So, it's 13:30 here in Sydney, a time when most of the civilised world would be tucking into turkey veges and all the trimmings. Not I for I have just been on one of the most farcical trips of all time.
Yes, Wake Up backpackers thought it would be a good idea to charge a non-refundable $25 for essentially a plate of cold meats and a bus to Bondi beach. Now I wasn't expecting much after last night's equally fucking gash (pardon my language but I'm on a tirade here) boat trip around the harbour. But, I was expecting to be able to drink the BYO booze I'd bought with my own money in the place. Alas no, as apparantly in a minor technical omission, you can't drink ANYWHERE on Bondi on Xmas day and the bacon closed us down. Not that I blame them, they were only doing their job!
So, in the absence of that we had the option of either going on a bus and paying to go to another beach where you could drink. Or go to some wholly undersold rave where oh there's no BYO and pay to enjoy your booze whilst listening to shit house and probably a reasonable amount of reggae.
As is, I'm gonna just Grinch around for the day.
If they don't let me watch Lizzy's speech I'm going medieval though.
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