Delayed reaction, or Russell Crowe is my neighbor

I wrote this while I was in Sydney, but never got around to posting it. I'm too lazy to write anything today, so I'll just toss you some leftovers:

When I was about 8, my parents announced their intention to spend their tax refund on a trip to Australia to see my mom’s longtime pen pal, Sandy, who lives in Melbourne. I was day-before-my-birthday-look-at-all-those-presents excited for it.

Then I came home one day to find our hideous striped sofa replaced by a hideous loveseat-recliner combo, and, to add insult to aesthetic injury, that the tax refund had been spent on the rust-and-orange horror.

I’ve been bitter about it ever since.

This week, I’m exorcising that childhood demon, as well as crossing off number 3 on my all-time Places To Visit list.

Upon arriving in Australia, my first action was that of any traveler setting foot in a land she’d waited two decades to see: laundry.

See, it turns out, there’s a few drawbacks to life in the lap of luxury – namely, you can’t do anything for yourself. Want to quickly spot-iron a shirt? You can’t! Housekeeping will be happy to take care of that for you, ma’am. (For $10.) Coin-op laundry is for the hoi polloi at Super 8. So the hoi polloi arrived in Sydney with no clean pants.

That chore out of the way, surely I headed into the outback or something, right? Uh, no, actually, I took a nap. Red-eye flights are great if you can sleep on planes. I can’t. Especially after eating a meal that was half a notch above MRE quality and that made me violently ill sometime in the netherworld of plane-night. A flight attendant gave me two red caplets in a blister pack with kanji and the word “forte.” That means “strong” in French, but Koreans have a habit of attaching random Western words to their advertising (the slogan for a popular Samsung cell phone is “Digital exciting”). Feeling a bit like Alice in Wonderland, I took the pills, and they did help. Sort of.

Reason number 876 I’m glad I’m not a celebrity is that I tend to fall apart when I travel. Not mentally, but appearance-wise, I start out dressing for comfort and minimal stripping at security, and steadily deteriorate from there, getting grubbier and stringier-haired until I arrive looking like I slept in a dumpster. I’d be a regular fixture on worst-dressed and “don’t” lists.

My point is that I arrived in Sydney disheveled, exhausted, cold and nauseated, and Down Under was starting to feel like more of a hassle than an adventure. So: shower; sleep; get maintenance guy to fix heat in room. He’s the one who told me about Russell Crowe.

I took Lonely Planet’s advice and paid a little more for a room with a harbor view, and it was 100 percent worth it. As I write this, I’m looking out over downtown Sydney, and the harbor, and even in winter it’s breathtaking. Directly across from me is Finger Wharf, and at the end of the wharf is an apartment building whose penthouse is home to Gladiator Man himself. (And lest you think the maintenance guy was pulling my leg, LP also mentions this fact, as did this morning’s Sun-Herald, which breathlessly reported that Jennifer Aniston and Vince Vaughan had tea there last week.) The penthouse is almost level with my room. I could make obscene gestures to him, but I’m not gonna. He probably couldn’t throw a cell phone (or mobile, as Aussies call them) this far, but I’m not taking any chances.

Wow, this post is really starting to ramble. Last topic, I promise.

I had an excellent dinner at the café adjoining the historic State Theater, and my stomach finally settled down. And then I watched “An Inconvenient Truth” at the Sydney Film Festival.

Holy. Cow. If you don’t get sick to your stomach seeing the disappearance of Lake Chad, or the rapid melting of Greenland, or the horrific projections of rising sea levels and subsequent flooding, then you’re … Bush, I guess.

Watch it. I’m serious. And remember it next time you vote.

It was interesting to watch a movie that inherently is about American politics surrounded by non-Americans. Hundreds of people packed the theater; I couldn’t tell how much that had to do with their interest in seeing a documentary starring an increasingly jowly former U.S. vice president, and how much had to do with it being a film festival selection, but I can’t imagine any showing at the Landmark E Street drawing that crowd. The Aussies laughed heartily when Gore took a jab at the current administration, and roared in angry disapproval when he mentioned that only two advanced nations haven’t signed the Kyoto Protocol – that would be, of course, the U.S. and Australia. Everyone heartily applauded the movie, and exited griping about John Howard.

Russell Crowe, Al Gore and bad airplane food, all in one post – where else but TFA are you gonna get that?