just when your thought this trip was all a bit Bill Bryson, here's me, couped up like a Taiwanease castaway on the Orient Express (have no idea where that came from). Now then, if I can just get that piercing noise out of my head for a moment, and get my brain in a remotely co-opertaive mood, i'll see what I can muster out of the memory bank.........

First things first. A much deserved expression of our gratitude towards our Austrailian Surfers based travel agents, Sirs Tompkins, Bavin and Sedgely. For is was upon their first hand recommendation that we took up our Sydney residence in a "WakeUp" hostel, placed conveniently in the middle of the city. Essentially, it was awesome - it had a young and trendy enviorment not seen so commonly in the YHA's we had been staying in previously where there was a tendacy for them to have a large population of, for want of a better word, fuddy-duddies. Despite being slightly more expensive than any other hostel, the facilties were exceptional, the staff and other residence friendly, and there was a brilliant bar underneath ensuring a strightforward stumble home every morning. I was convinced I would like the place almost instantly upon arrival - what greeted us was hundreds of people in an astounded silence, hunched round an impressively sized plasma TV screen. What spectacle could cause such dumfounded commotion and emotion I thought to myself?? It came as little suprise, that when I finally did get a peak at the screen in question what I was greeted with was the daily goings on on Ramsey Street. My kinda people, im sure your agree.............

We had arrived quite late that evening so once we settled, there was little time for anything else other than a few beers and a bed. Next morning though are ethusiam for exploration was far greater and we thought we'd kill two birds with one stone by venturing round the city, acclimatizing ourselves, whilst also hunting down the infamous Mark Hurren and Alex Elsberry, two other disturbed ex-chi high puplis who'd found themselves sluming it this side of the hemisphere. Our trek served its former purpose exceptionally, as Josh and I soon knew our George Street from our Liverpool Road, however it became an increasing struggle hunting down the dynamic duo themsleves. In hindsight, mainly due to the perverse sexual tendacies of Mr. Elsbury, we should have guessed long before we strolled up to the outside of their hostel an hour and a half later that the two of them would of set up home bang in the middle of Sydney's astonishingly indiscreet red-light discreet (Hurren later divulged information of "ear tongue-ing" with the street (corner) locals). Anyways, we agreed to meet up later that night at the bar underneath our hostel and we got rather predictably trolleyed, whilst reminisscing more than a flashback episode of Dawsons Creek. Elsbury, you'll be glad to hear, is still his obsessivly depressing self whilst Hurren's new-found ability with women, with one chat up line in particular, had us all in awe (see quote of the week).

In between the Heineken and cocktails of the previous night, the four of us had somehow managed to arrange to meet up the following morning for the award-winning "Elsbury-Hurrun Sydney Tour Trip". Me and Josh couldnt complain - it was just the two of us on the tour and, considering it was free of charge, the guides were very informative - if not a bit hungover. They took us to all the Sydney sights starting with the overwhelmingly impressive Harbour Bridge and the equally stunning Opera House, that, much to Josh's bewilderment, dosent actually have the capabilities to show full scale opera. Following this, there was a stroll round the beautiful Botanic Gardens - however I am personally of the belief that Gardens should be renamed Joggers Paradise or the slightly less imperious Sydney Home Of Homosexual Behaviour Gardens. The reason being I have never scene so many roars of "go guys!!!" accompanied by encouraging slaps of the arses man to man anywhere in the world (that includes a gay bar in Portsmouth that, yes, I have been to). There were also such a vast amount of sweating jogging bodies at two o'clock that afternoon it made be beg the question - "does anybody in this city have a job to go to???"

The following day we showed a disloyalty to our Elsbery-Hurrun tourguides (who by this time had left us to make their way to Byron Bay) by enduring another, slightly more well informed, tour on our way to the Zoo. The Zoo was pretty cool, and I felt free from a guilty concious as we were finally making an effort to do some touristy bits and bobs in the city. One slight disapointment was the performance of the Kangeroos and Koalas that day who showed all the movement of Stuart Downing - they were outshown by the chimpanzees (im sorry, but there is a resemblance to Coyle, there actually is), tigers and the snakes of which one was apparently the deadliest on earth with the capabilities to kill 250 000 mice with one drop of venom (Go'on Dad!! - shudder, shudder, shudder).

Arguably what we loved about Sydney more than anything else was Bondi Beach. No words can capture that initial veiw of the golden sand (golden women) and smashing waves that make that beach what it is. Wittering, Bognor, Hayling - wherever - will excite me now about as much as a pond after experiencing first hand the pure adrenaline fuelled awesomeness of that beach. We ended up going whenever weather permitted, and even when it wasnt (it was raining in the sea once) the experience was just as excilerating.

The nightlife in Sydney that was, once again, very agreeable with our Austrailain based travel agents was also, unsurprisingly, very agreeable with our lovely selves. "Base' bar underneath our hostel, was a guranted good night, every night, and when we did venture out, there there was also clubs and bars that delivered with equal aplomb. A personal thankyou to the twenty four hour Irish bar that was the only place showing the England game live at half past four in the morning. Josh and I did both attempt to stay up but unfortunatly the blonde don crept away in shame at around three, whereas I - rather regrettably now - lasted the whole distance. Moreover, a personal apology to the Irish girl (was it Jane or Gemma??) who rather unsuccessfully decided to flirt with me shamelessly during a small section of the game. I admit, I shouldnt have accepted the free drink but surely my ignoring you for ten minutes is hint enough to p*** off!! Either way I shouldnt have said "F**k Off!!!Can't you see im watching the f**king football you silly Irish cow"!!! - that was unneccessary. If your interested I will be watching the Andorra game in some dirty English pub in Melbourne at around 5am this morning so your more than welcome to buy me a drink then - only at half time though, please bear that in mind.

So, keeping in rythm with the rest of our trip so far, Sydney was brilliant - however it did highlight the downside of travelling so relentlessly in dramatic fashion. Josh and I truly adored the hostel and made some great friends there and typically, as soon as we felt truly comfortable in our surroundings, we have to upsticks again and move to somewhere new. Of course there is an unbeatable level of excitement when you have a new city to explore, but when you've fallen in love with your previous residence so much it sticks in the throat a bit........

The bloody train guard just switched off the lights in the carraige much to the relief off my eyes - like he thinks its possible to get any sleep on this heap of s***e anyway??!! Either way, your have too excuse the lack off quality to this particular entry, I've had to fall back on mindless swearing to make you chuckle and thats never a good thing - just please bear in mind my discomfort as I wrote, and is with this distinct lie I'll sign off..........Always a Pleasure..................

Quote Of The Week - "Shotgun!!!!" Guest Contributor Mark Hurren claims first dibs on a young New Zealand girl who is quite insanely drunk. Shockingly the New Zealander understood this international phenomenon and replied "Did you just shotgun me, you cant shotgun me". Que Hurren looking more embarassed than the only kid wearing uniform on the non school uniform day.

Beer Test - 10/10 I found Stella, but I like to think it was the Stella that found me.....