New Year’s Revelations and All That Other Cliché Crap

New Year’s. 2013. Another 12 months of the calendar annihilated (unlike the earth…wipe the egg of your faces, Mayans). The only answer I can come up with for the ever-persisting question ‘where did the year go?’ is “Narnia.” Before I start my diatribe about time moving too quickly, reflecting on memories of my [arguably bat-shit crazy] year past, me getting older (however, I’ve not yet made a Ke$ha remix entitled ‘Biological Tik Tok’ yet) and all that other stuff that people who start to feel old talk about, allow me to throw down a little review of my New Year’s Eve spent in Sydney. If you’re not into reading, allow me to summarize: epic. Now feel free to skip this next chunk of totally wicked detail.**

**Dad, I know you like books and stuff but do yourself a favor and skip ahead as well. Or treat it as fiction.

So, instead of ending up in Byron Bay several hours north of where I was staying for crazy reasons I won’t bore you with, I went 3 hours south to Sydney with essentially the coolest people Sweden has to offer. It was basically a game-time decision, and one that wouldn’t have been so easy to make were the 4 of us not homeless migrant backpackers with no strings tying us down anywhere. Anyhoo, 3 things made our 5 days in Sydney awesome: 1) we only had a place to stay the first 2 nights. The rest were all up in the air. Stay tuned for this one later on in the story. 2) 4 backpackers in an expensive city. Cheap. Backpacker. Food. I never realized how many flavors of tuna are made… 3) essentially no plans. All done last minute. ADVENTURE.

Johanna, Lina, Johan and I decided to spend our New Year’s Eve waiting in line for 4 hours to get into the Botanic Gardens to view the fireworks show above Sydney Harbour from Mrs. Macquarie’s point. Which, if you don’t know, is one of the best (best BEST BEEEEST) spots to watch the fireworks. After we got in, it was another 13 hours waiting for the big show. But we certainly weren’t bored. In between aerial plane shows, count-the-tramp-stamp, and the occasional premature eruption of fireworks, I introduced my fine foreign friends to the immaculate American art of the Peanut Butter & Jelly sandwich—it got even crazier when I threw a banana into the mix—and we also got to watch a large group of Dutch people get steadily drunker throughout the day. Never a dull moment.

I must say, the fireworks were FREAKING AMAZING! Probably one of the most unreal experiences of my life (aside from the last 4 months of my life, obviously). However, as epic as it was watching one of the most world-renowned New Year’s Eve celebrations from one of the most ideal spots, the real memories were made after we exited the park at 1 am. I’ll present all of the information in timeline form to speed things up, but first let me lay on the table one crucial detail of the night: we hid 2 bottles of sparkling wine and a 4 liter sack of goon (aka: boxed wine that is as painfully cheap as it is painfully gross) outside the park before we entered so that it wouldn’t get confiscated by security. I’m going to need everyone to put on their non-judging hats, now. Are you starting to visualize where my night may have taken me? I promise that whatever you concoct in your brain is not even remotely close. Here we go:

-1:00am: Commence consumption of goon outside park like complete degenerate bums.

-1:15am: realize we’re going to have an absolutely legendary night.

-1:19am: learn Lina’s Swedish flash mob to “Sexy And I Know It”

-1:19:37am: am painfully reminded at how inept at dancing I am

-1:45am: goon, goon, goon. Lots of chilling in the park.

-4:59am: start getting sleepy. Quietly talking/relaxing/near-passing out on a bench somewhere in Hyde Park

-5:00am: sprinkler system around the bench kicks on. I believe that can be described as an “impromptu and unanticipated backpacker shower.”

-5:00:16am: “WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE! Oh hey look, the sun’s coming up. Do you guys want to watch the sun come up from the Opera House?”

-5:30am: McDonald’s stop. Anyone who’s ever experienced the wrath of goon the day after knows that this is a crucial step.

-6:00am: arrive at the Opera House, lay down on steps.

