Published: 01.09.2016
28.08.2016
On our sixtieth day of travel and last day in Australia, we receive another prominent visit in the morning. Mr. Mark Wahlberg smiles exclusively and only for us in our bedroom - though from an oversized advertising poster. Slowly but surely, I also understand what Gudi murmured last night, something like "Good night, sweetie", but responded to my questions about what she said with "nothing, nothing". Nonetheless, we enjoy a great view and wonder when we will ever move into such an apartment - or more importantly, if it will be in this lifetime.
Since the Sydney Aquarium was heavily crowded on Saturday, we think it's wise to go there early on Sunday. Sometimes you can be missed so much. As always, the attraction is flooded by Asians, like almost everything we visit (since we were mostly in Asia). This time, we have the honor of competing for the best seats with a schoolgirl class in uniforms. Since I am skilled in elbowing, tested by the school buffet of my former school, we do not have to endure any restrictions in sight. Hysterical squealing remains a bitter aftertaste alongside wonderful and incredibly cuddly manatees and stupid-looking sharks. Nevertheless, walking in the dome under the tanks is a pleasure for us. Never before have I been able to stroke so many shark bellies from below, never again will I have to hear such high-pitched tones of hyperventilating virgins in plaid skirts.
Later, we buy various delicacies at the supermarket and eat our lunch on the steps of a church, feeling the last Australian sunrays on our skin (it's good that they are the last, our cells will thank us). I treat myself to a loaf of white bread and two avocados - oh and four large chocolate donuts. Gudi eats a salad.
Afterwards, we go back among our kind (yes, I now see myself as a very fitting part of the Australian elite). Unfortunately, cleaning, vacuuming, and washing the borrowed rooms don't quite match my newly acquired status.
We bid farewell to our host with a heavy heart and also send a message to our somewhat more distant second host. Then we take a train to the airport, where our next adventure - 30 days in New Zealand - awaits us.
Gudi's glorious laws:
Look at the fat, disabled dolphin!
My sweetheart shouts in the aisles, pointing at a manatee. On one hand, you can't take away her enthusiasm and her belief in her own knowledge of biology. But even though we aren't understood, I'm still glad. It's always funny when the daughter of a biology teacher, herself possessing outstanding knowledge, pretends to have no idea.