On Attending Lectures and Other Foreign Concepts

So I’m doing this new thing where I actually try to turn up to all my classes- unheard of, I know. I rocked up to my 11am tutorial this morning, managing to be late of course, and promptly half fell off my chair. Good start. Maybe it’s a sign? It turned out that it was a session on how to use various sources, and I immediately regretted going, spending most of the time trying to de-fluster my self from my three-minute bike ride. Ah well, at least I feel like I’m getting my money’s worth now. It’s actually rather refreshing- and by refreshing I mean different- attending class. I’m trying to embrace this whole year abroad pass/fail thing but I keep forgetting that this involves actually passing, something which is not going to happen if I consider the beach to be an equivalent to a lecture theatre.

Despite this new leaf that I’ve supposedly turned, I’ve just booked flights to Bali. Rather unfortunately, this requires missing a week of lectures. But what will I remember more: a week tanning in Bali or a week of mundane lectures? I’m supposed to be taking the “say yes to everything (well, not everything), so that’s my excuse if anyone asks.

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Our humble balcony

The last week has brought with it my usual plethora of misfortunes and amusing turn of events. I’ve desperately been trying to decorate the balcony that I share with my friend, and so with high hopes I invested in two sets of fairy lights. The first gave
off the most pathetic dim glow, but we still kept them there in the hope that they’d reward us at some point. I had faith in the other set, however, when they brightly lit up after a day of solar charging. But, the next day, nothing. Disappointment ensued. Thirty dollars less well off and with nothing to show for it. It wasn’t until last night that I realised I was pressing the wrong button. The old cliché “press the on button” really does still ring true.

I’ve also been broadening my horizons and attended an intercollege debate, advertised as the “banter-plus™ edition”. Oh dear. They even gave out one prize which was a Canterbury Cap with ‘Archbishop of Banterbury” written on it…Having said this, it was an evening full of jests and digs, and most importantly: pancakes and milkshakes. I ate my bodyweight in both of those, and left sincerely regretting it. The debates were lighthearted and ranged from “should Tommy Moore (one of the colleges) be turned into a car park?” to “is it pointless to pursue the impossible?” As you can imagine, I loved the latter- they even managed to incorporate some metaphysics into the debate. My idea of heaven.

I’ve also been to two gigs in two nights. The latter was considerably better- at a jazz bar in Northbridge- but the first was considerably more amusing. We arrived at some god-early hour to a completely empty bar, save for some drummer banging away on the stage. We explored the place- it was pretty damn cool, and then sat down and listened to the first of the “bands”, which consisted of a lone guitarist strumming away at the basic four chords. I wasn’t impressed, but the décor made up for it. We then decided to leave before we were tempted to buy the extortionately priced drinks, and promptly bumped into the entire bus of Trinity people just arriving at the gig. How embarrassing- leaving at 8:30! What cop outs. On the bus back my friend was scrolling through Facebook and came across the event we’d just been to and asked “what the hell is this?” You can see how riveted we’d been.

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The funky bar in Freo

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Idyllic

Perhaps the best of my week was a tour of the city by kayak. We rose early (8 am is early for me) and hurriedly crammed some pieces of toast down our tired throats to sustain us. The day was beautiful and we were all in high spirits, and we arrived on time (surprising for me). We were safety briefed by a woman who notified us that her black eye was not inflicted upon her by her abusive husband…slightly suspect? (or suss as the aussies would say), who then proceeded to patronisingly teach us how to kayak (who doesn’t know how to kayak- it’s fairly simple). Finally, an hour later, we hit the water. Within precisely five minutes, the heavens opened and we were instantly soaked. Although I’m not sure about the others, I loved it, and continued testing the strength of my arms and powered on. We kayaked around the iconic Crawley Boathouse (which is hollow inside!) and then to Eliza (or whatever her name is), before the instructor announced that we bad to turn back because it was so choppy. so much for the “City tour”. Although I was disappointed, my arms were giving out and my legs were cramping- I really should do exercise more often. Instead of the city tour, we kayaked around Pelican Point and got caught in the type of rain you only see in romance movies or on “extreme weather” programmes. Surrounded by swans and kayaking for our lives, this truly was a “The Notebook” moment. Once again, I loved it, even though I was soaked to the skin and freezing. One more memorable experience in WA to add to my rapidly growing list.

And now it’s 2am and yet another late night blog post. I’d better sleep because I’ve gotta hit the beach tomorrow and prepare for Bali in the evening…It’s a hard life.

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