-6:30am: woken up by a large authoritative-looking man with a walkie-talkie and a badge. “Um, excuse me. You can’t sleep here! I’m going to have to ask you guys to leave.” What the hell kind of wake up call is that? Shouldn’t it be something along the lines of “Good morning, this is your 6:30am wake up call that you didn’t request, we hope that you’ve had a wonderful night’s rest and enjoyed your stay with us here in Sydney.”?

-6:35am: Commence search of the aggrandized (by me) Pancakes on the Rocks. Literally the best restaurant ever.

-7:00am: Pancake success. Gorged on flapjacks and ice cream. Happy 2013 to me.

-7:34am: pancake coma commences. The Swedes and I vow to eat nothing but fruits and vegetables for a week in hopes that our bodies will forgive us for the 24 hours prior.

-8:00am: Pass out on a wharf in Sydney Harbour with the Opera House as a backdrop. Drift in and out of sleep to such comments as “heh heh”, “Now that…is a New Year’s done right.”, and a few more “hahaha”s

-9:17am: “Hey! Girls!” “Ahhh shit, security’s going to kick us out again, guys…” “You guys want some ice cream? Looks like you’ve had a rough night.” Resume eating high quality ice cream. Slowly discovering the synergy of pain that an Aussie New Year’s hangover, too much sugar, and the summer heat of Sydney can produce.

Well. That’s a rough schedule, of course. But if you didn’t catch the moral of the story, I’ll summarize by saying that 1) IT WAS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING and 2) having no real plans resulted in what I can only imagine as the best possible outcome of our NYE. Who ever said that being a semi-homeless drifter was a negative thing!?

What my ridiculous Sydney adventure taught me is possible one of the greatest lessons that I’ve learned so far in traveling: the best plans, sometimes, is to have no plan. Sure, I’ve experienced this many other times during my trip so far, but this specific few days was one of those times that that lesson rang the truest. I think that it’s so liberating to finally come to this realization because before I started traveling, I was very much a schedule person. Not having a set plan for my life whether it was days, weeks, or months in advance, was in many ways stressful for me. Also, American culture very much embeds in us a need to do something ‘productive’ with our lives from the get-go: when we graduate high school, we either have to get a job pronto or go to college. When we graduate college, we have to get a job and apply our degree that we just paid an arm and a leg for immediately—or at least until that 6 month grace period on student loans ends. WTF? When are we supposed to fully experience what the world has to offer us and figure out what we truly want to do with our lives? **Let’s not ignore the statistic that 50% of people don’t have a job that relates to their college degree. Doesn’t that tell us something?** However, after these extraordinary experiences that I’ve had with the only decisions I’ve made guiding myself into the unknown are done at the last minute, I’ve found that having no plan is in many ways exciting! Sure, this isn’t always the smartest way to go about everything and I’m going to be safe and make sure that I’m not painting myself into a corner and getting into real trouble (breath easy, Daddio). But for the decisions that steer me to different directions, I’m completely ecstatic to flip a coin and let Queen Elizabeth decide my fate in Australia.

And, OMG I’m going to get totally lame and metaphorical here for a second, but I’ve found that as much as I’m excited by my Plan of No Plan for my travels in Australia (and of course, which ever other countries I’m Planning to Not Plan to go to while I’m in this corner of the world), I’m enjoying having a Plan of No Plan for my life! Well, of course I’m planning to do stuff. No worries Dad, I’m not going to live in your basement until I’m 40. But I’m just going to go with the flow, and chose what feels right for me. Grad school? Mayhaps. Trophy wife of Ryan Gosling? I’d gladly take that offer. Professional world traveller? Why not! Astronaut? Well, I did enjoy Space Mountain at Disneyworld when I was little, so I won’t discount that one either. The point that I’m attempting to make in my attempts at wit and creative writing are that I’m 100% elated about not having a life plan anymore. Take that, work-obsessed American culture! People my age who have graduated or are about to graduate, I recommend that you should do the same. Things always work out, and if and when they don’t, that’s when the greatest life lessons and experiences(or stories to tell at parties) arise.

Thank you for reading this blog post. I hope you enjoy the next one that I’m Not Planning to Plan to write. :-D