A little over a year later, after I had neglected this blog as I was traveling all around the continent, I came back to visit Sydney over the weekend, seems like a good excuse to start writing here again, but I make no promises.
It feels strange coming back. A hint of nostalgia, as I trod down familiar streets and landmarks, places reveal themselves and bring back memories of a time not so long ago when it all seemed new.
Blue groper and yellow snappers, Long Reef, Sydney, Australia
We decided to take our chances, get up early, take the bus to the dive shop, and see what happens. My friend has just arrived in Sydney on a business trip, and was eager to go diving, but we were late to book anything. We were lucky, there was a trip going out an hour later, however, we still needed to hire gear, and somehow get to the meeting point, a half hour drive away, and we had no car.
Travelling alone, I always prefer staying in hostels. True, there’s little (or rather - no) privacy, but you always get to meet new people. While some hostels around the world are just a place to stop for the night, get some rest, and move on, the good hostels (and most places I’ve been to in Australia are like that) have a common area where guests would just sit around, relax, and chit chat for a while.
It begins with a fantasy. A dream. A desire. It’s not quite well formulated yet, not quite well understood. It’s a vague idea, an urge to do something. Let’s say, go somewhere else. So you throw some ideas around. Nothing concrete. Let’s say, go somewhere where you can speak the language. Go somewhere where it’s not very difficult to enter. Go somewhere where you think you’ll feel comfortable, where you think you might be able to live.
