#MeetingtheEnglish

Berry told me about an event happening in the city for British expats to meet each other. As I had no friends, I thought this would be a good idea! The journey began on the bus from Dee Why. Berry and I headed out on my first trip to Sydney since being back in Australia. On the bus, I spoke about the ice creams at the Wharf and we both decided that it was sunny and a Friday therefore ice cream is allowed. Unfortunately, when we got to Manly, we only had 5 minutes to catch the ferry so we raced through the barrier giving a longing glance at the icy goodness as we went by.

As we got nearer to the city, we decided to stand at the front of the boat to get a better view. A lady from Melbourne offered to take some snaps for us in front of the opera house and the bridge. As soon as we landed on solid ground we raced to the ice cream shop (well I raced). We arrived at the opera bar and found a table awaiting the

English folk. "How do you spot an English person?" Berry asked,
"They'll be the late ones!"
1/2 hour late a guy called Steve turned up. He's from New Zealand but has lived in London for 15 years!

After that everyone else arrived in drips and drabs, Claire the "organiser" was from Liverpool (I say organiser, I think Berry ended up being the one with any helpful information about where and when to meet), James is from Sheffield and then there was Phillip. There were others but I didn't chat to them very much.

The night was young but the sun had gone down over the busy city. Stars started to edge their way into view and shone down on us. Philip, a slightly older eccentric man in pink trousers strutted over to us. His bleach blonde hair glistened in the pub lights. Completely interrupting us he asked me two questions. 1: are you travelling alone? 2: so do you want to meet up in Sydney?

Before awaiting an answer he whipped out his pen and pad and hastily scribbled his number down tearing it out and handing it to me.
"Oh thanks!" I told James, who was standing next to me, that I would share the number with him and he looked slightly horrified before realising I was joking! Later on, Claire told us that she had been frightened because an older blonde man in pink trousers had been stroking her arm! I couldn't believe Philip could betray me so quickly!

After a few glasses of wine, James, Steve and I went off to find another bar. Because James is actually 100 we ended up in a library hotel type thing! But there was Prosecco so that made me happy!

We went to another bar and had an amazing view of the city before being kicked out because apparently Australia hasn't heard of the 24 hour drinking trend. The bad news was that we had missed the ferry! But we could still get a bus, with 15% Battery we decided it's probably best if I catch a bus to Freshwater with James & crash at his- hoping that his slightly older and slightly grumpy housemate wouldn't find out that there was an intruder in the house.

Luckily, he wasn't a murderer and he too was relieved that I didn't kill him in the night either!

Feeling hung over in the morning, we decided to go for breakfast. Steve couldn't make it because he had to head back to base. Before Manly, we went to see the view from one of the cliffs by James's house...maybe this is the murder plan? But no, it was all fine, we watched the sea goers and argued about his bad taste in music and film and TV- who doesn't like Harry Potter?! We saw a couple of dolphins swimming by too which made up for the previous Harry Potter slating!

I told him about accidentally killing my brother Sean's budgie when I was four and read him my poem about it that I wrote for Sean's 30th birthday. Unfortunately this resulted in him nicknaming me BK (budgie killer). I saw the look of fear in his eyes when a small sea bird landed near us and my hands clenched together in response...Jokes! I don't like them but I probably won't strangle one again.
He also suggested that when I go travelling around Australia, that I don't share the budgie killing story with anyone else!

We decided to go for breakfast in Manly, which was a very sad looking ham and cheese croissant.

Luckily the beach didn't disappoint as we sat in the sand and watched the volleyball players who are the type of people that do not play for fun! Whilst chatting, the ball was thrown near our feet so we very kindly threw it back not knowing that it is a serious offence to throw the ball slightly out of reach of one of the players. Instead of a thank you and a thumbs up because "hey! I helped you get your ball back" I was reprimanded with a glare and a slight shake of the head in anger.
All in all a successful meeting of the English (the volleyball player was Australian, I don't think we would have made good friends.)